Brontë Lovers: A gothic-inspired contemporary rom-com by Angela Pearse

Author:Angela Pearse [Pearse, Angela]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2024-03-17T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 17

The difference between Miss Brontë and me is that

she puts all her naughtiness into her books.

(Elizabeth Gaskell, The Life of Charlotte Brontë)

Hours turn into days. Days turn into weeks, and before I know it, I’ve been living at Dain’s for six of them. Going from a hotel to a house with amenities from the dark ages takes some getting used to. But surprisingly, Dain was right. Once I got my head around it and gave myself permission to embrace the full-immersion experience, I started enjoying it a little. When else am I going to get the chance to live in the same conditions that the Brontës would have (albeit with a laptop and mobile phone)?

But I can’t lie. I miss the convenience of stepping into a hot shower. Washing now involves stripping first thing after I get up, a quick going-over with a wet washcloth and soap, another rinse with the washcloth, and rubbing myself down briskly with a towel, trying not to freeze to death. I haven’t been brave enough to get naked, soap up, and rinse with a jug of warm water in the bath as Dain does because I discovered the door doesn’t have a lock; and although I mostly trust him to knock before he waltzes in, I’m not prepared to risk it.

Some days, my washing routine is more thorough than others. Let’s just say I’ve come to appreciate my ‘natural oils’. However, my hair is getting ratty, so I probably need to do the full bath ritual soon. Neither Dain nor I have had one yet due to the hassle of heating the water and filling the tub. But I’m determined to try it, even if my arms fall off from lugging buckets of water upstairs. Meanwhile, I’m putting my hair into a messy bun and using dry shampoo. As for clothes, I’m using the launderette in town as I can’t face handwashing. Sometimes Dain asks me if he can add a few shirts too, which makes me smile. I don’t think it’s high on his list of favourite chores.

He much prefers cooking and has shown me how to make the bread. We take turns. I’m much slower than he is, and my bread-making skills leave much to be desired. My first attempt almost caused him to crack a tooth. He said it was ‘delightfully crunchy, but perhaps best dipped in soup’.

Cooking has never been one of my strengths, and Klint hated it too, so we ate out a lot or existed on Pot Noodles if funds were low. I’m jealous of Dain’s ability to whip up all sorts of things on the temperamental Aga. The other day, he made a soufflé since he’s rather into French cooking. It was so delicious and, most importantly, edible that I’m seriously tempted to let him do it all. But I don’t want him to think I’m a shirker, so I’ll persevere.

For his part, Dain is being careful not to ask too many probing questions about Klint or how I’m feeling.

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