Chapter Three
‘Can I take you to a really lovely house?’ said Hattie when Fiona called back. ‘Early this morning is the only time we can do it. I really want you to see it before anyone else has a chance. It’s going on the market on Monday.’
Fiona sighed, obviously tempted. ‘I’d better not. I have so much to do for the wedding. And Lance is in London.’
Hattie was prepared for this. ‘It’s just a little preview. No point in dragging Lance to something he’ll hate. Shall I pop round anyway? I’m over that way and can call in.’
Fiona sighed. ‘Oh, all right then.’
Hattie decided this was not a hard ‘no’ and after they had disconnected she got in the car, hoping her lies wouldn’t catch her out.
When she arrived, Fiona’s mother opened the door to her.
‘I’d be delighted if you could take Fiona out for an hour or so,’ she said rapidly.
‘She’s so stressed about the wedding and she can’t stress if she can’t look at the spreadsheet or worry about Lance liking the colour of the bridesmaids’ dresses. ’
Then Fiona appeared in pyjamas covered in pink elephants. ‘Mum! Invite Hattie in! Oh, you haven’t met, have you? Mum, this is Hattie, house hunter extraordinaire, and this is my mother, Sheila.’
Hattie and Sheila exchanged smiles. ‘Fiona talks about you a lot.’
‘We did have a very bonding early meeting involving a shared piece of chocolate gateau,’ said Hattie. ‘It was so delicious, but Lance was very disapproving of us for putting so much refined sugar into our bodies.’
Sheila laughed. ‘That sounds like Lance! There’s coffee in the kitchen: come through,’ she said, leading the way.
‘I haven’t got much time…’ Hattie said to Sheila’s back.
When they reached the kitchen, Sheila turned to her daughter. ‘Darling, why don’t you pop some clothes on? It would be good for you to get out of the house and if you could pick up some milk while you’re out, it would save me a trip to the shops.’
When Fiona had gone upstairs, Sheila said, ‘I’m quite worried about her. She consults Lance on absolutely everything, and what sort of a man is interested in bridesmaids’ dresses?’
Hattie nodded, aware this question didn’t require an answer. ‘Is he in London a lot?’
Sheila was pouring coffee; she nodded. ‘Of course. It’s where his work is and Fiona gave up a job she loved there. But why do they want to live down here? Why not a nice little flat in Shoreditch?’
‘It is lovely down here. And it’s where you are.
’ Hattie smiled. Sheila wasn’t very like her own mother and she could imagine Fiona wanting to live near her.
‘I feel we’ve got to know each other over the viewings and she’s quite a home bird really, isn’t she?
She’s going to have such fun decorating a house, putting her stamp on it. ’
Sheila pursed her lips. ‘As long as she doesn’t feel obliged to consult Lance on every detail.
And I’m sure she’ll find a nice little part-time job – part-time so she can “be a proper wife” to Lance, as he put it.
But I don’t think Fi should want to live near her parents when she’s first married.
I’m worried, I can tell you.’ She paused.
‘I’ve got no one else to discuss it with.
Fiona’s father just thinks I’m fussing.’
Hattie was worried too but didn’t know what to say.
She put a comforting hand on Sheila’s instead.
It was reassuring to think she would have an ally if she managed to separate Fiona from the horrible Lance.
She took a sip of the too-strong coffee Sheila had given her. ‘I’m afraid I haven’t got long…’
Sheila left the room so she could shout up the stairs. ‘Hurry, darling! You don’t need make-up on.’
Fiona appeared a couple of minutes later looking like a twelve-year-old, pretty but unadorned.
‘Thank you for being so quick,’ said Hattie, abandoning her coffee. ‘We can nip along and see the house and then get the milk.’
As they left the house, Hattie spotted a mobile phone on the hall table, but she didn’t mention it. If it was Fiona’s, it sounded as if it would be good for her to be away from it.
Unfortunately, Fiona remembered her phone when they were hardly out of the drive. She wanted to turn back but Hattie accelerated instead of turning round. ‘We’ll call Lance from my phone when we get to the house. We can send a picture if you like the place.’
Fiona sighed and sat back in her seat. ‘I need to ask him what he thinks about the bridesmaids’ dresses.’
Hattie said, ‘My mother would say that bridesmaids’ dresses were a pink job and not for men to worry about.’ This wasn’t quite true but she wanted to make Fiona laugh.
It did. ‘My mother has said the same, but Lance wants to know every detail about the wedding. He’s very meticulous about everything, even what I wear. When I first met him he sort of examined me and said I should wear sapphires because they’d complement my eyes. So romantic!’
‘Mm,’ said Hattie, non-committal.
‘I always ask his advice before I buy anything now. I love that he’s so interested. He likes to know all about my clothes and my make-up. He’s changed my style quite a bit.’
‘And you don’t mind him changing your style?’ Hattie tried not to show how horrifying she found this thought.
‘Of course not! I love him! I want to be perfect for him.’
‘I’m sure you’re perfect just as you are!’
‘No. He’d like me better if I was thinner and more sophisticated. I’ve been on a diet. I’m hoping my dress will have to be taken in when I next go for a fitting.’ She paused. ‘Once a month, he weighs me.’
