Dreams of a Little Cornish Cottage

by Nancy Barone

  He pulled his gloves back on and buckled his tool belt.

  ‘Delicious, isn’t he, with that strut?’ Mum said, craning her neck to admire his derrière as I walked back into the house.

  ‘Mum.’ I laughed, seeing as he was out of earshot. ‘You’ve got to stop looking at his bottom.’ Dearie me, could mother and daughter think of nothing else lately?

  At that, Connor turned around and slid us an amused gaze. I slapped my hand over my forehead. ‘You see, he heard you? You’re going to get us into trouble one of these days, Mum.’

  But she only laughed. ‘What’s wrong with looking? You can start worrying when I jump his bones, but for now, while my ankle is like this, I’d say he’s safe. But not for long. You can go first, if you want.’

  I shook my head, but I was happy whenever she was like this. She had never been any fun before. Dr Simpson had been right. There was a silver lining, in the sense that her personality hadn’t deteriorated further, but if anything, she had mellowed. I liked this new version of my mother. Now I felt that I could actually talk to her, and not just cower at her harsh judgements.

  And I suddenly realised that between Neil and the other version of my mother, I had been kept in a vice. And now I felt, well, if not free from my obligations as daughter to an ill mother, at least liberated from my self-doubt as a wife. Neil had said that no one else would want me because I was always so demure and insignificant. But instead, thanks to his betrayal, I’d discovered that not only was I strong, but that I had also found my self-confidence again.

  As Mum read her Good Housekeeping magazines, tearing out the recipes she liked, I worked on my column, all the while watching the happenings with Connor under the oak tree. Even at a distance of a hundred feet, I missed him. I longed to have him close by, but I couldn’t risk it with the excuse of going down there to check up on them. I was like an open book, and I knew that if I wasn’t careful, even the twins would suss me out.

  Did he have any idea of how much I fancied him? Had he read in between the lines of my kiss? He was probably having the time of his life, teasing me like that. He must have known I found him sexy. And even outside the house, women’s reactions when he passed by were more than obvious. But what did he do? Like the gentleman that he was, he kept everything polite and PG-14. It was positively infuriating.

  I watched as he climbed the ladder, talking and laughing with the girls. They adored him, too. It was more than obvious. In a matter of weeks he had managed to become indispensable to the entire family.

  And then I wondered what his relationship had been like with his ex-wife, and why that had ended.

  *

  On the Monday I sat down in my chair for my video chat with The Hound, ramrod straight, reasonably optimistic that our ruse had secured my job.

  ‘Well, hello, talk of the town!’ Octavia called as she appeared on my computer screen, and I saw her mobile at her ear as she was actually still on the phone with someone else. Typical Octavia.

  ‘Sorry, love, gotta run. I have a meeting with Natalia Amore,’ she said as she winked at me. ‘Yes, precisely that Natalia Amore – not that there’s anyone else like her, is there? After all, she is one of my top writers. Laters!’ she called and hung up.

  ‘Natalia, so glad to see you!’ she called and I kept fighting the urge to look behind me to see if there was indeed another Natalia in the room. But no, it was only me. Only a few days ago she wanted my arse out, and now she was glad to see me, just because she thought I was sleeping with a gorgeous, younger man? ‘That was quite a stir you caused. So spill the beans! Where’s he from, what does he do, how did you meet?’

  Maggie had been right. We had been believable, apparently.

  I coughed and cleared my throat. ‘H-he’s from Dublin, and we met…’ I floundered, trying to remember the story we’d made up ‘…at Sainsbury’s. In the cakes section.’

  ‘Yes, yes?’ she prompted as if her life depended on it, although actually that was only true for me. ‘But how did you actually decide to go out together?’ Which was clearly something that she couldn’t, for the life of her, figure out.

  ‘Well, we were talking about Danish cinnamon rolls when he said, “Seeing as we both have a sweet tooth for cakes, why don’t we share some along with some coffee in the village?”’

  ‘Excellent,’ she cackled. ‘And then?’

  ‘And then?’ What did she mean by that exactly? Gosh, I hoped she wasn’t angling – or in her case, demanding the details of what never happened. ‘How long has this been going on?’ she asked.

