by Lisa Hobman
When Sam had finally crawled out of bed and spoken to the agent later that morning, it was suggested that it would be best for them to travel up to view the property as soon as possible as there had been a lot of interest from other parties. This was unwelcome news and Mallory’s nerves jangled even more. Since talking to Josie things had become real and the prospect of losing the cottage before they had it filled her with dread.
But Sam didn’t falter. He simply proceeded to book a bed and breakfast a short drive from the Sealladh-mara cottage for them to take a few days break in the area the following weekend. They would have a nail-biting wait, hoping and praying that no one would pip them to the post.
*
After a ridiculously early start to drop Ruby off with Josie and Brad, Mallory and Sam arrived around noon at the B and B they had found, located at Easdale, just along the road from the Atlantic Bridge. The owner greeted them with home-made Scottish shortbread and fresh coffee. Their appointment with the agent wasn’t until one o’clock and so they had an hour to relax in their room. The problem was that Mallory’s nerves were on end and she found it hard to sit still, never mind relax. Her palms were sweating and her heart rate could rival that of someone running a trolley dash. She kept glancing at her watch.
Sam smiled and shook his head. ‘Mally, honey, you’re driving me crazy. Would you please just calm down. We’re here. It’s not long now.’ He pulled her into an embrace on the squashy bed and kissed her. The kiss was enough to temporarily fog her brain into a calm trance-like state as his delicious lips moved over hers. She sighed against his mouth and felt him smile. Suddenly Mallory’s phone began to beep.
‘Ooh, it’s time!’ She leapt from his arms. ‘Come on slowcoach!’ She tugged him by the hands and he allowed her to pull him upright, shaking his head again, a grin firmly fixed on his face.
‘Yup, crazy,’ he muttered to himself.
The drive along the road to the cottage took all of ten minutes. There were jagged rocks rising skyward to Mallory’s left side, with a few houses dotted just in front. She peered out of the window next to Sam as he drove, killing two birds with one stone. On the one hand, she was able to look at Sam’s handsome unshaven profile and on the other she could look over the Firth of Lorne. The winter sun glistened like scattered diamonds on the sea and the rocks way out in the distance looked like a stationary ship that had dropped anchor just off the stunning coastline. She couldn’t help but allow the small smile that had been curling up the corners of her mouth to spread into a full-on grin. Why on earth it took me so long to agree to this I’ll never know.
They passed a pub on their left-hand side. That’s handy, Mallory thought as she appraised the old white building with its wooden outdoor benches. Across from the pub was a small parking area and what looked like a little tourist information hut. The bridge stretched out over to their right. A large beautiful stone structure where she and Sam had stood before and admired the spectacular vista out towards the ocean.
The road curved around to the right and traversed over the hump, but they pulled off to the left onto a little track that ran parallel with the water as it swept along under the bridge and out to sea.
The double-fronted, whitewashed Sealladh-mara Cottage stood looking out over the firth. The little path that led up to the front door was dusted with frost where the sun hadn’t yet reached. They were greeted by the estate agent who was quite young and not what Mallory had expected.
‘Ah, Mr and Mrs Buchanan I presume?’ The suited man held out his hand. ‘Jim Warriner of McTavish and Co.’
‘I wish,’ Sam smiled, shaking the man’s hand. ‘She has agreed to marry me but we haven’t done the deed just yet.’
Mallory blushed and held out her hand. ‘Mallory Westerman. Pleased to meet you.’
‘Well, the door is open, feel free to have a good roam around. I’ll wait in my car so you have some privacy. Oh, and there are still a few bits in there belonging to the owner. He hasn’t quite cleared the place out yet. It should all be done by the end of this week.’
Sam nodded. ‘Great, thanks. We’ll see you soon.’
The estate agent returned to his vehicle and the couple made their way into the house.
