Nineteen
Lara and Jenny spent the entire day in the nearby town of Brighton. It was a thirty-minute drive along the coast and they had the car windows open the whole way there, and back again.
They left Brighton in the early evening, when most of the shops had finally closed, but they stopped off on the way home at a pub called The Cuckmere Inn, so eventually returned to the cottage around nine-thirty.
Lara had asked Roger to ask Ula if she would feed Nicodemus at lunchtime, when Ula arrived, and again just before she and Greg left. She knew Ula would, but Lara still felt a little guilty when she got home, so she gave Nicodemus some more fresh chicken as a treat.
‘I’m shattered,’ Jenny said, collapsing on to the sofa with a large glass of wine.
‘Me too,’ said Lara dropping down next to her. ‘But I’m pleased with everything I bought.’
She had purchased lamps, curtains, cushions, more duvet cover sets, more towels, tea towels, oven gloves, wooden spoons, pots and pans, and so much more.
Some of it was in the car, which they would leave there until the morning. No point in trying to get it out in the pitch black. The outdoor lights near the front door might light up the path, but there were no street lights in Old Oak Lane so that was in darkness.
‘Are you going to buy a TV?’ Jenny asked, staring blankly at the wall and laughing.
‘At some point, yes. But if I buy one now, I might be tempted to sit and watch it if the weather turns, instead of getting on with the painting and decorating.’
‘When did you become so sensible?’
‘Shortly after I bought a cottage on an auction site without seeing it in real life.’
‘Good point. When are you buying your new kitchen?’
‘After the oven arrives next week. I need to be sure everything is measured correctly.’
‘Why not get one of those kitchen designer people at the stores to come and do all that? I know you like doing things yourself and would rather not depend on others, but is it really worth all the faff when it’s so simple to pay someone else? You can afford it, after all. Better to enjoy your time here decorating and furnishing the rest of the rooms. Leave the kitchen to the big boys.’
Lara thought about that for a while. Jenny had a point. There were lots of other things she could be getting on with.
‘I’ll do that,’ she said, clinking her glass against Jenny’s in a cheers.
‘Shall we go to the kitchen centre we saw today, tomorrow morning?’ Jenny suggested.
‘I thought you came to see the village?’
‘I came to see you. Besides, I like shopping. I can come and visit again. Maybe once the posh new kitchen is in.’ She grinned.
‘You’re welcome to visit whenever you want.’
They were both in bed by ten and up and out again by nine-thirty. This time to the kitchen showroom where Lara ordered her dream kitchen.
‘You do know this is for your holiday cottage, don’t you?’ Jenny reminded her.
‘Yes. But it’s lovely to buy the cottage something as beautiful as this light blue glossy handleless kitchen and those gorgeous white granite worktops.’
‘I’m sure it’ll look even more divine once Nicodemus has jumped all over it with his muddy paws.’
They had lunch at another country pub, and afternoon tea at the cottage, with cream cakes and sandwiches they had bought at M&S.
Jenny left just before six that evening, and Lara felt lonely the minute her best friend had gone.
At least Lara hadn’t thought about Jasper all weekend.
Other than when she had glanced over at Tom’s cottage on Friday evening, and once on Saturday morning. And only once on Saturday evening. Twice on Sunday morning, and once while she waited for the kettle to boil for afternoon tea.
Now, without Jenny to distract her, she sat in her kitchen, nursing a glass of wine, on one of the dining chairs from the sitting room and stared at the lights shining brightly in Tom Bright’s cottage, wondering what Tom and his grandson were doing.
Angry with herself for being such a fool, she made herself a promise not to think of Jasper, or to look at Tom’s cottage, and to keep herself so busy that she didn’t have time to think of anything other than painting and decorating her cottage.
Or maybe she could make time for some sketching. She should do more sketches for pleasure, rather than the ones she did for work. Yes. She would do that. She had brought some sketchpads, pencils, and inks. She could sketch the gardens, the sheep, the cliffs, the views, her cottage. All sorts of things.
In fact, she would start right now.