  ‘Oh?’ I shrugged. ‘A couple of months.’

  ‘Right. And what does he do?’

  ‘He’s a lawyer with an IT company.’

  ‘So you’re living together now? God, that was quick. Most women can’t get a man to commit to a mobile phone provider, let alone a relationship. So, what’s the arrangement? I know he’s younger, so are you his sugar mama?’

  Meaning, did I pay him? ‘Absolutely not,’ I assured her. ‘We were friends for a long time before we realised that we, uhm…’

  She studied me at length through the screen, and I knew that any minute she was going to tell me that the jig was up, and who the hell did I think would fall for that?

  But instead, she said, ‘Excellent. I can’t wait to read your next article.’

  ‘So I’m keeping my monthly column?’

  ‘Sort of. You’ll provide a monthly account of your own experience about living with a younger man.’

  ‘Thank you, I’m very gla— I beg your pardon, Octavia? Did you just say monthly account? You want another article about Connor?’ Oh my God in heaven.

  ‘Absolutely yes. Two thousand words monthly. And no more hiding.’

  ‘Hiding?’

  ‘Yes. I want pictures galore along with your articles. This will make the older ladies swoon. We want to know every detail of your glamorously naughty life. Or shall I say naughtily glamourous?’

  ‘The older ladies?’ I aped. ‘But… but… I thought you said you wanted to uhm – rejuvenate the magazine…?’

  ‘Of course. But there will always be a portion of Old Faithfuls reading us and we need to keep their interest, otherwise they’ll run for our rival publications. Demographics of women your age are sky-high.’

  I could have told her that – in fact I had told her that, but she hadn’t listened. Now of course, it was all her bright thinking. But who cared? I had my income back! Provided I could talk Connor into lying just a little longer.

  This was it. This was my chance to not only keep my job, but to be a double-pager, and not just the measly single-paged writer who has to say it in eight hundred words. A double-pager would be just the ticket.

  So it would be fair to say that, through no fault of my own, Octavia – and half the capital, apparently – had fallen for it, hook, line and by-line. But now to run it by my accomplice. Because one thing was an evening, but how on earth was I going to ask Connor to keep up the farce, and live the lie indefinitely?

  If done on a regular basis, he’d have to be seen with me as much as possible. I couldn’t ask him to fake it for the rest of his life. Not after that kiss that almost killed me.

  13

  White Lies Have Tiny Legs

  If until now I’d been blissfully ignorant of all the implications of The Farce, now I was absolutely terrified. Things I’d never thought of were now rushing to the fore.

  Namely, how the hell was I going to tell Connor that I still needed him to lie for me? A night out and free champers was one thing – but now? With what courage could I ask him to sustain The Farce – and for how much longer? Octavia Hounslow was smart. For how long could I keep fooling her? I’d have to think of something, and quick.

  ‘So how did that go?’ Connor asked as I sauntered into the kitchen.

  ‘She, uhm, offered me a double-paged column of my own.’

  He put the kettle down and took my hands in his. ‘That’s brilliant, Nat! Huge congratul
ations! Not that I had any doubts. This calls for some champagne! I know – dinner tonight, how’s that?’

  I bit my lip, eyeing him.

  ‘What’s wrong?’ he asked.

  Spit it out, Nat, I told myself.

  ‘She… she wants the topic of my entire column to be my life with you, the younger man. Oh, Connor, I really want this job, but I’m aware that it’s not fair because it would bind you.’

  He was silent and I could tell that he was uncomfortable with all this. If one night had been a lot to ask, imagine the foreseeable future.

  ‘Bind me…?’

  I shrugged. ‘You know, the seasonal parties, the company dinners and stuff. If she gets wind that you and I aren’t an item, I’m toast. But I know I can’t ask you to do that for me. You have your own life and I shouldn’t be putting you on the spot like this.’

  He sat down at the table. ‘Listen, Nat. I’m quite a private person and I hate to lie. But this is about you and your job. How can I say no to helping you? Of course I’ll do it.’

  ‘But – you’re too young to waste your time when you could actually be in a relationship.’

