Dream Cottage by Harriet J Kent

hill in the distance.
    “What a fantastic view, dear. Imagine waking up to that every morning.”
    “I know,” Greta smiled. “Do you remember when we were in the pub? When I first saw this place. When we came down here with Laurel and Hardy. I just knew it was the place. Even from the outside; I could see through all the repairs and dilapidations and all the work that it needed. It just felt so right, so very much like we were destined to live here.”
    “Always one to go with your gut instincts, aren’t you?” Jeanne warmly held on to Greta’s arm. “Sometimes, it’s the best way to be. The surest way to make your decisions.”
    “I am a great believer of fate and that each person’s destiny is mapped out for them. They just have to find the right route.” Greta nodded to herself.
    “Very true, dear. It didn’t take you long to find yours,did it?” Jeanne hugged her daughter’s arm in appreciation.
    They gazed out at the view across the fields and to the distant down land. There was a lone tractor working on the hillside, in silence, with only birdsong that could be heard including the intermittent call and flap of wings of a cock pheasant.
    “When did you say the builders are starting work?” Jeanne broke the silence.
    “Monday. Max and the architect will be here too. Poring over the plans, no doubt.”
    “And who’s going to be the project manager?” Jeanne coined the phrase, pretending to sound intelligent and modern.
    “Moi, of course!” Greta announced. “Max will be leaving on Monday evening and won’t be back until the weekend, so I will be overseeing what they do. How many cups of tea they drink; packets of biscuits they can devour.”
    “Good job, dear. Need to keep the blighters on their toes. No slacking, eh? Lots of work to be done!”
    “You sound like the father!” Greta laughed.
    “The poor, dear, father. He means well; just gets under my feet,” Jeanne sighed. “Still, I wouldn’t want him any other way,” she added.
    Jeanne began to walk around the bedroom.
    “Will you be having an ensuite?”
    “Yes, and a dressing room. There is just about enough space to fit them in. You must have a look at the plans. They look fantastic. I just hope it works!” Greta mused.
    “And what about your job, darling? When will you be leaving?” Jeanne nonchalantly asked.
    “My boss said that I can stay on, as a consultant; I will be able to work from home, with just the occasional trip up to London for meetings. I can’t wait!” Greta smiled.
    “So you will be a permanent resident on our beautiful Island then?”
    “Yep! Hopefully, I will be back home!” Greta replied.
    “Is Maxim okay with that?” Jeanne gently probed.
    “Well, he hasn’t said that he isn’t.”
    “Wonderful, darling!” Jeanne kissed her daughter’s cheek. “You are such a lucky girl!”
    Max and Charles joined them, clutching glasses and the champagne. Max elected to pop the cork with Charles holding firmly on to two glasses. Perfectly chilled, everyone raised charged glasses. Max proposed a toast.
    “Here’s to a new life in the country; to Greta, to Jeanne and Charles for their home we will be using as a hotel and also to all the renovations! May they run as smoothly as clockwork!”
    Glasses chinked and ‘hear, hear’ s echoed around the empty bedroom.
    Max smiled at Greta who was wiping away a solitary tear from her cheek. “You made it back home!”
    Greta mouthed to Max, “I love you!”

Chapter Ten
    Over the following weeks, Greenacres resembled a bombsite. Every room had been gutted by the builders. Lathe and plaster had been torn down from the ceilings and walls, floorboards lifted and removed. The cottage stood in its naked state with bare walls and floor joists. Greta was amazed at just how much masonry and dust had been created. She gave up trying to clear away oceans of it in her industrial sized vacuum cleaner. The builders, supervised by Mike the architect, had made a good impression