CHAPTER ONE
Parking in the lane beside the gate, I switched off the car engine. It was a cold, crisp January afternoon and already starting to get dark as we surveyed the quirky house before us.
Beside me, Katja breathed, ‘Oh, it’s gorgeous, Ellie! So cute. No wonder you fell in love with it.’
I held up my forefinger. ‘Listen to that.’
‘Listen to what?’ She glanced at me, puzzled.
‘Exactly.’ I smiled at her. ‘Silence. The incredible peace and quiet of the countryside.’
Katja chuckled. ‘True. After the constant buzz of working in the café, just think how lovely it will be to come home to this tranquil rural oasis every day.’
‘I know.’ I rubbed my hands together excitedly. ‘Honestly, Katja, I can’t wait.’
‘Can I see inside it?’
I hesitated. ‘Well . . . it might be better to wait until we at least have floorboards that aren’t rotten, and we’ve investigated every corner for nasties.’
‘Nasties?’ She grimaced. ‘You mean rats? Or insect infestations?’
I laughed. ‘Hopefully not.’
‘It’s not that bad, is it?’ She looked genuinely worried for me.
I shook my head. ‘No, no. The window frames will need replacing but the floors actually seem solid. And even the roof seems to be waterproof. We’ve hired a builder who’s going to be doing a thorough investigation and then we’ll see what needs to be done.’
‘Fingers crossed, not too much.’
I nodded. ‘Luckily, the house was a real bargain. We put in a ridiculously low offer and we couldn’t quite believe it when it was accepted. But it means we’ve got savings left over for the renovations, so I’m not that worried.’ I frowned. ‘Zak’s far more anxious about the whole thing than I am. But hopefully, once we’re settled in, he’ll realise that buying the place was an absolute no-brainer.’
‘Can I just peek in through the window?’ Katja asked eagerly.
‘Yes, of course. Come on.’ We got out of the car and I opened the gate, ushering her in. ‘The driveway’s choked with weeds, so be careful how you go.’
She pointed at the sign for Bogg House. ‘Bit of a shame about the name, but you can always change it.’
I smiled. ‘We will. It deserves a much prettier name than that.’
The sign for Bogg House had been carved into a piece of wood and fixed to the bricks above the front door. I’d always thought it looked a bit odd there. Worse, it had worked loose at one side and was now hanging at a jaunty angle.
I’d need to have it taken down, then I’d order a lovely new one to put up when the renovation was finished – once we’d decided what we were actually going to call our new home. (Katja was right. The name, Bogg House, really had to go!)
We looked through the living room window and Katja praised the height of the ceiling and the generous size of the well-proportioned space. (I didn’t tell her about the oddly musty smell in there that made me think something might have retreated into a cupboard to end its days!)
I was about to suggest we look through the dining room windows when voices drifted over and the silence was suddenly split by the great roar of an engine starting up.
‘What on earth?’ Shocked, I spun round and peered in the direction of the unexpected commotion. It seemed to be coming from a neighbouring field.
‘What’s going on?’ wondered Katja as we made our way through the jungle of a front garden back to the lane. ‘Is it a farm vehicle, do you think?’
‘There’s not usually much harvesting happening on an afternoon in mid-January,’ I murmured. ‘Or is there?’ I shook my head, bewildered. ‘I guess farmers are busy all year round.’
Katja had crossed the lane and was leaning over the fence. ‘It’s people on quad bikes, Ellie. Look.’
I joined her, and sure enough, a gang of about five teenage boys were gathered in the field, two of them perched on the quad bikes in question, roaring along in a race and being cheered on by their mates.
I grinned as we got back into the car. ‘So much for the tranquil rural oasis you were talking about.’
‘I know. I hope the neighbours are nice,’ she said doubtfully.
‘I’m sure they will be. Those boys have probably just got quad bikes for Christmas. The novelty’s bound to wear off.’
‘Of course,’ she agreed, although I could tell her initial impression of Bogg House had lost a little of its magic.
But I wasn’t worried. Life would usually step in to muddy your dream of perfection. It was almost guaranteed. But it would take a lot more than a few noisy teenagers to take the shine off this gorgeous house for me.
I turned to Katja. ‘So where are we going next? Did you say you were needing to stock up on underwear?’
She smiled ruefully. ‘I’d just like to spice up our times in the bedroom, if you know what I mean.’
‘Oh. Right.’
Katja had been in a relationship with Richard for several years now, I’d thought really happily. But maybe the magic was wearing off there as well.
‘You know he’s being seconded to the New York office?’
‘Yes. He leaves next week, doesn’t he?’
‘He does. But honestly, Ellie, it feels as if he left for the Big Apple weeks ago. He’s so distant and distracted these days.’
‘He’ll have the big adventure on his mind.’
She looked glum. ‘I wish he’d held onto his business in Sunnybrook. It was doing really well. But I suppose if a huge international company tempts you with a much bigger salary, it’s hard to resist.’ She sighed. ‘To be honest, Ellie, we were drifting apart long before his bosses told him about New York.’
‘Right.’ I glanced at her worriedly. ‘You never said.’
She shrugged. ‘I thought it was just a blip at first. I mean, all relationships have their ups and downs.’
‘True. Zak and I haven’t been . . . intimate . . . for ages now. It’s partly my fault because I feel so fat and unattractive these days, but it doesn’t help that Zak now thinks I’m a piece of priceless china to be handled with caution.’
‘You’re not fat. You’re blooming.’
‘Thanks.’ I grinned at her. ‘It’s a strange mix of feelings when you’re pregnant. But mostly, I’m just deliriously happy about little Sprout here.’ I patted my bump lovingly. Zak had referred to the baby as Sprout a while ago, we’d laughed and it had stuck.
‘Zak must be over the moon as well, I imagine.’
‘Absolutely. Except . . . well, he’s really down about work.’
‘His writing’s not going well?’
‘Terrible. He was dumped by his agent a few months ago because sales for his latest book weren’t great. So now he’s thinking he’ll publish the next book himself. But he’s been trying to think up a plot for it and the ideas just won’t come.’
‘Oh, dear. That must be quite scary. I mean, stories are his bread and butter.’
I nodded gloomily, starting the car. ‘Anyway, I digress. Back to you and Richard. So what’s the plan on the spicy sex revival?’
She grinned, her eyes sparkling wickedly. ‘Fasten your seatbelt. You’re about to find out.’