A Dream Come True

by Margaret Carr

  ‘Two at the far end away from the range.’

  ‘You keeping that thing?’

  ‘The house will stay just as it has always been with as few alterations as possible.’

  The little man’s head nodded as he scribbled away in his note book. Then he looked up grinning. ‘Mr Dominic would approve of that.’

  Cassie bristled. ‘Mr Dominic’s approval or otherwise is of no concern to me Alf.’

  ‘Of course not, Mrs, just he’s trying to do the same sort of thing next door.’

  ‘How long is all this going to take and when can you start?’

  ‘Well let me see,’ he lifted up his cap and scratched in his hair before replacing the cap with a tug. ‘If I get the lads along to do the rough while I finish helping Mr D, then I can get the essential work done by, what day is it today, with a bit of luck four weeks, if I work out the materials tonight and order them tomorrow.’

  ‘How much upheaval will all this necessitate?’

  He glanced around. ‘You got furniture coming. Well I wouldn’t go laying any carpets but not too much mess, Mrs.’

  The following morning she caught the bus into town. Her first stop was the Post Office, there was a large black telephone sat in the hall at the Vicarage but no books. She had rung BT and been told the books would be delivered within the next two days. The phone box in the village had been vandalised so at the Post Office she looked up the numbers she needed. Next, came a visit to the local garage and a guide through second hand cars. A small yellow Citroën appealed and after arranging to have it inspected by an AA mechanic, she left.

  A call at the council offices revealed no outward changes to the church apart from a swimming pool in what used to be the old church hall. The yard that had separated the church from the hall was to be covered, thus creating more living space.

  ‘That’s a lot of space for just one man,’ she commented to the girl showing her the plans.

  The girl giggled. ‘One man, he has five children, everyone knows that.’

  Cassie groaned inwardly, not another fan.

  ‘Then of course he will need a soundproof area for his music.’

  ‘How on earth does his poor wife put up with it all?’

  ‘Oh he doesn’t have a wife.’

  ‘He’s a widower?’

  ‘No, he’s single,’ she said with a sigh.

  Cassie decided not to think about that piece of information and with a quick goodbye left the building. On the bus going home however she couldn’t stop her mind wandering back to her irresponsible neighbour. How could a man, have five children and no wife, very easily these days she supposed. The life these pop stars led anything was possible.

  Once home Cassie put a call through to the AA and arranged to have someone call at the garage and inspect the car she had chosen, then she rang a local driving school and booked several lessons.

  Four calls to interior decorators resulted in waiting lists of many months ahead. Well she could do nothing about that for the present, she decided. Next on her agenda was the garden.

  There used to be a nursery garden on the outskirts of the village at one time and she wondered if it still existed. While shopping in the high street she asked about the nursery and discovered there was now a housing estate where the gardens had once been.

  Feeling down at this news she noticed across the village green a general store with brooms, baskets and boxes outside on the pavement. Henderson’s had always been a store of great excitement to children years ago, when like Aladdin’s Cave it sold everything from fire screens to bicycles and crockery to toy soldiers.

  Bending down over the boxes she now saw contained autumn flowering plants she failed to notice the approach of her neighbour.

  ‘I’m going over to Benton Gardens later if you would like a lift.’

  Startled, Cassie shot upright he was standing right behind her, tall and dark with the most amazing green eyes she had ever seen.

  ‘I’ve finished sawing the tree and have ordered some more stone to replace the broken pieces. That’s what I’m going over to collect. They have a good stock of plants, are you looking for anything in particular?’

  Yes, Cassie thought, you could see how women would flock to him. He was a real charmer.

  ‘No, thank you.’ Then as he turned away she called, ‘I don’t suppose Alf does decorating as well.’

  He looked over his shoulder. ‘He does most things, for nearly anyone,’ he said before walking off.

  Cassie stuck her tongue out at his retreating back before hurriedly glancing around to make sure no-one had seen her. She hadn’t seen any children it was probably all hype by agents and media to puff up his sexy image. Disgusted with her thoughts she wiped them from her mind.

