Sample

Prologue

When she thought it was over little did she realise it was just the beginning, but it would be sometime before she would know this.

Standing behind her desk, she stood up as she watched Jean approach her. But Sally would never know what made her stand that day and when asked later why she did stand up, she will not remember, but she will remember taking the envelope.

Carrying a handful of white envelopes, Jean entered the office. The office wasn’t particularly large, but then you couldn’t describe it as small either, but it was well lit and modern.
        The four people who shared the space had little to complain about, though they did. If it wasn’t the weather then it was someone or something. But today, they didn’t moan, in fact nobody spoke at all, they’d far too much to think and worry about.

The rumours that had been racing around the company had reached their ears and in the last two days they had exhausted all the possibilities whether they were fact or fiction. As it turned out, the rumours were fact and Jean’s appearance in their office that morning was proof. Jean’s job was about as unpleasant as it could get at this moment.

Plucking an envelope from the pile, Jean handed the first one to Sally who was standing behind her desk. Jean didn’t speak, but she nodded at Sally’s response of thank you. It was simply a response, not words of gratitude, because the letter she had been given was to change her life forever.

Sally was the first to get her letter, maybe because her desk was the nearest to the door, but the other three who shared the office, also received an envelope from Jean. All silently took their letter as it was handed to them. Only Sally had said thank you.

They all knew what the letter was about. It was the confirmation that everything was about to change and that is what stilled the conversation in the office that morning.

As Jean walked out of the office, in pursuit of her next victims, Sally opened her envelope. She pulled out the sheaf of paper, read it, folded it, placed it back in the envelope and looked around the office. The effect on each person was different, Kelly was smiling; Dave’s brow was furrowed with worry, Mike shrugged his shoulders as he pushed the unevenly folded letter, minus the envelope, into his jacket pocket, and without realising it, she had tears trickling down her face. This was the four office members’ reaction to being made redundant. In just a few weeks time, not only would they be out of work, but the entire company would no longer exist.

At this moment in time only Kelly smiled, she was looking ahead, she had plans and the letter was going to help her make them come true. The other three, were looking back and in a year’s time, they would still be looking back, but with a very different attitude to today. None of them realised just how much the letter in the white envelope would change their lives.

 

Chapter ONE

With a bundle of Estate Agent’s leaflets in her hand, Sally struggled with her handbag as she tried to wrestle out her mobile phone.
        The ringing noise was now deafening.
        It was only when all the papers she was clutching fell to the floor that the phone released itself from the pocket in her handbag.
        Relieved to have grabbed the phone before the caller had given up, she thankfully answered.
        ‘Yes!
        Oh, sorry Mrs Leonard, yes, of course I am, no I am definitely coming this morning. Right, yes thank you.’
        Snapping shut her mobile phone Sally wondered why she’d made such an effort to answer the call as she looked down at the sea of papers scattered all over her Wilton carpet.
        With a heavy sigh she bent down and began the task of collecting up all the property details, which had managed to fly everywhere.
        The order she had earlier placed them in was now nothing more than a muddle.
        She had five properties to see and the first one was Magnolia House.
        Gathering up the property details she shuffled them back into some semblance of order, not the best start to her first day of viewing, she mused as she held tightly onto the now crumpled documents.  
        Even the call that caused the papers to cascade everywhere was not a good omen.
        The owner of Magnolia House, Mrs Leonard was checking her intentions to view. Although her appointment was not until later that morning, Mrs Leonard had rang to check that she was going to turn up, before adding, that if she was genuinely interested then she’d be early, hence why she’d rang her.
        Without even viewing the place, she was having doubts about the suitability of the property, but she quickly dismissed these thoughts as ridiculous.
        Now with the papers firmly back under her control, her bag dangling off of her left shoulder and with keys in hand, Sally pulled the front door closed behind her and walked the few steps to her car parked in the driveway.

Three months ago she’d been made redundant; the shock was enormous.   
        She can’t remember much of the day, even now it was still a blur. Though she can remember the startling moment when she got the letter and at some point later in the day being told that she would never be able to work there again.
        The company was closing, end of story.
        In all the years she’d worked there, she’d never seriously thought of leaving the company, every now and then she’d tell herself to look around, but she’d never done a thing about it. After all, the job was satisfying enough, the money was acceptable, even the holiday entitlement wasn’t bad.
        So why rock the boat?
        But the day the letters were handed out, her boat had not only been rocked, it had been overturned!
        It was only later when her senses returned that she realised the life ring that had been thrown her way was more than a saviour. She saw that twenty years of loyal service had paid off.
        The cheque that she’d been given was a sizeable amount.
        What they could do with that money, she could only dare to dream.                         

