Free Three Minutes to Happiness by Sally Clements Page A

thing about china horses.”
    Finn winced.
    “I’ve grown out of that,” Val assured him. “Nowadays I collect antique patchwork quilts and restore old family photographs.”
    He glanced over. “From your own family?”
    “Yes. My father had a suitcase full of old photographs of his relatives. After he died I rescued them from boxes my mother had put out to go to the charity shop.” There was a trace of sadness in her tone.
    “How old were you when he died?”
    “I was two. His things stayed in the attic until my mother married again when I was six. Then I guess she thought it was time to let go of the past. I rescued the photographs and hid them under my bed. Many are scratched and faded, so whenever I have free time I work on restoring them. The most interesting ones find a home on my wall. I guess I like being surrounded by the past.”
    “My parents are still together. Rather sickeningly so, in fact. They’re inseparable.”
    From the corner of his eye, Finn saw Val interlace her fingers on her lap. “I think my parents would have been too, if Dad hadn’t died. My mother certainly believes he was the love of her life.”
    “But she found love again with your stepfather.”
    “Marrying again turned out to be a mistake. Both times. But it hasn’t deterred her from searching for love. At the moment she’s in the throes of passion with a toy-boy who I don’t think has started shaving yet.” She tucked a lock of black hair behind her ear. “I keep trying to persuade her that there’s nothing wrong with lust for lust’s sake. It doesn’t have to be love, marriage, and forever.”
    My thoughts exactly. “But it does have to be exclusive?”
    “Yes.” Val twisted her hands in her lap. “I don’t want to share.”
    “I don’t want to share you with anyone either.” Finn laid his hand on her leg, feeling his body respond to the heat of her under his palm. “You’ve never felt the urge to marry then?” They were approaching Merlin’s Grove now. Finn indicated and turned up the long bleached lime avenue leading to the house.
    “Oh, I’ve felt the urge. I’ve even acted on it.”
    *****
    Merlin’s Grove was a fantasy made real in cut stone. It looked as though it had been part of the landscape forever. As they drove around the gravel-covered circular sweep, the front door opened and an elderly man dressed in worn corduroys and a jumper that had definitely seen better days strode out towards them. In his wake trailed a stiff-legged golden Labrador.
    Finn turned to her saying, “John Fitzgerald.” He left the car and walked over to their host.
    Val followed.
    “Morning John.” Finn bent to rub the old dog behind the ears. “Thanks for letting us plague you.” He turned. “This is Val, she’s the first of the photographers coming to take pictures.”
    John clasped Val’s hand. “Delighted.” His thick grey hair was bushy and overlong, and he wore a plaited leather necklace around his neck. He looked like an elderly hobbit, minus the super-sized feet. “Come on in. Elizabeth’s inside.”
    “The place is looking good.” Finn glanced around. “I can’t believe how much the plants have grown since I was last here.”
    “Well, it’s been four years.” It was incredible to think that this place was only that old; it looked as though it had always been here. “Elizabeth is the gardener,” he explained to Val. “We love nature, and Finn suggested we surround the house with plantings from the get-go. It was a policy that definitely worked.” The front of the house was covered in the dark red leaves of a creeper which reached to the roof. A large herbaceous cottage garden surrounded the house on all sides—the plants untrimmed from last summer’s luxuriant growth, mere skeletons of what must have been a vibrant display. The last roses of the year still held a faded vestige of color as they rambled against the side of the house.
    Inside, Val was introduced to Elizabeth and offered a