  The delivery of the Citroën was a great delight to Cassie who decided to name her Daffodil because of her colour. Climbing inside she familiarised herself with all the knobs and pedals and was confident that it would take only a few lessons and she would be free to travel where she would.

  The dirty white van drew up behind the Citroën the following day and Alf and a tall gangly youth climbed out. They walked around the car inspecting it here and there before giving it their approval. Cassie came to meet them from the corner of the house where she had been trimming some ivy.

  ‘Nice little number that,’ Alf offered. ‘Get it local did you?’

  ‘Yes, at the garage in town.’

  ‘Had it looked over, I hope.’

  ‘Yes thank you, by the AA.’

  ‘Ah yes, that’s good. Would cost you for them, should have let me know, I’d have done it for you.’

  Cassie didn’t know whether to laugh or cry, was there anything this little man didn’t do. She knew exactly what was coming next and held her breath.

  ‘Mr D said you needed some decorating done.’

  She closed her eyes for a second to control herself. ‘That’s right.’

  ‘Well old Mrs Thwaites has a leaky sink and I promised to help Bill Fenwick with his roof, but we could measure up today and Jack here will bring you round some pattern books tonight, that right lad?’

  ‘Aye, Uncle Alf.’

  They started the plumbing earlier than expected and Cassie had dragged the rocking chair out into the late autumn sunshine. Wallpaper pattern books and paint cards lay all around her as she closed her eyes and visualised what the house would look like when it was finished. It had been a frustrating few weeks managing with bare floorboards and only essential necessities around her, but soon she would be able to relax and enjoy her dream.

  CHAPTER THREE

  It was with a prickly sensation that she knew she was no longer alone and her eyes flew open. A small inquisitive face filled her vision.

  ‘I thought you were dead.’ And the lower lip quivered.

  Cassie sat upright. ‘No, I’m not dead,’ she spoke gently, ‘who are you?’

  ‘My name’s Ruthie. My mammy is dead.’

  ‘Well I’m very sorry to hear that. Who looks after you now?’

  ‘Mae Choo. Do you live here?’

  ‘Yes, I do,’ Cassie said with a smile.

  ‘Do you have any children?’

  ‘No I’m afraid I don’t.’

  ‘I can come and live with you if you’re lonely.’

  Before Cassie could form a reply a slim Eurasian girl came through the gate from the church. ‘Please I apologise for your disturbance. Mr Dominic will be blocking in the gateway soon. Ruthie, come along.’

  This was said without the glimmer of a smile and Cassie was made to feel as though she had already complained at the child’s presence. ‘She didn’t disturb me really. Do you work for Mr Dominic?’

  This question received only a smile and a nod of the head as Mae took hold of Ruthie’s hand and led her away. Cassie watched them cross to the gate and disappear down the side of the church. Well that didn’t bode well for good relations, she thought. Perhaps it was just as well the man intended to block up the gat
e. But she couldn’t help sighing at the thought of not talking to Ruthie again.

  The fireplaces gleamed, their grates set and ready to light at a moment’s notice. Radiators were all in place and a hot towel rail offered warmth from alongside a claw foot bath. Two of Alf’s nephews were stripping wallpaper and preparing wood. The mosaic tiles in the hall had been scoured and sealed by Cassie and now glowed with warm colour.

  She sat in the window seat in the lounge and stared out over the rain soaked garden, a list of jobs lay in her lap, most of the work had been crossed out, and she wondered what she would do when it was finished. Her dream had been of owning the house and taking it back to its former glory. Learning to drive a car would give her independence and a pet for company. She hadn’t looked much beyond that.

  The rain stopped and she decided to walk down to the village. Henderson’s, the doctor’s surgery and the paper shop lay on the far side of the green, while on the main road through the village lay a small supermarket, butchers, bakers/café and a boutique. The village also boasted four guest houses and two public houses. The pubs were the ‘Rose and Crown’, and the ‘Green Man’.