Then just four weeks after losing her job, Steve, her husband, came home and announced that his job was being transferred, to of all places, India.
        He could go and join the new office or take his redundancy.
        He had one week to decide.
        He took the cheque.
        Now with money in the bank and no jobs, things had to change and this time it was down to them to make the changes.
        The future was going to be different and she was excited. 

Sitting in her car, almost immobilised by her seat belt, Sally checked the address again on the viewing sheet given to her by the agent. Satisfied that she knew the best route, she put her car into reverse gear and backed out of the drive.
        Steve had said he would try and meet her there, but with his first interview since being made redundant, she was very likely viewing the property on her own. Oddly he hadn’t applied for this job, but a friend had put his name forward at the company he worked for and now he had an interview: Strange how things go, she mused, as she checked her rear view mirror before indicating right.
        Once they’d got over the shock of losing their jobs, they realised that they were free.
        Free to do what ever they wanted to do.
        Of course they could sit down and wallow in the unfairness of it all, blaming everyone for making a mess of the company or take the opportunity to use the redundancy money to do something different.
        Change was not something they’d done much of, but looking ahead they saw an opportunity to do something different. But what could they do? That was the question.
        Not having to rush out of the house at an early hour any more, gave them the opportunity to watch morning TV. This was an eye opener in more ways than one, and looking into what other people did with their lives was strangely fascinating. Some of the things people did were so unbelievable that the cringe factor was so high it was off the scale; whilst others had lives that were surprisingly inspiring. And it was the inspiration of a couple who’d been in similar circumstances to theirs a few years ago who now had a thriving holiday business that gave them the idea.
        They’d even taken the time to go on to the Internet and look up what their business was about. After reading all the details, Steve had rung them and from the call they’d been invited to go and meet Jean and Des Meadows. This they had done.
        It was after meeting with the Meadows’ that had clinched it for Sally. They’d talked about the possibility of running a Bed and Breakfast and now she felt it was not only a possibility, but a reality. They were hard working people and she felt confident they could make a go of it. And just as they had decided to do some looking around, Steve was asked to go for an interview.

As Sally entered the village, the first thing she saw was the village pub conveniently situated next to the church. The pub advertised traditional ales, quality wine and food to compliment the bar. She smiled. It was a good sign, food on the doorstep, so to speak, for a Bed and Breakfast.
        Passing a row of terraced cottages, she saw the Magnolia tree that sat to the south side of the house she was about to view: It was the tree that gave the house its name. She also noted that Steve’s car was not there, it seemed that she was likely to be on her own.
        Pulling her car over in front of the house, she killed the engine. Reaching over to the back seat she picked up the estate agent’s details, but left the other property papers behind. Armed with the information about her fist view, she stepped out of the car. After locking her door she walked the few steps and stood in front of the entrance gate.
        She looked firstly at the picture on the detail sheet and could see that it had been taken on a sunny day, and then at the house on the other side of the gate.
        She was impressed; the photograph looked like the house. Who ever had taken it had not tried any fancy angles that could distort the true image. She smiled, despite her earlier reservations after the phone call from Mrs Leonard she liked what she’d seen so far; though she was surprised that there were no internal shots. Never mind, she told herself she was about to see the real thing.
        It would be only after viewing Magnolia House that she would know why there were no internal pictures.

Blissfully unaware of what awaited her, Sally took a few steps to the left of the gate, and from the low hedge, she could see that next to the Magnolia tree there was a large area which could be used for parking; already she was thinking of their Bed and Breakfast plan. It added further excitement to her plans as she could see that the gardens looked tidy as did the exterior of the house. So far so good, she thought as she headed back to the gate.
        Just before she pushed open the gate to walk up the path to the front door of Magnolia House, she turned and looked along the road for the agent. She had expected him to be here by now, but there was no sign of him.
        Checking first up then down the road, nothing. The only cars she could see were parked at the curb side. In fact, apart from herself, there was just one other person in the street and that was a postman, otherwise she was alone.   
        Checking her watch again for the umpteenth time, she decided she’d better view the house even if she had to do it on her own.

Standing on the top step in front of the carved wooden front door, with her arm outstretched, her index finger poised to press the large round button fitted into the stonework of the wall, with the words written in blue PRESS, when the door suddenly flew open.
      
