Victoria had thought ahead and asked for a new driver from the agency. The last thing she needed was someone who would recognise Holly and cause a whirlwind of gossip in the office.
The second they exited the airport, Holly’s nose was practically glued to the window, staring at the famous skyline before them. Victoria used the opportunity to get some work done.
She found herself distracted by Holly’s occasional gasp at the scenery. After a while, she found her attention drifting towards the window that Holly was looking out of. She calculated the route they were taking and waited with a smile for Holly to be wowed by the view of Manhattan from the Robert Kennedy Bridge.
A small fear had lurked within Victoria, one which dreaded that Holly might dislike the grittiness of New York and prefer the beauty of Paris. That fear shrivelled up and vanished at the reflection of Holly’s excited face.
The journey from the airport to the brownstone on West 96th had never seemed shorter. The driver opened the front door and started to take the bags up the exterior flight of stairs and into the hallway.
Victoria climbed the stairs but suddenly felt a chill surround her. She’d expected Holly to be beside her, but the girl had vanished.
She whirled around only to let out a breath of relief when she saw Holly petting the neighbour’s Persian cat. She exhaled the panic and inhaled a calming breath.
“Holly?” she called softly.
She wanted to get Holly into the safety of the house, as if the sanctuary of her own home would magically cleanse the fear and stress she had been suffering from.
Holly looked up at her and smiled.
“He’s so cute,” she said, gesturing her head to the cat.
“He is,” Victoria agreed.
She hated the overly friendly, pretentious ball of fluff. The cat was one of the main reasons she’d bought a dog. A big dog.
Holly stood and walked up the stairs and into the house.
“Wow,” she whispered in awe as she entered.
The driver had finished with the bags, and Victoria nodded her appreciation to him. He jogged back down the stairs and Victoria stepped into the house, closing the front door behind them and letting out a sigh. It was over. They were home. She’d done it.
She watched as Holly strolled around the entrance hall. She pressed her lips together in a worried, thin line. She’d been concerned about this moment as she wondered if Holly would suddenly remember the house and her time inside it.
Holly had often been asked to deliver things to the house. Victoria imagined that the entrance hall had been a highly stressful location to the once shy girl.
Holly didn’t seem to be experiencing a terrifying flashback. Instead she was staring at the high, ornately decorated ceilings and then shifting her gaze down to study the marble floor. She approached the long staircase to the right-hand side of the building, looking up and then down.
“Wow,” she repeated. “You have a beautiful home.”
“Quite the statement seeing as you’ve only seen the hallway,” Victoria muttered. She felt a satisfied smile tug at her lips. She removed her coat and hung it in the closet.
“I’d happily live in the hallway,” Holly replied.
“Well, luckily for you, you won’t have to. A guestroom has been made up for you downstairs.”
Holly looked over the bannister rail again. She turned her whole body around to look up. “How many floors are there?”
“Five. The guest area is downstairs, there’s a bedroom, an en suite, and kitchen facilities. But I’d love for you to dine with the family, if you are agreeable?”
Holly removed herself from the bannister and nodded. “I’d prefer to. Where are your children?”
“With my mother, they’ll be back next week.”
“Have you… told them? About me, I mean?”
Victoria shook her head. “No, not yet. I’ll speak with them before they return, though.”
“Will they be okay with it?” Holly asked.
“I don’t see why not. We’ve had guests come to stay before.”
“But presumably not former second assistants who have brain damage?”
She didn’t really have a reply to that, and she didn’t really need one. She was Victoria Hastings, she did what she liked. If she were to be unpredictable, no one would call her out on it.
“Please do go down to your room. Unpack, freshen up, etcetera. I’m going to get changed and then I’ll prepare us a small dinner if you like?”
“Thank you, that’s very kind.” Holly walked over to the stack of luggage and picked up her holdall.
“Not at all.” She picked up the smallest of her four suitcases. “Shall we say thirty minutes?”