  The ‘Rose and Crown’ had a three star restaurant, held a reading group once a month, the camera club every two weeks and a Rotary meeting every other Tuesday. The ‘Green Man’ on the other hand had a darts team, held bingo on a Wednesday night and a quiz on Fridays. All this information had been passed to Cassie while in the baker’s buying buns for her workers.

  So she was slightly surprised to see Marc Dominic coming out of the ‘Green Man’ as she left the shop, she would have thought the ‘Rose and Crown’ more fitting for a pop star. When he crossed the road to come alongside her she was slightly taken aback.

  ‘I believe you had a visit from Ruthie a while back. She’s a very inquisitive child. She never stops talking about the lady who lives by herself.’

  ‘She’s a lovely girl. Your helper inferred you would be blocking up the gateway. I’d rather you didn’t, I can easily put a lock on it if you are worried about the children’s security.’

  He laughed. ‘It was for your privacy as much as anything.’ His face straightened again and a small frown drew down his brows. ‘Mae, while a great help to me, is my daughter, not a paid helper.’

  Cassie tripped on the kerb and his hand came out automatically to steady her. She gave him a half smile as she found her footing.

  ‘I see you have a car now.’

  ‘Yes, I’m learning to drive. My instructor says I should be ready to take my test shortly.’

  ‘You should get out and practice, its quiet enough around here and it helps you gain confidence.’

  ‘You can’t drive by yourself,’ she said, as they made their way back to the vicarage. ‘You have to have a driver in with you.’

  ‘Well I’m sure …’

  ‘Oh please, not Alf again.’

  He gave a pleasant chuckle. ‘What I was about to say was I could spare you the odd half hour if you’d like.’

  Cassie was struck dumb by his offer and could only mutter a quick ‘thank you’ before leaving him at the front of the church and hurrying round to the entrance of the vicarage. What have I done, she asked herself as she hung her coat over the newel post.

  ‘Tea, Mrs,’ the oldest of Alf’s nephews called from the kitchen. Raising her eyes heavenward Cassie picked up the bag of buns and headed down the hall.

  ‘What about the back room, Mrs?’ Our Jack, the youngest of Alf’s nephews, meant the library. ‘Do you want them shelves left or are they to come down?’

  The other nephew nudged him. ‘It’s on the plan, they’re staying, isn’t that right, Mrs?’

  Cassie was doling out buns and decided that the ‘Mrs’ was a gene thing, she might even get to miss it after they were finished.

  The fallen tree in the back garden was all sawn up and her neighbour had halved the logs between them. Now, she noticed as she washed through the cups in the sink, the gap in the wall was finished also and everything was back as it should be.

  The telephone rang at half-past two the following afternoon. Cassie had forgotten all about the offered drive so was taken aback when Marc Dominic spoke.

  ‘If you’ve recovered from lunch I have a spare half hour if you still want to go out.’

  On the point of thinking up some lame excuse she found herself agreeing to join him. She replaced the phone, while calling herself all the names she could think of and grabbing a jacket flung it on. Taking the keys from their hook by the kitchen door she saw her hands were shaking. This wouldn’t do, she would have to get a grip, still talking herself down she went out to the car.

  He was standing by the bonnet of the Citroën. His hair hung over the collar of the roll necked sweater and work weary jeans clad his long legs. ‘I didn’t dress for the occasion,’ he said with a twist to the corner of his mouth.

  She unlocked the car and they climbed in. Momentary panic cleared everything from her head. They sat silent and still, nothing happened. Then Marc slid round in his seat, back against the door and looked across at her. Take it easy, it’ll pass.’

  Taking a deep breath Cassie stuck out her chin and pushed the key into the ignition. The drive went well and Cassie was smiling as she turned back in through the vicarage gates.

