Sunshine Over Wildflower Cottage Read Online Free PDF Page B

have a washing machine, but there’s one in the cottage,’ said Geraldine. ‘Obviously, you can use it whenever you want. There’s a washing line in the garden and a tumble drier in the cottage kitchen. Let me show you upstairs.’ Viv followed Geraldine up the narrow wooden staircase. There at the top of it was the prettiest bedroom ever with white-painted walls and another arched window. There was a three-quarter-sized bed, an old oak wardrobe and a long ornate mirror propped up at the side of a door which led to a very tiny bathroom. A faint smell of unlived-in damp and an artificial rose spray pervaded the air. Nothing that a good dose of fresh air from an open window wouldn’t kick into touch, thought Viv.
    ‘It’s lovely.’
    ‘It is, isn’t it?’ agreed Geraldine. ‘It was a ruin until three years ago. No one knows how long it’s been here or who built it. Heath and a couple of men from the village renovated it. It was my idea to turn it into a little house for whoever we got to help us run things. I thought it might help to attract someone decent because the money certainly wouldn’t. Present company excepted, of course,’ she added quickly. ‘Anyway, the design is very clever. The bed is high so you can store things underneath it and there are secret storage cupboards everywhere. Oh, and it does creak a bit at night as it cools, I do warn you, but it’s just house noises, not ghosts.’
    No ghost could be as scary as those birds
, thought Viv.
    ‘When will he . . . Heath . . . be back so I can meet him?’ Viv had always preferred to run towards impending disasters rather than from them. That way they were over and done with sooner rather than later.
    ‘I was hoping tonight; tomorrow latest,’ replied Geraldine, worry again furrowing her brow. ‘I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything. Goodness knows what a picture I’ve painted.’ She sighed as if the world and its brother were weighting down her shoulders. Viv put on her best ‘look, it’s all right’ smile.
    ‘I’m sure we’ll get on when we meet each other.’
    ‘Bless you for making me feel better,’ said Geraldine. ‘Words always sound fine in my head but there’s a filter in my mouth that makes them come out wrong.’ She absently nudged her hair back from the left side of her face and Viv noticed the silvery line of scar tissue crossing her eyebrow and curling towards her ear. ‘All I ask is, give us a chance. Now let me leave you to unpack and settle in. Come and have some supper with me when you’ve found your feet. Nothing flash, just some field mushroom broth but it’s a lovely recipe.’
    ‘Thank you, I will.’
    When Geraldine had gone, Viv rang her mother to let her know she had arrived safely. Stel picked up after one ring, as if she had been sitting by the phone waiting for the call.
    ‘Thank goodness you’ve arrived,’ she said, as concerned as if Viv had trekked to Base Camp on Everest. ‘How is it? What are the people like? Have you eaten?’
    ‘Mum, I am fine. I have a lovely little bijou house—’
    ‘Bijou?’ Stel interrupted. ‘Estate agents say bijou when they mean minuscule and poky.’
    ‘Yes, well, I’m not an estate agent and I mean bijou in the very nicest way. It’s tiny and sweet, like a miniature castle, and in the prettiest valley.’
    Stel opened her mouth to release so many things that were crowded in there, waiting to rush out:
make sure you lock your door, don’t let them work you too hard, is your tetanus injection up to date?
Her girl was a woman now and the apron strings were ripe for snapping. It didn’t make it any easier that Viv was far more sensible at her age than Stel had ever been.
Funny how we’re so different
, thought Stel. But then, it wasn’t, really.
    ‘Well, you keep in touch with me and let me know you’re doing okay,’ was all she allowed herself to say.
    ‘I will, Mum. Has Basil come back in yet?’
    ‘Oh yes, he came back about an hour ago. He’s