The Little Cottage in the Country

by Lottie Phillips

  Oh bum, again.

  ‘Hello?’

  ‘It’s Barry.’ His voice filled the phone. ‘How was the move?’

  ‘Fine, thanks.’

  ‘Is Diane there?’

  ‘Yes.’ Anna rolled her eyes. ‘She’s here.’

  He giggled excitedly. ‘Great, great.’ He breathed heavily. ‘Now, thing is, Compton, I need your column to start in this weekend’s paper.’

  ‘Barry, I’ve only just arrived.’

  ‘Yes,’ he said, ignoring her. ‘And what have you got so far?’

  ‘Barry…’ She was sterner now. ‘I’ve only just arrived at a house that needs a serious dose of TLC, I’m trying to settle the twins and, other than meeting a couple of locals and receiving a letter from my aunt, nothing’s happened.’

  ‘Well, thing is, I really need this.’ He suddenly sounded desperate. ‘The Post is going under unless I can come up with something that makes us stand out.’ He paused. ‘Now, I’m not saying your move to the country is going to chime with all our readers, but if you were prepared to give it a bit of welly…’ He stopped, barking out a laugh. ‘Welly? Get it?’

  ‘Yes,’ Anna said, through gritted teeth.

  ‘Well, basically, I’m sure Diane has told you she’s lost her job with the magazines and that she’s having to give up her rented flat in London?’

  Anna took a sharp intake of breath. ‘Yes, of course she has,’ she lied, glancing up the stairs.

  ‘Right, well, we all need each other right now.’ He stopped, drew breath. ‘I’m out of a job if I don’t make this newspaper sing and you two clearly need the money. Can we do this?’

  Anna heard Diane stirring on the stairs. ‘Barry, let me call you back in the morning, OK?’

  A couple of minutes later, Diane trooped down the stairs. ‘I love your children. They’re like the perfect audience.’

  Anna handed her a glass of wine and headed over to the sofa. ‘Look what I found on the mat.’

  They sat, side by side, on the sofa, legs tucked underneath them.

  ‘What is it?’ Diane flipped the small orange pamphlet over and over in her hand. ‘It’s just some local business advertiser.’

  ‘Yes, but look on the first page.’

  Diane opened it and read: SPEED DATING AT THE ROSE AND CROWN. She broke into a grin. ‘Are you kidding me?’

  Anna shrugged. ‘You wanted to have fun. There you go.’

  ‘I’m sensing the singular here. What about, we want to have fun, and why don’t we go?’

  Anna smiled. ‘Maybe I’m getting old or maybe because I’m a mum.’

  Diane rolled her eyes. ‘Jesus, someone play me the violins already. You’re thirty-two with fantastic children and now you own your own house, albeit a bit of a dump.’

  ‘Thanks.’

  ‘But you’ve got everything going for you.’

  ‘Except a man.’

  Diane nodded. ‘Exactly, my friend. Except a man.’ She got up and fetched the box of wine off the side. ‘See, told you, you can refill your glasses and no one is any the wiser.’ She squirted the wine into the glasses, spraying Anna liberally in the process. ‘OK, so that’s it, we’re both going.’ She read quickly. ‘It says “to book, ring this number”. Are you going to do it or am I?’

  ‘You go by yourself.’

  Diane flicked her hair. ‘Where’s the fun in that?’

  ‘Well, it’s not like we’re going to be speed dating each other,’ Anna pointed out. ‘If you want a drink with me in a pub, then we just go to the pub.’

  Diane stood and put her glass on the coffee table. ‘Whatever.’ She grabbed the pamphlet, fled from the room, up the stairs, to Anna’s room. Anna could hear Diane’s voice, muffled, and then laughter. Minutes later, she padded back down.

  ‘All done. He just said get there a bit early to register and I told him we would because we’d need to sink a couple for Dutch courage.’

  ‘Classy.’

  ‘You’ll love me for it when you find the love of your life.’

  ‘I’m past it. Look at me. I can’t even remember what goes where.’

  Diane wiggled her eyebrows. ‘Darling, it’s not rocket science. I’d imagine even you would figure it out.’

  Anna grew serious. ‘I’m just not ready. I don’t trust them.’

  ‘Men?’

  ‘Hmmm.’ She sipped at her wine. ‘I mean, Simon ruined my appetite for any of them.’