  His eyebrows rose.

  ‘With someone else,’ I hastily added. ‘Unless, you already are?’

  And now, hopefully, he’d put me out of my misery by spilling the beans on Felicity, or whoever his secret girl was. And whoever she was, I doubted very much that she knew what bed he’d been sleeping in right after the ball. Tendrils of guilt slid down my neck and into my heart. I was not going to be the other woman, not even by mistake.

  He smiled. ‘It’s only temporary. And believe me, I’ve had more relationships than necessary in the past. And now I want to concentrate on other things in life and other kinds of relationships. Plus, you know?’

  I looked up at him as he squeezed my hand. No, actually, I didn’t know. What was only temporary, the farce, or his current relationship? This was confusing.

  He grinned and caressed my cheek with his forefinger. ‘I’m being selfish here, Nat. Being around you, in this house with your family makes me feel good, like I actually have a place and a purpose in life.’

  Okay, now I was really confused.

  ‘So if you’re asking me if I’m okay being seen with you and pretending there is something between us, the answer is yes because I want to help. Besides, we should let fate decide.’

  Let fate decide? Did that mean that we actually had a chance? Now I was flabbergasted. Was it possible that Connor, so young and handsome, although not as free as the wind, was interested in me after all? And that he was two-timing his girlfriend, like Neil had been two-timing me? Because if so, I couldn’t accept to be in that kind of situation. I could never do to another woman what had been done to me.

  ‘Fate?’ I echoed. ‘Just make sure you don’t hurt anyone, Connor.’

  His mouth snapped shut. ‘I’m trying not to, Nat. Truly I’m not.’

  Ah. Bingo.

  *

  Over the weeks Connor became my creative sounding board for my toy boy scenario. I worked like a madwoman, pounding out onto my laptop all sorts of dinners and dates and funny scenarios that I’d imagined happening between Connor and me. Connor would read it and cackle in delight, and give me a thumbs up. The fun part of dating and starting a relationship. Oh, if only an iota of it had been true.

  One day Yolanda video-called me on my mobile.

  ‘Natalia – hi! How is everything? How are my girls?’

  ‘Your girls are blossoming, Yolanda. They are just beautiful and smart and you’d be very proud of them.’

  ‘I am very proud of them,’ she pointed out.

  ‘Oh, no, I meant if you were— Of course you’re proud of them. They have your beauty and your brains.’

  That seemed to mellow her instantly. ‘And school? Sports? Friends?’

  ‘Bless them, they’re on every team now, thanks to—’

  ‘Your tenant?’

  ‘Connor, yes. He… he spends many afternoons coaching them. You should see Zoe, how she’s come out of her shell! And Amy – the way she now waits for her turn! She’s developing the art of patience and sportsmanship like no other.’

  ‘And where are you during all this?’

  ‘Oh, half the time I’m with Mum, while the other half I’m cooking or cleaning or working…’

  ‘So you leave them alone with him? A total stranger?’

  ‘Don’t start on me again, Yola. I’m not in the mood.’

  ‘Okay, okay, I’m sorry. I didn’t call to fight. I need a favour.’

  Ah. That explained the quick apology. ‘What do you need?’

  ‘I need you to keep the girls a little longer,’ she said. ‘Until Christmas.’

  ‘Yola, are you serious? When are these poor girls actually going to get to see you?

  ‘Nat – come, on, work with me here. They’ve extended my show by another few episodes and I’ll never make it back for when I said.’

  ‘I thought you said you wanted to take the girls on a cruise.’

  ‘I do, but it will all have to wait. Listen, can you keep them or not? Because I can always call the nanny.’

  The idea of a stranger taking care of my nieces made my skin crawl. ‘Of course I’ll keep them with me, Yola, but don’t you miss them at all?’

  ‘Of course I miss them, but I have no choice. My career is on the rise now and I have to ride the wave. Not that you’d understand.’

  ‘Of course not,’ I agreed, my voice dripping with sarcasm. ‘But it would be nice if you could find the time to actually speak to them yourselves.’

