Free Dream Cottage by Harriet J Kent Page B

their invitation to see inside Greenacres. Jeanne was clutching a bunch of flowers and a clanking carrier bag of glasses; Charles clung on to a small glass vase and a bottle of champagne. He raised it like he was toasting the house.
    “Oh darlings! What a lovely little place! It oozes character, doesn’t it?” Jeanne traipsed over the threshold of the kitchen and fussed her way into the dining room. Charles was close behind. He narrowly missed stepping on Jeanne’s heel of her shoe in his eagerness.
    “Charles dear! Do watch your step! For heaven’s sake!” Jeanne thrust her handbag and the carrier against his chest. “Hold on to my bag; I need to concentrate! It is so great, darling! Show me around!” she boomed.
    Charles stood to attention; like a life model, he didn’t move an inch. He placed the vase awkwardly into Jeanne’s handbag and the champagne on to the floor. He fumbled with the carrier, making the glasses clank. Fortunately for him, he was ignored by Jeanne.
    “This is the dining room, mummy. As you can see, loads of work to be done. In fact the whole cottage is in need of complete renovation.” Greta looked about her.
    “Think of what it will look like when it is finished, dear. It will be fabulous!” Jeanne continued through to the living room, closely followed by Charles.
    “Oh! Darlings! It has a drawing room! Oh well, this is it, then. Greenacres is perfect!” She tiptoed through the darkened room. “What a darling fireplace! Inglenook I believe?” Looking directly at Max, she tested her knowledge.
    “Correct!” Max returned. He followed her into the living room. “Just a little replastering and paint work in here; just cosmetics, nothing major. Change of floor covering, or maybe exposed floorboards, new curtains…”
    Jeanne continued on her tour of Greenacres. Charles, in silence, followed her like a puppy, obedient and loyal.
    “This will be the perfect place for entertaining, dear.” Jeanne perused the four corners of the room. “I can visualise the father sitting in front of a roaring fire, holding a glass of sherry, gazing into the embers! How romantic! Oh, and an antique mirror. How wonderful! But it is rather, um, dusty!”
    Greta held out her hand and ushered Jeanne towards the door, away from the mirror in case there was a repeat performance from her unwanted guest.
    “Yes, it’s exquisite, isn’t it? Now, come and have a look upstairs, mummy. Let’s leave the boys here for a moment.”
    The sound of footsteps on the bare floorboards disappeared upstairs amidst hoots of approval from Jeanne.
    “You’ve done very well, my boy. This place will be a jolly good show. Do you think you’ll be happy here?” Charles asked.
    “Yes, I do, Charles. However, I will have to stay in London for the foreseeable future. But I’ll be here at weekends. You know, have to keep the wolf from the door, so to speak. Have to be realistic. Still got the London gaff to pay for too!”
    “Of course, my boy. Understand perfectly. The way to go though, as you are still young.” Charles nodded hisapproval. “Greta will always have company; you know Jeanne will, no doubt, be a regular visitor. I know she won’t want to keep away!”
    “Yes, as long as she gives Greta a little breathing space. If you get my meaning.” Max sowed the seed to ensure Jeanne didn’t become an unwelcome pest.
    “I’ll make sure that she doesn’t visit that often.” Charles tapped his nose.
    “Better join them before Jeanne sends out the search party. Oh, and we need to open that champers!” Max led Charles out of the living room. He offered him a hand over the uneven floorboards to prevent a catastrophe. Max didn’t feel the sharp blast of cold air sweep through the room as they left. It scattered the layer of dust on the mirror through the air like a stealth cloud.
    Greta and Jeanne stood in the proposed master bedroom. It overlooked the fields and downs and faced the Smuggler’s Hide that stood on the