     ‘Are you the Agent I’m about to spend a fortune with or the one having a nosey?’ snapped Mrs Leonard as she stood holding the door.
        Had it only been the shock of Mrs Leonard’s rudeness that stopped Sally in her tracks that would have been enough.
        But no, standing with her arms folded over a blue nylon overall, Mrs Leonard looked liked she’d just stepped out of a remake of 1960’s home grown film. Her head was covered with a headscarf and three large rollers protruded out of the front.
        Looking down, Sally saw that Mrs Leonard’s feet were slipped into fluffy mules which had a small heel. The only thing missing was a cigarette dangling from her lips, she thought as she stood on the top step shocked at what appeared in front of her.
        Holding back the urge to giggle, she looked at Mrs Leonard and in a surprisingly calm voice replied: ‘I’m her to view the house. I thought the Agent would be here by now.’
        With her hands shifting to her hips, making the nylon overall bristle, the owner of Magnolia House looked down at Sally: ‘You can stand there all day, but if you do, you’ll see nothing,’ Jane Leonard snapped before she stepped back and beckoned Sally to enter.
        Just before she took the final step into the house, Sally looked behind her in the hope that either Steve or the Agent would have arrived, but it was clear from where she was standing neither were to be seen, and so into the jaws of Magnolia House and the bristling of Mrs Leonard’s nylon overall Sally crossed the threshold alone.

Their budget wasn’t a big one and they would need to sell their own semi and spend some of the redundancy money to buy an established Bed and Breakfast. But Steve had convinced her that maybe they should look for something that needed some tender loving care. TLC is what he really said, because it would be cheaper and of course they could make it their own. Their money would go much further.
        She’d agreed.
        The thought of not having to spend all their savings or having to dip too heavily into their redundancy money was appealing. Though she did have reservations about Steve’s DIY skills, several instances sprung to mind, but despite the shiver that raced down her spine, she put these thoughts out of her head. There would be plenty of time and opportunity for these, pushed aside anxieties to haunt her.

Magnolia House was described as spacious, set in a picturesque village, but needed just a little updating. Reading the details and looking at the sunny photograph it looked and sounded perfect. After making an appointment to view through the agent, here she was standing on the other side of the threshold.

No sooner had she stepped inside the house then the door was shut with a resounding bang by Jane Leonard. The unexpected noise made her jump and from the corner of her eye, Sally saw a wicked glint in the owner’s eyes, but Mrs Leonard said nothing. Instead she stomped down the hallway to the door at the end, her fluffy mules click clacking on the linoleum floor.
        The noise made Sally look at the flooring, she’d not seen linoleum on the floor since visiting her grandma’s twenty years ago and her grandma was ninety then! Now she asked herself, what kind of place had she organised to view!