  ‘Simon? Simon?’ Diane slapped her thigh. ‘Now, you can’t judge all men by Simon. He’s a commitment-phobe twerp. End of. But he did one thing for you…’

  ‘Gave me two gorgeous children.’

  ‘Exactly.’ Diane punched her playfully. ‘So, it’s time to unhook the chastity belt…

  ‘Again.’

  ‘Yes, again, and we can all be happy.’

  ‘All of us?’ Anna arched a brow. ‘When were you going to tell me you’d lost your stints at the magazines and were having to give up your flat?’

  Diane’s head dropped. ‘I was going to tell you. Well, obviously, I had to tell you, but I knew you were going through your own hard time.’ She choked back a sob and looked at Anna, her eyes glistening. ‘Yeah, they let me go from both titles a couple of weeks ago and then I tried to get in contact with Tracey about working on the film set, and she’s been ignoring my calls.’

  ‘Then Barry phones you?’

  Diane nodded quickly. ‘Yeah, he did.’

  Anna sat up straight. ‘Why weren’t you honest with me? Why didn’t you tell me all this?’

  ‘Because you were so happy about moving to the country and… and… I felt stupid.’

  ‘Why did you pay for the food earlier then? I mean you can hardly afford it.’

  She dipped her head. ‘It’s the least I can do.’ Sniffing, she added, ‘Sorry.’

  ‘And how much money do you have now?’

  ‘One hundred-odd.’

  Anna sighed, held out her hand and took Diane’s, squeezing it. ‘Well, looks like we’re broke and in this together.’ She moved her head slowly from side to side. ‘I don’t think Barry’s idea is going to work. I mean who wants to read about someone moving to the sticks?’

  ‘He thinks you’re the next Bridget Jones.’

  Anna snorted. ‘Well, he’s got some bits right… The big knickers for a start.’ Anna tried to make Diane smile but it wasn’t working. ‘Listen, I’ll text Barry now. Tell him we’re going speed dating and that I’ll get his first column over to him for the weekend run.’

  Marigolds and Marmoset(ters)

  The twins hadn’t stirred and Anna could still hear Diane snoring next door. She looked out of the master-bedroom window at the distant hills and startling pink and purple sky as the sun made its way up. She was revelling in how calm the world appeared in contrast to the twenty-four-hour bustle of London when she heard an almighty scream from above.

  Anna ran up the stairs, two at a time, to find that Freddie and Antonia were, in fact, awake and now pinned up against their bedroom wall, their eyes round as saucers, fixed on the something in the centre of the room. Anna’s eyes darted across the floor and she, too, froze.

  A mouse stood stock-still on the rug. These were the moments she desperately wished she wasn’t a single mother. Wasn’t this a job for men? Diane’s reprimanding voice filled her thoughts. ‘There’s no such thing as jobs for men and jobs for women. We can all do everything, only women can do more.’

  Diane snored on and Anna refused to call out in distress. But, Anna thought, this woman couldn’t catch a mouse and was likely to have a heart attack if she tried.

  This was where Anna knew she was meant to turn into a superhero mum who would say, ‘Guys, it’s only a mouse. He’s cute and furry and not going to hurt you.’ Only she didn’t. Instead, having eyed a light sabre leaning against the wall, she said, ‘OK, you two sneak very carefully along the wall and onto the landing. We don’t want him to run at us.’

  Could a mouse run at the
m? She acknowledged that, perhaps, the little rodent was no bull, but it was everything she hated in rodents and insects: erratic. A bull, she figured, would be easier to deal with, surely. A bull made it pretty obvious when it was ready to come for you: steam out of its nose, pawing at the ground with its front hoof. A mouse didn’t offer these clues.

  They nodded and Anna watched her children creep with their backs along the wall towards the door, until Freddie, out of nowhere, leapt at the mouse, sending their new furry friend scuttling in Anna’s direction. Her suspicions confirmed, she fled, almost as quickly as Usain Bolt, out the door.

  ‘Freddie!’ she called from the landing. ‘Are you two OK?’

  Diane emerged from her bedroom, panda-eyes and still a trace of yesterday’s fangs. ‘What the hell is going on? Thought it was meant to be quiet in the country.’

  Anna could hear Antonia crying in the bedroom and knew she had to attend to her children. She snuck back in and whispered, ‘Where is it?’