They stepped into the entrance hall and were met with two doors, one to the right and one to the left. Straight ahead was the staircase. Mallory reached for the door on the right. She gasped as the door opened onto the lounge. The ceilings were surprisingly high considering the cottage was almost two hundred years old and despite some of the owner’s effects still being dotted around the place, Mallory could mentally place all of their furniture. A brick inglenook fireplace sat under a large, gnarled and pitted oak beam mantle on the wall opposite the door. The log-burning stove stood in the middle of the slate hearth with a thin layer of dust atop it.
‘Oh Sam, it’s a Christmas house,’ she exclaimed, as her eyes travelled around the white walls that were in need of a freshen up.
Sam’s brow furrowed. ‘Sorry, a what now?’
She turned to Sam with an excited grin, her hands splayed out in the air. ‘Okay, imagine this…’ She walked over to the fireplace. ‘The log burner is crackling away with a fresh pine log… there’s an evergreen and berry garland stretched across the mantle…’ She gestured wildly to where the adornment would sit, and then moved to the corner of the room. ‘Over in this corner is a real Christmas tree, not one of those plastic artificial things…’ Her nose scrunched at the thought. ‘No, a real tree trimmed with baubles and beads, filling the air with its fresh scent.’ Glancing over to where Sam stood in the centre of the room, she crouched. ‘Under the tree are little brightly coloured packages, tied up with ribbons, waiting to be opened…’ She rose again and moved back over to the fireplace and waved her hands at the empty floor space. ‘There’s a rug in front of the fire and Ruby’s curled up fast asleep…’ Crouching again, she reached out her hand. ‘Eventually… maybe there’ll be a mini Sam or Mallory sitting, wide-eyed, waiting for Santa to come… although, explaining how he’ll get through a stove may be tricky.’ She laughed as she imagined that scenario. Standing, she moved over towards the door that led through to the kitchen and closed her eyes. ‘There’s a delicious aroma of spiced fruit cake floating through the house…’ Her fingers flickered around in the air. ‘And in the background Bing Crosby is singing about snow…’ She brought her arms around her body and sighed. Breaking herself from her vision, she turned to Sam. ‘Hey, are you okay, honey?’
His eyes had misted over. He strode across the room and wrapped her in his arms. He kissed her forehead. ‘Mally, I can honestly say I can see every little thing you just described and it’s perfect. I can’t wait for it all. I can’t wait to share it all with you. What you described… it kinda took me back to my Christmases at home. My family will love this place. My dad would have loved it.’
She tiptoed to brush his lips with her own and smiled lovingly. ‘You big softy. It’ll be perfect because we get to have this adventure together. And I can’t wait for your family to see it. We have to get this house, Sam.’
He laughed. ‘We haven’t even seen the rest of it yet.’
She shrugged. ‘Don’t have to. I know when something’s right. I just know.’ She pulled away and took his hand.
They walked through the lounge towards the back of the house to find the kitchen. The walls were fitted with rustic pine units and granite worktops, very similar to those at Railway Terraces. It needed freshening like the lounge but it wouldn’t take much. There was enough room for a small table where you could sit and look out over the pretty garden – once it had been tidied up; it was rather overgrown in its current state.
They exchanged smiles and walked from the kitchen almost in a circle back around to another room at the front of the house. This was the dining room they had longed for. There was an open fire in this room too and plenty of space for a large table, right in the middle, which would look wonderful surrounded by friends and family at Chri
stmas time. It would certainly beat dinner on a tray which is what their friends were subjected to when they visited their current home. There was room by the window for Sam’s old writing desk that he had found at an antiques fair in Leeds and the beat-up old leather chair he bought from a charity shop, insisting it was the comfiest thing he had ever sat upon.
Back to the hallway and up the stairs. There were two smaller bedrooms, one to the front and one to the back. Both felt spacious despite the lower than average ceiling heights but they would be fine for guests. One could even be an office. They could decide later. The master bedroom had a small en-suite shower room in one corner and a window that overlooked the little front garden and the view out to the water beyond. It was so beautiful.
‘Wow, Sam. Imagine waking up to that every morning.’ Mallory slid her arms around her fiancé’s waist as he soaked in the view.
‘It really is a beautiful place, Mally. We’ve always loved it here. Since we visited on our first holiday as a couple we always said we wanted to live here eventually. And now we’ve seen this place I can’t think of anywhere I’d rather be.’
