Free Marriage and Other Games by Veronica Henry Page B

she was going to say it anyway. ‘I’ve got a proposition. You know the Millstone?’
     
    Charlotte nodded. Eighteen months before, Gussie’s Great-aunt Flo had left Gussie and her two brothers a decrepit cottage in Withybrook, a remote village on Exmoor. It had stood empty for all that time, as they didn’t have a clue what to do with it. It was too small for any of their families to holiday in, too shabby to let out, and none of them wanted to sell for sentimental reasons. So it was fondly referred to as the Millstone, as they still had to insure it and pay council tax.
     
    ‘We’ve decided to bite the bullet and sell,’ Gussie informed her with a sigh. ‘We’ll all come out of it with a good whack towards the school fees for the next ten years. There’s no point in hanging on to it.’
     
    ‘It makes sense,’ agreed Charlotte. ‘It’s just sitting there empty.’
     
    She knew very well that Gussie and her husband could do with the money. They never had any spare cash. Charlotte couldn’t remember the last time Gussie had bought a new outfit. Not that she was a vain creature; she was quite happy to live in jeans and rugby shirts. But sometimes she saw the strain of it all on Gussie’s face. She wanted to go back to work, but the children were her priority. If selling the cottage meant that Gussie could have a bit of fun, then Charlotte was all for it.
     
    But she wasn’t sure where she came in as part of the plan.
     
    ‘The thing is,’ Gussie went on, ‘the place is a total wreck at the moment. We know it’s structurally sound - Flo had a new roof put on about eight years ago, and it’s been rewired. But we think we’d get a much better price if we did it up. Gave it some kerb appeal. Slapped a bit of white paint around.’
     
    ‘Ah . . .’ Charlotte could see where she was heading.
     
    ‘Why don’t you do it for us?’ Gussie pulled out a sheaf of photos and spread them out on the kitchen table. ‘You’d have a roof over your head. And a project. And a chance to think things over. You need some space, Charlotte.’
     
    Charlotte chewed her lip and looked at the pictures. The cottage was sweet - made of stone, double-fronted, a typical Play School house with four windows and a door. But judging by the interior shots it hadn’t been touched since the fifties at least. It was stuck in a time warp, and not in a good way.
     
    ‘So - what’s my budget?’
     
    There was a small pause.
     
    ‘Well, we’ve scraped around between us and we reckon we can raise five grand each . . .’ Gussie gave a small gulp.
     
    Charlotte stared at her in disbelief. Gussie had two brothers. She did the maths. A complete refurb for fifteen thousand? That was less than she usually spent on lighting. As she looked at the photos of the gloomy interior, with the nasty bricked-up fireplaces and Formica worktops and hideous wallpaper, her heart sank.
     
    ‘Fifteen thousand? To do it up completely? New kitchen, new bathroom, new flooring . . . ?’
     
    ‘I know, I know. But we’ll give you a cut of the profit when we sell. We’ll split it four ways. I know it won’t be a fortune, but . . .’ Gussie looked anguished, knowing what she was offering was pitiful in comparison to Charlotte’s usual fee. ‘It’s the only way I can help you, Chaz.’
     
    Charlotte looked at her friend and realised that Gussie couldn’t even afford this lifeline. The money she was investing in the project wouldn’t have been readily available; she and Will would have probably had to borrow it, no doubt from one of the other brothers who would get the interest on it ultimately. She couldn’t throw this offer back in her face. And actually, what choice did she have?
     
    But how on earth was she going to survive, stuck in the wilds of Exmoor? It was remote even for Gussie, who was a country girl at heart. But Charlotte wasn’t a country mouse at all. The closest she came to the countryside was the evening race meeting at