The Dream House Read Online Free Page A

earrings showing beneath her neat short silvered hair.
    Joyce put her arm round Simon, who had gone to open the car boot, and kissed him.
    He looks like a little boy, putting up with being kissed, thought Kate, not for the first time. As she hugged Joyce, she felt a pang that she could never hug her own mother like this, for Barbara Carter shied away from demonstrations of affection. Even when she had held Daisy and Sam as babies, it had been as though she was worried about dropping them.
    ‘A good journey? All well?’ asked Joyce anxiously. Kate nodded, and Joyce turned to open her arms to Daisy and Sam, who were shoving at each other and Bobby to get to Granny first. ‘Darlings, I’ve got you both,’ she cried, encircling one with each arm and hugging them to her.
    ‘Granny! We’ve brang you some chocolates. Can I have one now?’ gabbled Sam.
    ‘How lovely. Come on in. Lunch is on the table and after that you can have a chocolate, darling. No, Simon, leave unpacking till later, won’t you, dear? I’m sure you’re tired and the soup is ready.’
    ‘It won’t take a moment, Mother, don’t fuss.’
    ‘But it’s raining again and you’re not wearing a coat.’ Indeed, it was starting to pour as Kate hurried the children inside while Simon set about bringing in the bags, a familiar stubborn set to his face. It was strange how Joyce and Simon slipped back into what must be the old childhood pattern – Joyce mollycoddling Simon and Simon sullenly going his own way.
    ‘I’ll get you an umbrella, then,’ she heard Joyce say from the path. ‘Do mind that puddle.’
    Kate let them get on with it and, while the children rushed upstairs to inspect every corner, she wandered across the hall into the large living room.
    Paradise Cottage was just the place for a cosy winter weekend away. The living room was crowded with big comfortable chintz armchairs around a roaring log fire. The air smelled of applewood smoke and lavender polish, and Kate sat for a moment looking at the old beams, the china dogs on the mantelpiece and the prints and photographs on the walls. She could hear the children’s footsteps overhead and the slow tocking of the grandmother clock against the wall. Home, she thought, and Bobby, throwing himself onto the hearthrug in a mock show of exhaustion, clearly thought so, too.
    Already, their dark house in Fulham, too near the main road, the long squealing grind of lorries braking, the grim lines of smoke-coughing cars, the dirty rain that tasted of iron and soot, her grey office with the flickering fluorescent light, all seemed to be rushing away into oblivion . . . A log shifted, sighing in the fireplace, sending up a spray of sparks.
    ‘I could live somewhere like this and be myself,’ Kate whispered to Bobby, who wagged his tail, but as soon as she’d made this statement the doubts started to rush in. How could you possibly know what it felt like, actually to
live
where you went on holiday? What would she truly miss most about city life? Her work had to come top of the list. It was what she did – it helped define her. Just how much would she miss it, if she didn’t have it any more? The thoughts whirled round and round in her head.
    Simon is right: we need a list of pros and cons, Kate thought as Joyce put her head round the door to call her in for lunch.
    ‘We’ve never done Norwich, have we?’ said Simon, cheerful over post-lunch coffee. ‘It’s a bit wet for the beach or walks today, kids. Look, it’s only half-past one. Why don’t we zip up in the car for a couple of hours? What do you think, Mother?’
    ‘There’s a castle,’ Joyce said to the reluctant children as she passed round the chocolates. ‘And a big market.’
    ‘I’ll come if you buy me a treat,’ said Sam, then seeing Granny put on her ‘cross face’ and withdraw the chocolate box from his outstretched hand, he said, ‘OK, I’ll come.’
    Parking was a nightmare in Norwich on a Saturday so close to