Jan laughed. ‘It wasn’t that far, only ten or so kilometres.’
Once they’d crossed the reservoir, the roads became progressively smaller until they finally turned onto a dirt track, along which the car bumped for a few minutes before the path petered out in what seemed like the middle of nowhere.
‘Here we are,’ said Michaela, jumping out of the car before Jan had even switched off the engine. ‘Ourchataon the lake. Come see.’
By the time Leo and Anna had unfolded themselves from the back of the car, she was scrambling up a small grassy bank on their right. At the top she stopped and turned. ‘Come on,’ she called.
Leo paused. ‘Do you want a hand?’ he asked Jan.
The other man shook his head. ‘In a minute. Go take a look. I’ve seen it before.’ His indulgent smile as he watched Michaela disappear gave Anna a small pang of envy. ‘This really is her favourite place. We’re so excited that it’s ours.’ Although his words were quietly spoken, Anna knew they expressed the couple’s deep feelings for the place.
‘Come on, then,’ said Leo, reaching for Anna’s hand to help her up the bank. When they crested the small slope, the land flattened out, leading down to the lake.
‘Oh,’ said Anna.
‘Wow. What a spot.’
The pretty wooden cabin sat a few metres from the water’s edge, the tall apex of its roof against the backdrop of brilliant blue sky reflected in the flat sheen of the water. Apart from the birdsong, the distant splashes of ducks in the reeds and the breeze whispering through the leaves in the trees around them, there wasn’t a sound.
Michaela simply sighed and clasped her hands to her chest, looking up at the house. ‘And it’s all ours.’ Her eyes brimmed with tears and Jan, who’d caught up with them, put an arm around her shoulders to give her a hug.
‘It’s all good.’ She brushed at her eyes. ‘They are happy tears. I’m so glad to be here and to be able to share it with friends.’
The house had two storeys and was much larger than Anna had expected. Hadn’t Michaela said Jan’s uncle’s family had built it themselves? The lower walls were built of rough-hewn stones, the upper walls clad in wood. As she came closer she could see that some things needed a bit of TLC. Despite this, the house was a great design. What caught Anna’s attention most was the upper-floor window nestled in the high inverted V of the roof, with its large balcony and what she could bet was a prime view over the water.
‘It’s gorgeous,’ Anna told Michaela, who beamed with quiet pride, her eyes still glistening with tears.
‘Yes, there is a lot to do but the structure is good. Come inside and see.’
She skipped up the steps, unlocked the door and threw it open with an excited giggle. Anna followed more slowly, taking in her surroundings. Through the trees she could make out a couple of neighbouring structures but at a far enough distance to offer privacy.
The front door opened into a narrow corridor with three doors off to the left and three to the right. At the end of the corridor was a ladder that went up through a large square hatch.
Michaela opened the first door on the left and Anna stepped in. It reminded her of an old people’s home with its row of high-backed armchairs facing the grime-streaked windows. Despite the big windows it felt dark and cramped and not particularly inviting.
‘We spend most of our time outside in the summer,’ explained Michaela as if reading her mind, and walked on to the next room. ‘This is the kitchen,’ she said, pulling a face, and Anna could see why.
The dark area beyond was tiny with a set of very dated marbled Formica-fronted units taking up a small portion of the back wall, two up and two down, sandwiching a tiny metal sink and a rust-spotted stove hooked up to a large gas cylinder. A rack holding several plates clung to the ugly cement block wall. It sagged in the middle, a couple of its spindles missing, like gapped teeth, and looked in danger of imminent collapse onto the square wood-veneered table beneath it. A thin, weak stream of daylight struggled through a tiny, dusty window, on the opposite wall, that looked out on the trees at the side of the house.
‘I know. It’s very ugly. It’s going to be a lot of work to make it beautiful,’ said Michaela with a forlorn sigh. ‘So many weekends.’
Anna studied the sad little kitchen, her eyes zeroing in on the rotting floor and noting the old-fashioned wood panelling on the walls. Despite the dated fittings and decaying fabric, her brain ticked away, already thinking of fixes that she’d seen thanks to her obsession with Instagram home improvements.
‘What would you do?’ asked Michaela.
‘Me?’
‘Yes. If this was yours, what would you do?’
Anna took a considering breath. There was so much potential here.
‘I’d take up the floor.’ With one foot she tapped the boards, which had wide drafty gaps. ‘Put new boards down. Sand and polish them.’
Michaela clasped her hands together. ‘That sounds good.’
‘And I’d remove that wall and knock through to the front room with the view. Make it a kitchen you live in.’
‘Yes!’