  Freddie, with a glint in his eyes, announced it had gone and pointed at a crack in the skirting board. ‘It’s gone, Mummy.’ He smiled. ‘You’re a scaredy-cat.’

  There was no denying it. ‘All right, Ninja, breakfast time,’ she said and led her brave little soldier into the bathroom to find Antonia.

  ‘I hate mouses,’ Antonia said, sitting on the loo seat.

  Anna picked them up, one twin under each arm and made their way down stairs. Once they were settled in their chairs, she grabbed the juice and milk from the fridge, plucking some sugar-rush-inducing cereal off the side.

  ‘Sugar Puffs,’ she read aloud. ‘Why do I think this can only end badly?’ She put the box on the table.

  Diane had removed the black rings from around her eyes and joined them. ‘Coffee, be a love.’

  Anna sighed. ‘What did your last slave die of?’

  ‘I figure if I’m to be your slave today, then the least you can do is make me a coffee.’

  ‘OK.’ Anna filled the hob kettle. ‘You guys hear that? You are my witnesses that Diane Johnson hereby declares she will be my slave today.’

  Diane smiled. ‘Yeah, well, I’ll even clean the toilets if it means you join me in the pub tonight.’

  ‘I can’t just leave the children,’ Anna pointed out.

  ‘I’ve sorted that.’

  ‘What?’ Anna turned. ‘Sorted how?’ she asked, narrowing her eyes.

  Diane looked at the twins. ‘Do you guys mind if you get a babysitter this evening?’

  Freddie shook his head. ‘Only if she has stickers.’

  ‘Oh, she’ll have stickers and I’ve heard she’s going to bring…’

  Anna put a firm hand on Diane’s shoulder and nodded towards the door. Once in the front room, Anna said, ‘Who the hell is this babysitter? They’re my children, Dee. You can’t just arrange stuff like this without coming to me first. You know, I like to know who’s looking after my children.’ She nodded. ‘It’s not a game.’

  Diane let out a belly laugh. ‘Yes, I know. That’s why I phoned your mum.’

  ‘What?’ Anna raised her voice. ‘My mother? She doesn’t even like them. I mean…’ She shook her head. ‘That’s not strictly true. She thinks they’re like accessories.’

  ‘No,’ Diane said quickly, ‘that’s in your head. She adores them. She told me so. In fact, we had a nice chat.’

  ‘When was this?’

  ‘After you went to bed last night.’ She grinned. ‘We both agreed that if you got out more you’d realise it’s not normal to be in bed by nine.’

  ‘It is if you’re bringing up children and now live with a home-wrecking nightmare of a best friend.’

  Diane put her hands up in defeat. ‘OK, I’ll ring her and tell her we’re not going any more. That she’s not needed. That we’re just going to stay in and self-medicate instead. Anyway, didn’t you promise Barry?’

  Anna stared into her friend’s big, pitiful eyes and smiled. ‘Fine. You win.’ She walked back to the kitchen, muttering, ‘My mother? Seriously?’

  The twins looked at her and she felt she had to be upfront. ‘It’s Grandma. She’s coming to look after you tonight.’ Anna injected some cheeriness into her voice. ‘You remember last time how much fun you had?’ They stared at her, blankly. ‘I mean, you loved marking her latest purchases out of ten, didn’t you?’

  She could have cried and all because Diane had got some hare-brained idea into her head that she was going to find a man in her local watering hole. It was time to don the marigolds and forget about this evening. Primrose Cottage wouldn’t clean itself but, more importantly, Anna realised, the sooner she cleaned the house, the quicker she could get down to reading her aunt’s diary, which sat invitingly on the side.

  Six hours later, the cottage looked like an entirely different place. Diane had cleaned the toilets, but not without complaint.

  ‘I mean, seriously, Anna? This is probably against the law. I mean, isn’t there, like, a group that protects people like me from having to scrub out other people’s…’

  ‘Dee, language,’ Anna interjected from the other room where she was removing thick layers of dust off the furniture.

  ‘No, I mean, come on. We’re talking layers and I think I’m going to die of bleach poisoning. You know, come to think of it, I do feel light-headed and there is a skull and crossbones on here…’

  ‘Yeah, you’ll die if you drink it, not clean with it.’

