‘No. He’d like me better if I was thinner and more sophisticated. I’ve been on a diet. I’m hoping my dress will have to be taken in when I next go for a fitting.’ She paused. ‘Once a month, he weighs me.’
Hattie’s mouth went dry. The affair was one thing, but was this lovely young woman a victim of coercive control? If it wasn’t that, it was something very similar.‘I think you’ve got a wonderful figure.’ She paused, unsure what to say next. She was saved by their turning coming into view.
‘The house is just up here.’
As Hattie negotiated the narrow lane to the house she wondered if she should confide in Fiona’s mother and leave it up to her to separate her daughter from Lance. What would she do if she was only Fiona’s friend and not her house hunter? Hattie very rarely mentioned her visions but without doing that, and risking sounding completely bonkers, what could she say?
‘How many bridesmaids are you having?’ Hattie asked. ‘I’m sure you’ve told me.’
‘Just little cousins and things, so six.’
‘No adult ones?’
‘No. Lance isn’t that keen on my friends. We can be quite silly when we get together.’
Hattie forced a laugh. ‘I bet you had a hilarious hen do. Did you go abroad?’
‘I decided against having a big affair. Mummy asked a group of my oldest girlfriends round and we had cake and Prosecco at her house. It was fun.’
Hattie tried to ignore the little sigh that followed this, exclaiming instead, ‘We’re here! Now, I know it’s not exactly what you asked for but it’s good to challenge yourselves sometimes.’ She got out of the car.
‘Like the “mystery house” onEscape to the Country?’ asked Fiona, following Hattie to the front door. ‘That’s always the best one, isn’t it? Oh, can we take a picture of the front and send it to Lance?’
‘Let’s do that later. There might be a better opportunity for a good picture. We’ll get you in it too.’
Fiona laughed merrily. ‘As if! I’ve got no make-up on!’
Hattie bit her tongue on the question of whether Fiona got up before Lance so she could put on subtle make-up and then get back into bed. She had a horrible feeling the answer would be yes.
‘We’ll go in the back door,’ said Hattie. ‘In through the kitchen. You might need to use your imagination as this kitchen hasn’t had anything done to it. But the Belfast sink is original and the range still works, although it might be tricky to cook on.’
Fiona didn’t speak. Hattie watched as the young woman took in the tall mantelpiece over the range where the current owner had displayed a pair of Staffordshire dogs. Next to the dogs was a spill jar, flat-backed, depicting a shepherdess and a rather squashed lamb. A jam jar with marigolds in it took up the rest of the space.
There was one deep windowsill behind the sink, with a collection of dusty succulents, several empty stoneware storage jars, and old pots that once contained marmalade, potted meat or Stilton cheese. There was a cupboard, old but attractive, and a small dresser, full of decorative plates and the detritus of life stuck into jugs and mugs that hung from hooks and filled the shelves in front of the plates.
As well as the period charm and quaintness, there was a good cooker to supplement the range, and a dishwasher.
‘I love this,’ said Fiona with a sigh. ‘It’s got all the things I like. But Lance would say it’s too small and cluttered.’
‘The sitting room is a bit bigger, but I’m afraid there’s no separate dining room, which I know Lance wanted.’
‘It’s lovely!’ said Fiona on seeing the sitting room. ‘It’s a good size, and there’s the dining table so we could still entertain formally.’
Hattie could see how much Fiona loved the house. ‘Why don’t you pop upstairs. There are four bedrooms. Not enormous, but big enough. Two bathrooms…’
‘What I love about this house,’ said Fiona a little later, ‘is that it’s full of charm and all the things I love but has the mod cons we all need. I think it’s so clever that they’ve fitted the washing machine and dryer upstairs. It’s where you take your clothes off, after all. Why do we carry them downstairs and then up again when they’re clean?’
They had explored the cottage garden, which was slightly on the steep side but offered amazing views, when Hattie said, ‘Which bit shall we take a photo of for Lance? I think these views would be great. If you put in bifold doors you’d have this view from your sitting room and your kitchen.’
Fiona shook her head. ‘I don’t think Lance would like this house. It’s too small for him. He likes a bit of grandeur and he has his heart set on a sweeping drive.’ Fiona laughed although Hattie sensed she didn’t really feel it was funny.
‘It’s going for quite a lot less than your top budget. There’d be change to spend on alterations.’
Fiona shook her head. ‘I don’t think this house should be altered. It’s perfect as it is.’
There was a lot Hattie would have liked to add to that statement but she realised she’d have to tread carefully with Fiona if she were going to help her see Lance for what he really was.
Hattie’s phone rang as she drove back home. It was her sister.