‘Come on, let’s go look at the bathroom.’ She grabbed his hand eagerly once again and pulled him to the door which led onto the landing and finally the bathroom.
They both stood open-mouthed at the large roll-top bath with its antique brass taps and telephone style shower head. The stone walls had been left exposed, giving the room an old world, rustic feel.
It was Sam’s turn to slide his arms around Mallory. ‘Mmm, I think that tub is big enough for two, honey.’ He nuzzled her neck, sending shivers tingling down her spine.
She turned in his arms and kissed him languorously. ‘I think we need to make that the first thing we try out.’ She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively, making him laugh.
Sealladh-mara Cottage had so much potential and the details really didn’t do it justice at all. It felt so much more spacious inside, rather like Doctor Who’s Tardis.
The back garden was totally overgrown, but at the end of a long path was another building – her workshop. Mallory almost ran towards it and Sam dashed after her. She shoved the stiff door open and looked inside. A wave of disappointment washed over her.
‘What is it?’ Sam asked, with a hint of concern in his voice.
‘It’s going to take a lot of work to get this place in a fit state,’ she grumbled
Placing an arm around her shoulder, he leaned close to her ear. ‘Ah, but with your vision, like you had back in the lounge, surely you can see it for what it could be?’
He was right. She had vision and determination. With the pair of them going at it together they could do it. They could make it the perfect place to run Le Petit Cadeau from. Positivity reigned supreme.
The couple reluctantly tore themselves away and handed the keys over to Mr Warriner with a promise to be in touch. Once they were alone again they went for a stroll. The pub was closed but they peered in through the windows and decided it would definitely be a cosy place to spend an evening or two at the fireside with a pint of beer or glass of wine. Continuing on, they stood on the midpoint of the stone bridge and looked out over the Atlantic Ocean.
Sam slipped his arms around Mallory’s waist and pulled her to him. She gazed up into emerald green eyes that sparkled today like she had never seen them before. She was mesmerised.
He kissed the tip of her nose. ‘So whaddya say, Miss Yorksherr? Are we going for it? We would have our favourite bridge right on the doorstep. We could walk up here with Ruby every day and look over that massive expanse of sea and it would be just like it was our own.’
Stroking a finger down his cheek and with no further thought needed, she gave her reply, ‘I say let’s do it.’
After heading back to take one more look at the outside of the cottage, they took a long drive to Glenfinnan to sit by the Loch and take in the view. The air was chilled, but they huddled together and sat on the old tree trunk that had been there for years. As the sun began to descend, they made their way back to the B and B where they were booked in for dinner, seeing as the owner had given them the option on check-in. It meant they could share a bottle of wine and relax whilst they discussed the house.
Sam tucked into his steak. ‘Hey… you okay?’ he asked.
Realising she must have been daydreaming, she lifted her gaze to his. ‘Oh sorry. I think I was back in the cottage for a moment.’ She shook her head as if to bring herself back to the present.
‘And?’
‘Well, all I can say is I never expected it to be so… so…’
He tilted his head. ‘Perfect?’
She nodded. ‘Perfect.’
*
On the morning following their viewing the all-important call was made to put their offer forward. They had both adored the cottage. They just needed to secure it, but unfortunately it was in the hands of fate… well, the estate agent and the owner to be exact.
They arrived home to Yorkshire, collected Ruby and filled Josie and Brad in on the details of their potential new home. Once they were back at Railway Terrace, Sam constantly checked his mobile for missed calls and after hours of pacing the floor, negotiating and nail biting, the call came through from Scotland.
Sam answered his phone and Mallory clung onto the hem of his shirt, anxiously waiting for Sam’s facial expression to reveal the news.
A crease of concentration furrowed his brow. ‘Ahuh… yes… okay… oh, yeah?… hmm… okay, well thanks for all your help Mr Warriner, it’s much appreciated.’ Sam hung up; his face stoic. He closed his eyes, ran his hands through his hair and let out a long breath.
