A Cottage in the Country: Escape to the cosiest little cottage in the country. Linn Halton B.

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      "Aggie," I mutter in desperation, "I hope I can trust your judgement. He sounds like he knows what he's doing, but he's so damned arrogant. He'd better not let me down."

      I zip up my padded jacket as the damp chill in the air sends a shiver through me. I hope the plumber turns up to fix that vandalised pipe and the oil delivery arrives before my first sleep here.

      "I'm sure it will all be fine, Aggie, and the cottage is going to look lovely. It's in safe hands; promise." Sharing my problems with her might gain me some good karma, but it's sad to think there's no one else to listen to me.

      As I place the key in the lock I almost have to pinch myself. Very soon this will all be mine and even if I have to put up with people like Mr Hart, it will be worth it in the end. I stop for a minute to take in the view and revel in a sense of something akin to renewal. The stresses of modern-day living seem far removed from this scene of peaceful tranquility. As I watch, grey squirrels leap from tree to tree in search of any last remnants of bounty. Even in winter the scene is magnificent.

      On the drive back the rain begins to fall once more.

      My phone pings and it's a text.

       Ryan: You’ve been on my mind. How’s it going?

       Me: Good. I have a kitchen-fitter.

       Ryan: Go you! We should celebrate.

       Me: Rain check on that one. Too much to sort out. Sorry. How r u?

       Ryan: Disappointed. I’m here if u need me.

      Now I feel bad.

       Me: Thanks, really. It means a lot. See you soon, promise!

      Besides, I'm not sure I'd be good company at the moment, but it's too difficult to explain. It strikes me that Ryan has always been there for me no matter what else is happening in his life. I suppose he filled the void that Jeff created as we drifted apart. I don't know why that comes as such a surprise, really.

      The subject of the vandalised oil tank seems to dominate my thoughts. I decided it's madness not to address the problem, as the rain continues to pour relentlessly. There seems to be no let-up whatsoever and it isn't just drizzling rain, but the stuff that soaks you in seconds and makes you feel distinctly miserable. Time for an update.

      "It's not good news," Sharon Greene's very professional tone conveys no emotion, despite her words, and I wonder if that's something a solicitor has to learn. "The bank is insisting that the cottage is sold as seen. They are not prepared to have the vandalised oil tank fixed, and they've rejected my request for you to be allowed access prior to completion to sort out the problem."

      "Can they do that?" I'm rather shocked at what feels like a callous reaction.

      "Their policy with probate cases is that everything in the property is switched off at the mains. The estate agents do not have the authority to switch anything back on in case of a potential leak or the risk of fire. An empty property is at risk, simply because if something happens it could be a while before it's discovered. If the plumber did any damage while carrying out the repair, the bank would be held liable in the first instance. I know it seems harsh, but it's pretty standard practice, it just doesn't come up very often."

      "Well, thank you for trying. It seems I'll have to get a plumber lined up to start work the moment I have the keys and book the oil delivery for later in the day. At least the heating should be on by the evening, so that's some comfort."

      There's absolutely no reaction from Sharon.

      "Is there anything else I can do for you?" It's not a question aimed at evoking a response and I have the distinct feeling she's signing off on this case.

      "No, I think that's it, Sharon. Thank you for your help and I'm only sorry I bothered you with this matter." I feel slightly embarrassed, as if I should have known that dealing with an institution isn't like dealing with a normal person. They don't care if I freeze, or whether the oil tank ever gets filled.

      By some miracle, in less than twenty-four hours I have a plumber who specialises in emergency call-outs. He says he can make himself available from eleven o'clock on moving day.

      The universe must have been sending out good karma and taking pity on me as things begin to fall into place. So the order of play will be keys, plumber, oil delivery – what can go wrong? As if by magic I seem to have everything covered.

      Tick-tock, tick-tock – moving-in day can’t come fast enough! Now if I could just do something about that incessant rain…

LEWIS

       CHAPTER 9

      I don't know who this Miss Brooks thinks she is, but she can't just expect me to jump because she has a problem. Some people are all me, me, me. Does she think I just sit around waiting for the phone to ring and jobs to come in? I've never had any downtime between jobs and if I accommodate her, then someone else will have to wait. Well, I suppose I am lashing out a bit and the truth is that I had built a little slack into my work timetable. But working for her wasn't in the plan.

      I can't refuse, because it's Ash Cottage and I know every inch of it as well as I know the back of my hand. Little Miss I'm-Having-A-Crisis thinks she's smart, but if you ask me she's taken on way too much. Even if this woman does lighten up at some point, I seriously doubt she'll lose that I’m better than you attitude. I'm a tradesman, not a servant. Well, you need me more than I need your money, Missy, so you'd better be careful.

      The mobile kicks into life and it's Sarah from the estate agents. I wonder what she wants? I don't suppose Miss Brooks has changed her mind and realises it's not quite the little project she thought it was going to be!

      "Hi, Lewis. You said to let you know if anything new comes on the market. We've just taken on a little two-bed cottage in Lybrook. It has a lovely garden extending over a quarter of an acre and it's in your price range. Have you started looking again?"

      I can't get my head around looking at properties at the moment. I know Sarah feels awkward and would love to find me the perfect place to put down roots.

      "I've decided to wait a while before I start looking again. My plans have changed slightly and I'm up to my eyes in work."

      "Does that mean you are going to take on the renovation work at Ash Cottage? Miss Brooks did mention your name. I just thought it might be … awkward for you."

      I bet she did.

      "Well, she isn't going to be easy to work with, but at least I'll know it's been done properly."

      "Oh, I didn't mean …"

      I know exactly what Sarah meant, but it doesn’t hurt to let it be known that I’m doing this for my own reasons. It might even get back to Miss Brooks and make her realise she’s lucky I didn’t refuse her point blank.

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