Free Dream Cottage by Harriet J Kent

straight away; you know she’ll want to throw a party in celebration, don’t you?”
    “Of course. Right, now the next step is we get hold of Mike the architect and arrange for his team of elected builders to start the renovations. I will let you know more info when I know it myself. Better go, there’s lots to do!” Max ended the call.
    Greta hugged her sides in excitement. Greenacres now belonged to them. She phoned Jeanne to tell her the news and was greeted with a deafening scream and a distantwhoop from her father. She then phoned the Reverend Oli to let him know. He too congratulated them on the successful sale. Greta sensed relief in his voice.
    “I am very pleased for you and Maxim. I hope you will be very happy at Greenacres. I will miss the old place but I know it will be in very good, capable hands.”
    At the Reverend’s choice of words, Greta’s mind flashed back to her encounter with the severed hand; she shuddered but remained outwardly calm.
    “Of course it will, Reverend. Anyway, when we have finished the renovations, you must come and visit us, to see what we have done,” Greta kindly suggested.
    “I would be delighted to,” he returned. “All the very best to you, Gretel! Goodbye!”

    Greta needed to speak with her mother again.
    “What time are you coming over, darling?”
    Jeanne was in the kitchen, speaking to Greta on the phone and holding a wooden spoon over a large, beige mixing bowl that oozed with a creamy cake mixture and a strong aroma of vanilla essence.
    “Friday evening. We have now got the keys. Reverend Oli sent them through by courier,” Greta replied. “We are meeting the architect on site first thing Saturday morning to run through the final plans with him and then the builders will start on Monday. Is it all right for us to stay with you and the father for the week, mummy? Well, me at least. Max will have to go back to London on Tuesday for work.”
    “Of course it will be! Goodness me, I am your mother. The father is very keen to visit Greenacres; to see it for himself.”
    “I know. All in good time, mummy,” Greta smiled as she visualised her bumbling father tripping over spent masonry and building equipment and her mother sighing in exasperation as she would be trying to keep him upright and under control.
    “Don’t leave it too long, dear, or the father will be unbearable.” Jeanne dropped the spoon into the cake mixture handle first. “Oh blast!” she exclaimed and tried to fish it out of the gooey mix.
    “No, we won’t mummy. See you about 8pm on Friday! Bye!” Greta sighed in relief as she successfully managed to wean herself off the phone to her mother. Ten minutes was impressive, for a change. Their conversations normally dwindled around the hour mark and her hand and wrist would be aching.
    Greta sat on the bed where she had been packing clothes for their forthcoming visit to the Island. She couldn’t help wondering if Greenacres was haunted or whether it had been purely her vivid imagination. She was worried and doubts began to fill her mind. She needed reassurance that everything would be all right. She decided to phone Sophie.
    “How are you?” Sophie’s familiar voice was a comfort to Greta.
    “I don’t know; happy, scared, apprehensive…” Greta broke off and sniffed.
    “What’s wrong, hun? You should be ecstatic; you have just bought your dream cottage! You’ll soon be living the dream!”
    “Oh Soph; I don’t know… it’s just me…” Greta blurted out.
    “It’ll be fine; there’s nothing to worry about… is there?” Sophie was slightly concerned over Greta’s reaction.
    “I haven’t told anyone this,” Greta began. “But whenwe were at Greenacres the other week, with the architect, I was in the drawing room… yes, of all places; when I saw this wall mounted dusty mirror and when I wiped the dust off the glass it… there was… this sounds so stupid now, there was a severed hand in the reflection of it. I freaked