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‘Oh, my,’ exclaimed Lili as they stepped inside. ‘This is just gorgeous.’
Abigail stopped just inside the doorway, staring around the room in surprise. She’d hoped the relatives had left some of the big bulky items that would take a removal van to shift, like the two dated linen sofas, the wooden table and the four chairs in the lounge, and the white goods – standalone green Aga, fridge freezer and washing machine in the kitchen. She had not expected to turn up to find that the contents of the cottage were not only intact, but untouched, as though nobody had been there since their last visit. It made her wonder if she and Toby had been the last people to holiday there before the owner died and the property went into probate.
‘Well I, for one, can see why you enjoyed coming here. I can’t believe you own it.’
Not for long,thought Abigail, a mixture of emotions, mostly sadness, swirling around inside her at the thought that she didn’t have her soulmate, her Toby, here to share the good fortune.
Lili turned around and caught her friend hovering in the doorway, reluctant to go inside. ‘Have they left everything as it was when you last visited?’ Lili didn’t have to ask the question; she could tell by the look on Abigail’s face that it was just the same.
Abigail walked in and closed the door, staring around the open plan living and dining room.
‘I love the wood burner,’ commented Lili.
Abigail glanced at the large inglenook fireplace with the old Persian rug on the floor in front of it. The adjacent alcove had a cupboard beneath and shelving above, which was full of books about the local area – mainly history books, but also a book of coastal walks, as well as one about walks with dogs. For the first time, Abigail wondered about the woman, Daphne, who had given her husband the cottage. Abigail had always remarked, whenever they’d holidayed in the cottage, that it felt like someone’s home. She’d got the impression that Daphne had lived in The Hideaway for a time before deciding to holiday let it through a local rental agency in Southwold. It was as though she’d walked out one day, leaving all her possessions behind.
There were a lot of ornaments on the shelves; items similar to those that her mother had often collected from her two-week holidays abroad in places like the Costa del Sol and Ibiza. Except these souvenirs – if that was what they were – appeared to be from more far-flung places. She glanced at the sandalwood carvings, among them an elephant and a jewellery box from India, and a small teak Buddha inscribed with its country of origin – Burma.
Her gaze shifted to the two two-seater sofas. She and Toby had always sat on the one nearest the wood burner, so they could look out of the two windows with deep-recessed windowsills on either side of the door. They loved the view which stretched down the meadow and across the road to the distant sea beyond.
While Lili was walking around the lounge, enthusing endlessly about the cottage with its whitewashed walls inside and out, and the Persian rugs covering the slate floor, the deep-seated sofas, the rocking chair in the corner with scatter cushions, and the wealth of character from the sloping, beamed ceilings and wooden latch doors, Abigail just rolled her eyes. It was just the reaction she had been expecting.
She still had the keys in her hand. She held them up. ‘If you love it so much, why don’tyoustay here?’ It sounded terribly sarcastic, and very ungrateful.
Lili stopped talking and turned around.
Abigail shook her head. ‘Please, please don’t apologise. I can’t stand it.’
Lili bit her lower lip. ‘You know what, why don’t I put the kettle on.’
Abigail mumbled, ‘Sorry, that was really uncalled for.’
‘I quite understand.’
But that’s the point, thought Abigail,you don’t. She took her rucksack off and slumped on the sofa where she and Toby had always sat, holding hands and snuggling up to one another, watching television on the small flatscreen TV on the shelf in the alcove. The flatscreen TV was still there, along with an old radio CD player, a DVD player, and – of all things – an old VCR player.
She remembered the first time she and Toby had come here. They’d read the details about the holiday cottage online – Toby hadn’t been able to get over the fact that the same cottage which he’d once lived in with his mother was now a holiday let. He’d thought the VCR listed in the property description had been a mistake, until they’d arrived there and found it. They’d both had some old video tapes they’d kept from their early teenage years and had been surprised that the video player still worked. It hadn’t chewed up and spewed out their tapes, and they’d spent some enjoyable evenings introducing each other to favourite movies they’d enjoyed watching when they were teenagers.
Abigail frowned at the VCR bringing back those memories.
She heard the kettle. A few moments later, Lili had unpacked the shopping and walked in with two cups of tea. She put one on a coaster on the coffee table in front of Abigail. ‘Do you want me to go soon?’
Abigail looked up at her. Yes, she did, but first she had an idea. ‘I’ve got to check upstairs, see if they’ve left the beds.’
‘Oh, crumbs – yes,’ exclaimed Lili. ‘That would be a bit of a bummer, wouldn’t it? I assume they must have left them, going by the furnishings downstairs.’
‘Do you want the grand tour?’ Abigail asked. She thought she might as well show Lili around, to see if there was anything that might put off her prospective buyer – even though Lili had no idea yet that this was what she was.
