The Dream House Read Online Free
Author: Rachel Hore
friends could all come and stay. We’d be able to get this great big house.’
‘Like this one, you mean?’ Kate yawned as she waved the picture.
‘Yes, but with straighter walls. Now, I’ll make us some tea and then we’d better get to bed.’
While Simon stacked the plates in the sink and made the tea Kate sat deep in thought. It had been such a horrible day, even with the relief that her two children were asleep happy and nearly healthy upstairs. But she dreaded work tomorrow. It was the tiredness, she supposed, and the pressure everyone was under all the time. Never seeing the kids, that had to be the worst thing.
‘You’d have more energy and time for the family. Think about it,’ Simon broke in as he put the milk back in the fridge. ‘I get worried about you sometimes, darling. You don’t want another patch of the blues.’ He put two mugs of tea on the table and ruffled her hair. Then, tidy as ever, he bent to fish out the pencil from under the dresser.
‘I’m not saying no to the whole idea of moving out,’ said Kate carefully. ‘It’s just there is so much to weigh up.’
‘We need to draw up a chart of pros and cons,’ Simon said crisply, reaching for the estate agent’s envelope.
‘Not tonight we don’t,’ Kate said in a weary voice, taking the pencil and envelope out of his hand. ‘You’re not in the office now, and anyway, you’re getting way ahead of me.’
‘Well, at least we can look at some house prices when we’re down at Mother’s at the weekend,’ Simon said. ‘Do some sums.’
‘If the children are well enough to go,’ Kate said. ‘Hope so.’
Then she scribbled something under her picture, laughed at her efforts, and went to pin it up on the noticeboard. She had written
The Dream House
.
Chapter 2
Suffolk, November 2002
By Friday both the children were their usual perky selves and the Hutchinsons left Fulham for Suffolk at nine o’clock on the Saturday morning. A steady drizzle of rain followed them all the way, but by midday, when they turned off the Lowestoft road, away from the coast towards Halesworth, a pale torchbeam of sun had begun to penetrate the misty cloud.
Kate slowed right down at the speed signs by the new development of detached redbrick homes. Soon the road widened out into the centre of the village. There, two dozen cottages, some thatched, were built around a small green. In the summer, they overflowed with flowers, but now the houses looked shut up, the gardens glum and dripping with rain. Out on the far side, the fourteenth-century church within its walled graveyard rose out of the mist, then they passed the Victorian redbrick primary school, a post-office-cum-stores and two pubs. Each pub vied with the other over offers of real beer, one advertising live music on Fridays, the other home-cooked food every day except Mondays. Kate remembered her mother-in-law, Joyce, telling her the pubs were owned by two brothers. Quite an opportunity to play out old sibling rivalries, she smiled to herself, feeling the cares of the week begin to fade.
‘Muuuum, are we there yet?’ Daisy asked, as she had asked every mile for the last twenty.
‘Yes,’ said Kate joyfully, as they turned left down an unmarked lane, her spirits rising. ‘We’re there.’ She parked at the dead end, by the only building in the lane, a large thatched flint cottage with a white picket fence, a coil of smoke rising from the chimney. It was picture-postcard perfect and Kate loved it.
As she jumped out to open their doors, Kate was nearly knocked over by a barking hairy bundle of black and white, Joyce’s springer spaniel, Bobby, ecstatic to see his favourite pet humans.
Over bouncing dog and dancing children she saw Joyce walking stiffly up the garden path towards them; Simon’s mother was a tallish woman in her late sixties wearing an elegant white polo-neck and a navy skirt, a silver Charles Rennie MacIntosh pendant over the jumper and matching dangling
‘Like this one, you mean?’ Kate yawned as she waved the picture.
‘Yes, but with straighter walls. Now, I’ll make us some tea and then we’d better get to bed.’
While Simon stacked the plates in the sink and made the tea Kate sat deep in thought. It had been such a horrible day, even with the relief that her two children were asleep happy and nearly healthy upstairs. But she dreaded work tomorrow. It was the tiredness, she supposed, and the pressure everyone was under all the time. Never seeing the kids, that had to be the worst thing.
‘You’d have more energy and time for the family. Think about it,’ Simon broke in as he put the milk back in the fridge. ‘I get worried about you sometimes, darling. You don’t want another patch of the blues.’ He put two mugs of tea on the table and ruffled her hair. Then, tidy as ever, he bent to fish out the pencil from under the dresser.
‘I’m not saying no to the whole idea of moving out,’ said Kate carefully. ‘It’s just there is so much to weigh up.’
‘We need to draw up a chart of pros and cons,’ Simon said crisply, reaching for the estate agent’s envelope.
‘Not tonight we don’t,’ Kate said in a weary voice, taking the pencil and envelope out of his hand. ‘You’re not in the office now, and anyway, you’re getting way ahead of me.’
‘Well, at least we can look at some house prices when we’re down at Mother’s at the weekend,’ Simon said. ‘Do some sums.’
‘If the children are well enough to go,’ Kate said. ‘Hope so.’
Then she scribbled something under her picture, laughed at her efforts, and went to pin it up on the noticeboard. She had written
The Dream House
.
Chapter 2
Suffolk, November 2002
By Friday both the children were their usual perky selves and the Hutchinsons left Fulham for Suffolk at nine o’clock on the Saturday morning. A steady drizzle of rain followed them all the way, but by midday, when they turned off the Lowestoft road, away from the coast towards Halesworth, a pale torchbeam of sun had begun to penetrate the misty cloud.
Kate slowed right down at the speed signs by the new development of detached redbrick homes. Soon the road widened out into the centre of the village. There, two dozen cottages, some thatched, were built around a small green. In the summer, they overflowed with flowers, but now the houses looked shut up, the gardens glum and dripping with rain. Out on the far side, the fourteenth-century church within its walled graveyard rose out of the mist, then they passed the Victorian redbrick primary school, a post-office-cum-stores and two pubs. Each pub vied with the other over offers of real beer, one advertising live music on Fridays, the other home-cooked food every day except Mondays. Kate remembered her mother-in-law, Joyce, telling her the pubs were owned by two brothers. Quite an opportunity to play out old sibling rivalries, she smiled to herself, feeling the cares of the week begin to fade.
‘Muuuum, are we there yet?’ Daisy asked, as she had asked every mile for the last twenty.
‘Yes,’ said Kate joyfully, as they turned left down an unmarked lane, her spirits rising. ‘We’re there.’ She parked at the dead end, by the only building in the lane, a large thatched flint cottage with a white picket fence, a coil of smoke rising from the chimney. It was picture-postcard perfect and Kate loved it.
As she jumped out to open their doors, Kate was nearly knocked over by a barking hairy bundle of black and white, Joyce’s springer spaniel, Bobby, ecstatic to see his favourite pet humans.
Over bouncing dog and dancing children she saw Joyce walking stiffly up the garden path towards them; Simon’s mother was a tallish woman in her late sixties wearing an elegant white polo-neck and a navy skirt, a silver Charles Rennie MacIntosh pendant over the jumper and matching dangling
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