Hattie’s mouth went dry. The affair was one thing, but was this lovely young woman a victim of coercive control? If it wasn’t that, it was something very similar. ‘I think you’ve got a wonderful figure.’ She paused, unsure what to say next. She was saved by their turning coming into view.
‘The house is just up here.’
As Hattie negotiated the narrow lane to the house she wondered if she should confide in Fiona’s mother and leave it up to her to separate her daughter from Lance.
What would she do if she was only Fiona’s friend and not her house hunter?
Hattie very rarely mentioned her visions but without doing that, and risking sounding completely bonkers, what could she say?
‘How many bridesmaids are you having?’ Hattie asked. ‘I’m sure you’ve told me.’
‘Just little cousins and things, so six.’
‘No adult ones?’
‘No. Lance isn’t that keen on my friends. We can be quite silly when we get together.’
Hattie forced a laugh. ‘I bet you had a hilarious hen do. Did you go abroad?’
‘I decided against having a big affair. Mummy asked a group of my oldest girlfriends round and we had cake and Prosecco at her house. It was fun.’
Hattie tried to ignore the little sigh that followed this, exclaiming instead, ‘We’re here! Now, I know it’s not exactly what you asked for but it’s good to challenge yourselves sometimes.’ She got out of the car.
‘Like the “mystery house” on Escape to the Country?’ asked Fiona, following Hattie to the front door. ‘That’s always the best one, isn’t it? Oh, can we take a picture of the front and send it to Lance?’
‘Let’s do that later. There might be a better opportunity for a good picture. We’ll get you in it too.’
Fiona laughed merrily. ‘As if! I’ve got no make-up on!’
Hattie bit her tongue on the question of whether Fiona got up before Lance so she could put on subtle make-up and then get back into bed. She had a horrible feeling the answer would be yes.
‘We’ll go in the back door,’ said Hattie. ‘In through the kitchen. You might need to use your imagination as this kitchen hasn’t had anything done to it. But the Belfast sink is original and the range still works, although it might be tricky to cook on.’
Fiona didn’t speak. Hattie watched as the young woman took in the tall mantelpiece over the range where the current owner had displayed a pair of Staffordshire dogs.
Next to the dogs was a spill jar, flat-backed, depicting a shepherdess and a rather squashed lamb.
A jam jar with marigolds in it took up the rest of the space.
There was one deep windowsill behind the sink, with a collection of dusty succulents, several empty stoneware storage jars, and old pots that once contained marmalade, potted meat or Stilton cheese.
There was a cupboard, old but attractive, and a small dresser, full of decorative plates and the detritus of life stuck into jugs and mugs that hung from hooks and filled the shelves in front of the plates.
As well as the period charm and quaintness, there was a good cooker to supplement the range, and a dishwasher.
‘I love this,’ said Fiona with a sigh. ‘It’s got all the things I like. But Lance would say it’s too small and cluttered.’
‘The sitting room is a bit bigger, but I’m afraid there’s no separate dining room, which I know Lance wanted.’
‘It’s lovely!’ said Fiona on seeing the sitting room. ‘It’s a good size, and there’s the dining table so we could still entertain formally.’
Hattie could see how much Fiona loved the house. ‘Why don’t you pop upstairs. There are four bedrooms. Not enormous, but big enough. Two bathrooms…’
‘What I love about this house,’ said Fiona a little later, ‘is that it’s full of charm and all the things I love but has the mod cons we all need.
I think it’s so clever that they’ve fitted the washing machine and dryer upstairs.
It’s where you take your clothes off, after all.
Why do we carry them downstairs and then up again when they’re clean? ’
They had explored the cottage garden, which was slightly on the steep side but offered amazing views, when Hattie said, ‘Which bit shall we take a photo of for Lance? I think these views would be great. If you put in bifold doors you’d have this view from your sitting room and your kitchen.’
Fiona shook her head. ‘I don’t think Lance would like this house. It’s too small for him. He likes a bit of grandeur and he has his heart set on a sweeping drive.’ Fiona laughed although Hattie sensed she didn’t really feel it was funny.
‘It’s going for quite a lot less than your top budget. There’d be change to spend on alterations.’
Fiona shook her head. ‘I don’t think this house should be altered. It’s perfect as it is.’
There was a lot Hattie would have liked to add to that statement but she realised she’d have to tread carefully with Fiona if she were going to help her see Lance for what he really was.
Hattie’s phone rang as she drove back home. It was her sister.
‘Hattie? Can you talk?’ Leonie demanded.
‘I’m driving. Can it wait?’
‘Are you on hands-free?’
‘Of course,’ said Hattie, wondering why her sister always made her feel tired.
‘I can’t bring Xander to you after all. You’ll have to pick him up.’
‘Have to, Lenny? Surely, I don’t have to do anything.’ It was unlike her to challenge her sister but since she’d learnt all those awful things about Lance that morning she felt less ready to be compliant.
‘Oh, you know what I mean! I’ll put him on the train. I hope he’ll be all right. He’s only fifteen…’
‘And so will be fine on the train on his own. Far younger children travel on trains on their own.’
Leonie ignored this. ‘But you’ll collect him from the station?’
Hattie heard anxiety in her sister’s voice, which she knew was her way of feeling love. ‘Of course, otherwise he’ll never find his way to my house. What time?’