sound lovely.’
‘Eek, I can’t wait,’ said Carly, her excitement obvious. ‘They are the perfect place for a proposal. He is such a sweetheart. We both love the outdoors and we like a touch of luxury, so this combines the two perfectly.’
Beth loved her friend and the last thing she wanted to do was burst her bubble of happy expectation but she did feel that, although it all sounded very plausible, she was setting herself up for another possible disappointment.
‘That does all sound fabulous. Are they expensive, these tree-house breaks?’
‘Yeah, hundreds, but when you are looking at something so unique then that’s what you have to pay.’
Beth hesitated before she spoke. ‘And do you think this is the sort of thing that Fergus could afford on his income?’
There was silence and Beth felt awful for having brought Carly crashing back to reality. Eventually Carly spoke but a lot of her previous gusto had dissipated. ‘Perhaps he’s been saving up.’
‘Yeah,’ said Beth, trying to sound enthusiastic, ‘you’re right, he could have been building up to this for ages. I’m sure it will be totally brilliant.’ There was a silence that went on a fraction too long.
‘Nick has been in touch again.’
Beth could tell by Carly’s voice that there was more she wanted to impart. ‘And?’
‘He looks really sorry about everything that happened and he says he wants to put things straight between you. He’s really worried about you, Beth. He’s looking for a second chance.’
‘No way! Why would I risk me or Leo being in the firing line the next time he loses his temper?’
‘Oh, I know,’ said Carly, ‘I was just passing on the message.’ There was an uncomfortable pause in the conversation. ‘He nearly cried,’ added Carly.
‘He could be bawling his eyes out for all I care. I’ll never go back. Carly, please don’t get suckered in by him. He’s a tricky bastard.’
‘No, of course not. You are completely right. He’s a bastard. A very charming and handsome one, but a bastard all the same.’
Beth hadn’t shared everything with Carly, so the fact that Beth and Nick’s relationship ended so abruptly had been a shock to her. She’d talk to Carly about it when she had eventually sorted it all out in her own mind but for now Beth was still trying to make sense of it all herself.
When the call was over Beth started to think about the treehouse. It sounded like a lovely place, but then so had Willow Cottage but now it was a disaster she was stuck with. Perhaps she could knock down bloody Willow Cottage and build a treehouse in the willow. She was pretty sure it would cost less and it would definitely be easier than sorting out the mess she currently had to deal with.
Beth was drowning her sorrows in a particularly large glass of Chardonnay as she sat in the B&B kitchen mulling over the full structural survey report. It didn’t make for an entertaining read. She felt sorry for herself. She knew it was a bit pathetic but she couldn’t help it. It was like she’d been dropped into someone else’s life and it was alien. Everything here was almost the opposite of what she was used to: before she had a clean, sleek and modern home and now she had a tumbledown filthy wreck. She used to have a good job, now she was playing at being a property renovator – and doing it very badly, she thought, as she ran a thumb over her reddened palms that were sore from the splinters. And love it or hate it she was used to the noise, bustle and vibrancy of London and now she was in a village that was so sleepy and inactive if it were a person it would be lying on a slab with a tag on its toe. She was the proverbial fish out of water or in her case she was the middle-class mum out of Waitrose.
She was also trying very hard not to think about Nick. It was bugging her that he’d been in touch with Carly but it niggled her more that Carly had obviously listened to him. Nick was charming and that was a wonderfully effective mask to hide behind.
This was all Nick’s fault. If he had only been all the things he had promised to be, and not the hateful manipulator with a swift backhand, then right now she and her little boy could be sitting in the apartment she loved, and had worked so hard for, with the man of her dreams. Because, before Nick had shown his true colours, that was exactly what he had been. At first when Nick had done things for her she was flattered, pleased that someone was thinking of her and it had made her feel special. The few thoughtful gestures had become more and more frequent until virtually everything outside of her work was sorted out for her by him, making her feel cosseted. It was a while before she noticed that her independence was evaporating, almost unnoticed, like a puddle in the sun. Perhaps on some level she was missing Nick too. She started to feel anxious as the memories forced their way into her conscious mind and she washed them away with a large slug of wine. There was no point going over the past. Beth realized she was grinding her teeth and stopped herself; it was a nervous thing she seemed to have developed, thanks to Nick, and she needed to break the habit.
She looked around the B&B kitchen – it was painfully twee. Frilly floral curtains hung at the small window and were tied back with ribbons, the units were all pine which overpowered the small room, on top of the wall cabinets was a collection of pottery jugs in various gaudy colours, most of which clashed spectacularly with the migraine-inducing magenta walls. Beth knew she was being uncharitable but she was used to clean lines, minimalism and good design, none of which was evident here.
She looked round the kitchen again. It was all superficial. The kitchen wasn’t a bad size; but was overcrowded by cupboards and overwhelmed by colour and chintz. She could easily change it given the chance, it was only one room. That was it. She could easily change one room. Willow Cottage was the same; she needed to look at it as a series of single rooms, one thing at a time, rather than one massive insurmountable disaster. The cottage might have a lot that needed changing but, with the exception of the roof, there didn’t appear to be anything structurally wrong. Yes, it needed repointing – thanks to Jack she now knew what that meant – it needed rewiring and a damp course but that was all doable. She took another swig of wine. That was the last time she was going to feel sorry for herself; from now on, she was going to change things bit by bit and she was going to start with moving out of the B&B.
Jean failed to hide her obvious disappointment at losing her guests and she seemed rather concerned about Beth’s plans.
‘Honest, Jean, we’ll be fine. We’ve loved it here but it makes sense to move out now.’ Beth needed to have a much tighter hold on her money than she had done up until now. The B&B had been ideal but in a prime Cotswolds location it wasn’t cheap. Beth had no regular income so for the first time in a long while she had to get used to living on a budget.
Leo shook his head as he followed his mother to the car and they drove away. Beth swung the car past the pub car park, pulled up outside the cottage, jumped out and flung open the boot. An earlier trip into town had allowed her to stock up on a cleaning product for every known surface type, as well as two long-handled brushes of differing brush coarseness, and a mop and bucket with spare heads. She also had industrial quantities of bleach, most of which was destined for the toilet and bathroom.
‘Right, we are only cleaning one room. That’s all. We’ve got all day. Ready?’ Beth was bubbling with enthusiasm. Leo was not.
‘But it’s just the two of us and it’ll be soooooooooo boring!’ Leo’s shoulders slumped dramatically forward.
Beth’s plan was that since the living room appeared