Mallory’s heart sank. Her eyes welled up. The dream was evidently gone.
Sam finally spoke in a low, resigned tone. ‘Well, that’s it I guess.’
Mallory stifled the sob that was desperate to lurch from her throat. ‘I guess so.’ She slumped onto the sofa. Although she had been filled with trepidation about the whole thing initially, to know that it wasn’t happening broke her heart. There were a few moments of silence as she tried to come to terms with the news.
Sam huffed, shaking his head. ‘Yup… I am soooo not looking forward to all the packing.’
Mallory hesitated, pondering that last sentence. She looked up slowly into the face of her beloved, only to see the huge grin that had transplanted itself onto his flawless face.
She stood and whacked his arm playfully. ‘You rotten sod! You utterly mean GIT!’ She screamed as the realisation of the truth dawned on her. She flung herself into the arms of the fibber and burst into floods of warm, ecstatic tears.
*
April 2015
Packing had begun in earnest. Mallory looked around at the boxes that surrounded them both. ‘How on earth did we accumulate so much stuff? You hardly brought anything from Canada and I hardly had anything to begin with.’
‘Beats me, babe. Although, I think most of it’s yours,’ he teased. She threw a cushion at him but he caught it. ‘Want me to pack this?’
Sam pulled the loft ladder down and climbed up. ‘Oh. My. Gosh. Mallory, you thought down there was bad… you ain’t seen nothing yet, baby. Not by a long way.’
Mallory cringed. ‘Oh no. I just keep putting things in there without really thinking. I slide the Christmas decorations just inside the hatch every year but avoid going up there at all costs.’
He lowered his head through the hole in the ceiling. ‘Well, as they say, there’s no time like the present! C’mon. Time for a clear out.’
Mallory groaned at the thought. Grabbing some black rubbish sacks, she climbed the ladder and pulled herself up beside Sam.
He handed her a box, ‘What’s in here I wonder… okay, Mallory’s school stuff is what it says. Should be interesting.’ He pulled out a report card and laughed heartily.
‘What? Oh no what have you found?’ She snatched the card from his grasp. ‘…Mallory has the potential to be a very bright girl, if she would only stop daydreaming long e
nough to apply herself,’ she read in her poshest voice, mimicking Mrs Gloria Sanders, her prim and proper high school English teacher.
‘Hah! No change there, huh?’ Sam poked her in the ribs, making her scream in shock and punch him on the arm in playful retaliation. ‘We have to keep these to show our children how not to behave,’ he sniggered.
‘Cheeky,’ Mallory retorted dryly. ‘Ooh, what’s in this one?’ She opened the lid and stared inside. ‘Oh wow, these are my mum’s things.’ Mallory lifted her hand to her mouth. She placed the box between them so that Sam could see.
He reached inside and pulled something out. ‘Hey, that’s a photo of you as a toddler. So, sweet. Look at your curls!’
Mallory glanced at the old, faded image. ‘Oh, yes. My mum used to spend hours trying to tame my bird’s nest.’ She took out another and nudged Sam, holding the picture up for him to see. ‘Here’s one of me with my mum.’
‘Hmm, now I see why you ended up so darn gorgeous. She was a beautiful lady, Mally.’
‘She was… I miss her so much. I wish you could’ve met her.’
Sam pulled her to his side and kissed her hair before resting his head on hers. ‘I know, baby, me too.’
‘She would have loved you.’
‘That’s ’cause I’m so loveable.’ He smiled. ‘I’m sure she and I would’ve been great friends.’
Mallory’s eyes began to sting. ‘The thought that she won’t be here to see her grandchildren…’
‘Hey, hey, baby, don’t cry.’ He cupped her face in his hands and kissed her, his own eyes becoming glassy. ‘We’ll make sure that our babies know all about all of their grandparents and how much they loved them even though they never met.’
Mallory sniffed and wiped her eyes. ‘Yes, we will.’
They sorted through several more boxes when Mallory came across some of Sam’s. ‘Hey, how did these get up here? I thought we had dealt with all your stuff?’