  ‘I beg to differ and you know what else, Anna? I mean, you’re living in the middle of the countryside. How do you know you don’t have a septic tank? Do you want to be chucking this stuff down the toilet?’

  Anna entered the bathroom and stared incredulously at Diane, who sat on the toilet seat, earphones stuffed in her ears, eating handfuls of the twins’ Sugar Puffs cereal and reading the back of the bleach bottle.

  ‘You haven’t even got the cap off,’ Anna said drily.

  Diane looked up, unabashed. ‘Better I warn you now than after I’ve done it.’

  Anna crossed her arms, realising she was, sadly, probably right. ‘Clean the shower instead then.’

  Diane huffed. ‘God, such a taskmaster.’

  Anna told Diane about Aunt Flo’s diary.

  ‘Oooh, how exciting,’ Diane breathed.

  Anna nodded. ‘In her letter, she said it was really important to her that I read it.’

  She wondered what on earth her aunt could have kept a secret all these years? As she cleaned, she daydreamed and, by the end of the day, she was convinced her aunt must have been a lesser-known member of the royal family or a spy. She couldn’t wait to sit down, in a private corner, away from the children and Diane, and find out.

  Diane moaned all day, but the twins, on the other hand, threw themselves into their chores. Freddie was shown how to mop the floor and, when Anna returned, she found him bottom first inside the bucket and Antonia skidding around the soapy ice rink that was the front-room floor.

  At five o’clock, Anna declared it the end of the day and settled down on the sofa with a cup of tea and her aunt’s diary.

  At Anna’s proposal they stop, Diane, feet up on the sofa, put down her magazine and lay back in the cushion. ‘Thank God for that.’

  Anna was pleased with the shimmer and shine they had created: the wood burner glass sparkled, the cottage windows reflected their faces and the furniture gleamed. Of course, there was the outside to come, but that would have to wait for another day.

  Diane looked at her watch. ‘By my reckoning, your mother’s going to be here in half an hour and we’re due at the pub at six-thirty.’

  ‘Six-thirty?’ Anna pulled a face. ‘That’s a bit early.’

  ‘Not when you’ve told the landlord we’re journalists and he wants us to take pictures of the pub.’

  ‘Oh, yes, I forgot, we weren’t aiming for a perfectly timed late entrance. Why give everyone the wrong idea?’

  ‘Exactly.’ Diane grinned. ‘I’m off to have a bath.’

&nb
sp; ‘You can’t. The children need to go in there with half their plastic toys.’

  ‘Right, I’m off to put more perfume on then. French style.’ She wafted from the room dramatically and Anna sat, momentarily, until Diane returned. ‘You won’t turn into a princess sitting there. Come on.’

  ‘Let me just read a little of this.’ She indicated the notebook and flipped open to the middle.

  Today I went up to Ridley Manor. Frank told me the house was mine. A present to keep me in the village. He said, however, not to tell anyone he had bought it for me. As if I would! I know that what we have needs to be kept secret, for everyone’s sake.

  Anna read more quickly now, her breath catching. Horatio’s words circling her head. Maybe Horatio had been right; the cottage wasn’t hers after all. She felt as if she had been punched in the stomach.

  The sound of Antonia wailing cut through her thoughts and, feeling confused, she stuffed the diary into a drawer of the bureau.

  Anna heaved her weary limbs up the stairs and found Freddie and Antonia fighting over a rubber duck. She disentangled them both and told them they could watch some Teletubbies – still one of their favourites – for a bit. She propped them up on her bed and fetched her phone. They were soon enthralled by the strange, hallucinatory world of colourful, furry animal-humans.

  Diane had music blaring from speakers attached to her laptop. She bounced in, her cheeks glowing. ‘It’s Katy Perry. I love this song.’ She held a glass of rum and coke. ‘This is like being students or something.’

  Anna looked at her clothes. What was she meant to wear to a speed-dating event at a pub? She had a black cocktail dress but it was short, really short, and, at the other extreme, she had a Laura Ashley tartan dress her mother had picked up for her from a charity shop. Diane hovered in the doorway in black trousers, stretched tightly over her bottom, and a velvet, cleavage-busting camisole.

  ‘What are you thinking?’ Diane did a twirl. ‘Sexy vamp is where my head’s at.’

  Anna nodded. ‘All the way, girlfriend.’

  ‘What you going to wear?’