  ‘Is it my fault if I’m five hours behind?’ she snapped. ‘You think I don’t care about my girls? Would you rather I be worried sick about them?’

  Jesus. ‘Yolanda, I’m sorry but I have to get back to my column now. Talk soon. Text me a video chat time for over the weekend and I’ll have the girls have an afternoon nap so they can stay up late enough to talk to you, okay?’

  ‘Right,’ she said. ‘See you.’

  ‘See you,’ I said, but she had already hung up.

  *

  As it turned out, in the end I decided not to find Mum another GP. Not that I couldn’t. But I didn’t want to remove a familiar face from my mother, while she still recognised him, that is. Also, I didn’t want to make things worse between Neil and myself for the girls’ sake. After all, we belonged to the same family, and the last thing I needed was to prolong the feud.

  ‘Mum says you’re going out with Him With The Face again tonight?’ Neil asked, or rather accused, as he snapped his briefcase shut. So much for peace.

  He was jealous of Him With The Face. Not that I could blame him. You might think that the charm would complete the ensemble, but that still wasn’t it. What Connor had was intangible. It was a presence, a warmth, a soulfulness that you didn’t expect from someone looking like him. And you didn’t expect someone looking like him hanging out with someone like me.

  ‘And?’ I prompted.

  ‘Well, who’s watching Mum in the meantime?’ he threw at me.

  ‘First of all, Neil, let me make this clear once and for all. She is not your mother. She’s mine.’

  ‘Not that you’d notice,’ he snapped. ‘You should be staying home with your mother, not showing off your new boyfriend.’

  Oh, if he only knew.

  ‘He’s not right for you, Natalia.’

  ‘And you are?’

  ‘Of course I am. I love you. I always have.’

  ‘Yeah, especially when you were with the other ladies.’

  ‘I thought we were past that.’

  ‘You may be, but I’m not.’

  ‘When are you going to actually forgive me for that tiny indiscretion and take me back?’

  ‘Tiny indiscretion? Neil, you were seeing her for months before I found out – if not years.’

  He sighed. ‘Look, I promise to behave myself. If you take me back, we can work on our marriage. You won’t have to work
so hard and I’ll provide for you. I’ll make your life better.’

  I huffed in disbelief. ‘That’s what you promised me when you proposed, Neil. If anything, apart from our daughters, you’ve made it worse. I gave up everything for you.’

  ‘What, you mean your writing career? It’s not my fault you write for that silly rag, is it?’

  See what I was up against? ‘Keep your opinions about my choices to yourself, Neil.’

  ‘I’m sorry. I just want another chance, Nat.’

  ‘Would you take me back if I’d cheated on you?’

  He baulked, his eyes clouding over. Whether with disappointment that I would even think of such a thing, or worry that I had, I didn’t know.

  ‘Exactly. Goodbye, Neil.’

  *

  Later that day, I decided to take the girls for a stroll down the footpath to the beach. Connor was just getting in through the orangery, his laptop under his arm.

  ‘Hey,’ I said as the girls were putting their sandals on by the French doors at the back. ‘Just in time. Would you like to join us for a beachcomb?’

  He came through, his harried expression fading at the idea and already he was smiling. ‘Love to. Just give me a sec to change.’

  ‘Hurry up, Connor,’ Zoe said, jumping up and down. ‘I want to catch crabs!’

  I suppressed a laugh and he chuckled and ruffled her hair. ‘You guys are so cute,’ he said, our eyes meeting. ‘Be right back. Ice creams are on me!’ he called as he ran up the stairs.

  *

  As we dug our bare feet into the sand, I relished the feeling of freedom while it lasted. Only here, down in Wyllow Cove, did I feel relaxed. All my thoughts and worries seemed to fade.

  As we strolled up the beach, my mobile phone beeped. It was Hannah Williams, the real estate agent selling Lavender Cottage. I only hoped she wasn’t the bearer of bad news, i.e. that there were other more determined buyers than me.

  ‘Aren’t you going to answer that?’ Connor asked.

  I nodded, my fingers shaking as I tapped on the green dot.

  ‘Mrs Amore? It’s Hannah Williams. When would it be a good time to come and look at your house?’