  ‘Alf tells me the work on your house is progressing well and that you have kept as much to the old style of the place as possible. This is what I’m trying to do next door. As a church I want to keep all the stained glass and beautiful carving and stone work while making it safe and comfortable for the children who have a variety of needs and of course my own. I would still like to show you around sometime and hear your thoughts on what we are doing.’

  She felt pressurised into inviting him to look around her own home and for some reason did not want that he should. ‘Thank you. I’d like that, but for now I must get back to the workmen and see what they are up to.’

  ‘Yes of course,’ she thought he sounded disappointed, ‘we’ll do this again.’ He climbed out of the car and headed across to the gate in the wall.

  Cassie watched him go then called after him, ‘Thank you for your time.’

  He lifted a casual hand in acknowledgement and kept walking.

  Cassie locked the car and turned into the house.

  The decorating was finished, the floor coverings had arrived, rugs downstairs on newly polished floors and fitted carpets in the bedrooms. Now she only awaited the arrival of her furniture. On Thursday morning she woke to the rattle of rain on her window. By the look of the flooding around the back door and the bog of a garden at the front it had been throwing it down all night. This didn’t bode well for the delivery van and the safe handling of her furniture. Laying plastic and dust sheets over exposed flooring and carpets she crossed her fingers there wouldn’t be too much of a mess.

  The morning passed quickly and she ate lunch in the kitchen. By two o’clock she was beginning to wonder where they were. By four she was angry and on the phone to the removal people. She was kept waiting while they checked up for her, then to her astonishment she was told the furniture had been delivered.

  An argument ensued that ended with Cassie slamming down the receiver. Her furniture had been delivered next door. Of all the stupid, Cassie fumed, then stopped short as a new thought struck her. What were they thinking of next door to allow such a thing to happen. Someone must have let the removal men in, didn’t they realise it wasn’t their stuff. Where on earth was the silly man when this was happening?

  Donning coat and hat she pulled on her boots and headed out into the still pouring rain. It was getting late now and the heavy sky drew on an early evening, as Cassie squelched across the grass towards the wicket gate. The gate was locked with a bright new chain and lock that would have kept the prisoners of Dartmoor secure.

  Groaning under her breath she turned down the drive, on to the road then around to the church. By now the rain was running off her coat hem and soaking the trous
ers around her knees.

  She climbed the steps to the church door where she looked for something to pull or push. Nothing typical of the man. Now what? There was no shelter and she was more uncomfortable by the minute. On impulse she reached out and twisted the large iron ring of a handle. The sneck lifted and the door swung quietly open.

  Peering inside she first coughed then knocked. There was no reply the place was as silent as the grave. Venturing further inside she called out. Still no reply. She was in a vestibule screened off from the body of the church by beautiful panelling and stained glass.

  Opening the double doors she was faced by a magnificent staircase leading up the centre of the room where once she had knelt and prayed. There were rooms to the right and left of this staircase and behind it the door that had once led to the Sunday School. Unable to stop herself Cassie moved towards this door.

  The door led into a large kitchen cum family room with a conservatory where once the organ pipes had stood. The conservatory was large and housed all kinds of comfortable seating, tables covered in jig-saws, colouring books and magazines. There were boxes of toys and shelves of books. Well, Cassie thought, the children didn’t seem to want for anything, except perhaps a mother.

  A slight noise had her swing round in the doorway to the kitchen stood the girl Mae. ‘Can I help you?’ There was neither disapproval nor friendliness in her tone.

  ‘I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be here, but there was no answer to my knock and I did call out.’ She felt decidedly uncomfortable under the girl’s calm stare. ‘The thing is the removal people delivered my furniture here instead of next door. Is, um, your father here?’

  Stupid question, she berated herself, if he was he would be facing her and not this child.

  ‘Marc will be down directly. Your furniture is stored in one of the front rooms.’ With that she turned and left Cassie standing stunned in the entrance to the conservatory.

  Gathering herself together she moved on into the kitchen cum family room and sat down in the nearest chair. And this was where Marc found her. ‘Well this is nice you’ve come to have a look round the place good.’