Noah sat down in his armchair and Moses moved over to the window. For a long while they didn't say anything to each other; both simply contemplating their own thoughts. Surprisingly, it was Moses who broke the silence. "Mrs Bishop tells me that you're a speech therapist, Noah." He announced, still looking out of the window. His hands were tucked neatly behind his back.
"Yes, I am, which is why I need a space cleared for my work in the flat. I appreciate that we don't have an extra room, but it won't take too much effort to tidy up the sitting room, will it?" Noah asked, looking around the room and trying to mentally envisage transforming it into a suitable work space.
"I'm sure I've already agreed not to move things." Moses retaliated.
"Ok, then let me move them. Is there any space in your bedroom for all this stuff?"
"There might be some space, but I'll leave that to you to decide." Noah nodded for a moment, and the stopped. He realised with some apprehension that he had just been invited into another man's bedroom. He wasn't entirely sure how he felt about that.
Moses turned around and looked at him properly. "Well? I trust you know where my room is already? You haven't been here long but, as you have already pointed out, we don't exactly have an abundance of rooms." Noah felt a little bit pressured here, but he was determined not to let it worry him.
"Yes, alright then. I'll go and have a look at it now." He got up slowly and wandered out of the sitting room. There were four doors here, two on each side. On the left side, there was one for Noah's bedroom and one for the exit to the flat, and on the right hand side there was one for the airing cupboard and one for Moses' bedroom. He opened this last door, not really sure about what he would see. Nothing, however, could have prepared him for what lay in store.
The room was an abundance of extravagance. As he stepped inside, it was like stepping into another world, another time, another country. A Persian rug was stretched out along the floor, which more than compensated for the fact that there was no carpet, just bare floorboards. The walls were covered in different canvas paintings, and old bits of scroll that had been placed in glass frames. Ancient scriptures were scrawled across them in archaic texts, which made them seem very secret. There was another bookshelf, with room for a few more books, and an old rosewood writing desk and matching chair. The striped upholstery of the chair matched the striped, Victorian-style wallpaper of the room. There was an old, ornate mirror hanging above the bed, whose rich, gilt edging gave off an impression of grandeur. The bed itself was quite a sight to behold. It was made of ebony, and it had a long, airy canopy attached to it which reached to the ground. The bed looked more like it should belong to an Egyptian Pharaoh than some random antiques dealer. It was quite impressive. Confusingly, there was also a little baby basket situated next to the bed, held up by a simple wooden framework. It took Noah a few moments of staring at it before it clicked. It's a Moses basket.
He started to chuckle slightly, and he turned around, only to bump into Moses himself.
"What do you think?" Moses asked, a seemingly anxious look upon his face.
"I think you have a very lovely room. Where did you get all of this old furniture from?" Noah asked, still marvelling at the splendour of it all. Moses blinked at him.
"I'm an antiques dealer."
"So, you just keep some of the best things for yourself?" He asked.
"Sometimes."
"Right, well - congratulations. Really magnificent interior design on your part."
"Do you think you will be able to fit some of the things in here?" Moses enquired, desperate to know.
"Is that oak wardrobe full?" Noah asked.
"Yes."
"And that ottoman?"
"There's some space in there, I think."
"Have you utilised any of the storage space under your bed?"
"No."
"Then I'm sure we'll fit everything in." Noah smiled widely. "We'll just need to get some plastic boxes or some cardboard boxes and put your 'things' in there."
"No."
"What?"
"There shall be no plastic or cardboard in this room." Moses protested.
"But you need the space-" Noah began.
"It's ok - I have some old trunks piled up in the dining room."
"Of course you do."
"Yes, I am, which is why I need a space cleared for my work in the flat. I appreciate that we don't have an extra room, but it won't take too much effort to tidy up the sitting room, will it?" Noah asked, looking around the room and trying to mentally envisage transforming it into a suitable work space.
"I'm sure I've already agreed not to move things." Moses retaliated.
"Ok, then let me move them. Is there any space in your bedroom for all this stuff?"
"There might be some space, but I'll leave that to you to decide." Noah nodded for a moment, and the stopped. He realised with some apprehension that he had just been invited into another man's bedroom. He wasn't entirely sure how he felt about that.
Moses turned around and looked at him properly. "Well? I trust you know where my room is already? You haven't been here long but, as you have already pointed out, we don't exactly have an abundance of rooms." Noah felt a little bit pressured here, but he was determined not to let it worry him.
"Yes, alright then. I'll go and have a look at it now." He got up slowly and wandered out of the sitting room. There were four doors here, two on each side. On the left side, there was one for Noah's bedroom and one for the exit to the flat, and on the right hand side there was one for the airing cupboard and one for Moses' bedroom. He opened this last door, not really sure about what he would see. Nothing, however, could have prepared him for what lay in store.
The room was an abundance of extravagance. As he stepped inside, it was like stepping into another world, another time, another country. A Persian rug was stretched out along the floor, which more than compensated for the fact that there was no carpet, just bare floorboards. The walls were covered in different canvas paintings, and old bits of scroll that had been placed in glass frames. Ancient scriptures were scrawled across them in archaic texts, which made them seem very secret. There was another bookshelf, with room for a few more books, and an old rosewood writing desk and matching chair. The striped upholstery of the chair matched the striped, Victorian-style wallpaper of the room. There was an old, ornate mirror hanging above the bed, whose rich, gilt edging gave off an impression of grandeur. The bed itself was quite a sight to behold. It was made of ebony, and it had a long, airy canopy attached to it which reached to the ground. The bed looked more like it should belong to an Egyptian Pharaoh than some random antiques dealer. It was quite impressive. Confusingly, there was also a little baby basket situated next to the bed, held up by a simple wooden framework. It took Noah a few moments of staring at it before it clicked. It's a Moses basket.
He started to chuckle slightly, and he turned around, only to bump into Moses himself.
"What do you think?" Moses asked, a seemingly anxious look upon his face.
"I think you have a very lovely room. Where did you get all of this old furniture from?" Noah asked, still marvelling at the splendour of it all. Moses blinked at him.
"I'm an antiques dealer."
"So, you just keep some of the best things for yourself?" He asked.
"Sometimes."
"Right, well - congratulations. Really magnificent interior design on your part."
"Do you think you will be able to fit some of the things in here?" Moses enquired, desperate to know.
"Is that oak wardrobe full?" Noah asked.
"Yes."
"And that ottoman?"
"There's some space in there, I think."
"Have you utilised any of the storage space under your bed?"
"No."
"Then I'm sure we'll fit everything in." Noah smiled widely. "We'll just need to get some plastic boxes or some cardboard boxes and put your 'things' in there."
"No."
"What?"
"There shall be no plastic or cardboard in this room." Moses protested.
"But you need the space-" Noah began.
"It's ok - I have some old trunks piled up in the dining room."
"Of course you do."