Standing in front of the closed door with her hand poised on the knob, Mrs Leonard turned to check Sally was still following, seeing her close behind she turned the knob to open the door.
        Pushing the door open, Mrs Leonard stood to one side.
        ‘After you, it’s you that’s come to look. Best part of the house if you ask me. Mind nowadays, cooking is not what it was. Bags and trays is all people buy to shove in one of those micometers.’
        ‘Microwave,’ Sally bravely corrected as she stepped past Mrs Leonard, who had now placed her hands into the large pockets at the front of her overall and ignored Sally’s response.
        With just two steps into the room, Sally stopped dead as she took in the large spotlessly clean room, she’d seen nothing like this since her grandma was alive.
        She’d stepped into a time warp.
        The photographer might have snapped the outside of the house well, but the definition of a little updating must be the understatement of our times. She realised her mouth was open as she looked around.
        Hanging at the sparkling windows was a pair of cotton gingham curtains. Underneath the window sill was a huge porcelain sink. From the wall two large taps stuck out, almost like they’d come through the wall by mistake and now couldn’t get back out. On each tap was a yellow rubber nozzle pushed on the end to ensure the water ran into the sink; not straight ahead as the taps appeared to have been designed.
        A fluorescent tube light was attached to the ceiling and appeared to be the main source of light once the sun had moved round from the window. The electric cooker, like everything else was spotlessly clean, but old. Looking around she thought, even Noah would struggle with these ancient fittings.
        As if reading her thoughts, Mrs Leonard, who was by now standing at her side, spoke: ‘Might look a bit older than what you’ve no doubt been used to, but it all works perfectly. I’ve been cooking here for more years than you could count. Seven years old, when I was put to helping: Stood at that sink dawn till dusk. The summer times was a killer, long days you see.’
        Sally turned and looked at Mrs Leonard she wasn’t sure what kind of response would be appropriate, so she just nodded her head and made a forced smile then said: ‘It says here,’ she looked at her sheet from the Estate Agent, ‘that there is a utility room.’
        Laughing, ‘And what might that be then?’
        Looking back at her details, nervously Sally read the description out to Mrs Leonard.
        ‘No wonder they wants to charge so much writing fancy words to things like that. Scullery is what I call it and scullery is what it’s been all my life. Anyway, follow me.’ 
        With her fluffy mules clipping on the stone flags, Jane Leonard marched into a small hallway then out through a door that lead into a paved yard. Across on the opposite side was a large red-brick building. Jane Leonard, clip clopped over to the door there, and with more force than was necessary, pushed it open.
        Calling from over her shoulder: ‘I thinks this is what you’re looking to see; Utility room.’ She laughed again.
        Sally gingerly stepped into the room. It was large, very large. Rows of shelves, a water tap, a mangle and standing next to it was a large tank on legs with a small tap close to its base.
        ‘Boiler,’ snapped Mrs Leonard as if knowing what Sally was thinking.
        ‘For washing clothes. Mind from time to time, I send the linen to the laundry. No doubt, you’ve got an automatic. Causes me problems them machines, can’t get the proper soap powder as I used; It’s all now for the new fangled machines. Mind a decent bar of soap was all we used to scrub it all clean in the past.’
        Having said this, Mrs Leonard, gave a sly look at Sally. She was enjoying herself today. 
        ‘And just for your information, that’s the toilet through the door at the end.’ At this point Sally once again checked her details before adding: ‘But there is a bathroom and separate toilet inside the house?’
        Without answering Sally’s question, Mrs Leonard walked out of the ‘utility room’, and clopped across the courtyard back through the small hallway and into the kitchen.
        With a knowing smile she again dug her hands into her nylon overall pockets making the entire garment bristle with static, then she looked over at Sally who had kept pace with her.
        ‘Got two we have. One just off here,’ at this point she nodded to a door at the far side of the kitchen, ‘and another up the stairs. Best you look at them, thens we can get on with the rest of the place.’

   Just as they were walking down the stairs, having viewed the entire house the door bell rang. Being ahead of Sally, Mrs Leonard clacked her heals on the thin stair runner as she made her way to answer the door.
        Opening the door with the same energy she’d earlier closed it, she confronted the caller.
        ‘I think you’re a bit late. I’ve done it meself. So don’t expect to be paid.’   
        Danny Bond stood on the door step. He was not invited in.
        ‘Mrs Leonard, I apologise for my delay, but there was an accident on the road and I simply couldn’t get through. But I did try on several occasions to call you, but your phone was engaged.’
        Jane Leonard didn’t answer. She assumed it was no doubt an excuse to wriggle out of being here: She remembered he’d had an excuse last time.
        Looking at Sally, Danny Bond added, ‘Mrs Bingley, I also called your mobile phone to explain, but again no reply.’
        It was only then that Sally realised that she had left her bag in the car and had only brought with her the Agents detail’s.  
        ‘Don’t worry, Mrs Leonard has shown me around.’ At this point, Jane Leonard added: ‘As I said, don’t expect to get a penny from me. You should be paying me for doing your job. Now if you’ve seen enough. I’ll let you both be on your way.’
        Walking past Jane Leonard and out through the open front door, Sally thanked her for showing her the house. But, no sooner had she said the words then the door was shut with a bang leaving Sally and Danny Bond standing on the steps.

Walking back into her kitchen, Jane Leonard smiled. This one had been the best so far.
        The look on Sally Bingley’s face when she’d showed her the kitchen and scullery: priceless.
        No doubt she’ll never hear from her again, so why not have some fun.
        She took off her overall and removed the scarf with its curlers, priceless, she said again to herself as she replaced the receiver back on the phone. ‘If the agent can’t turn up on time, then that’s his problem,’ she said out loud.

As Sally walked back to her car, Danny Bond asked her what she had thought of the house.
        ‘I loved it. Mrs Leonard’s weird, but at the right price I think we could do so much with it. Of course Steve needs to see it too, but I think it will be perfect.’   
        Danny smiled, it was with a mixture of relief and surprise he never thought he’d hear such words about Magnolia House.
        Trying to find a buyer for Magnolia House was proving to be difficult, not because of the house, but because of the owner, Mrs Leonard. He hated lying to her, but he simply couldn’t go through another viewing with her.  What now worried him was the thought that if Sally Bingley and her husband did like the house enough to make an offer, then he had no idea if and how the sale would go through. This was not a straight forward sale. Of course he didn’t mention any of these worries to Sally Bingley instead he added, ‘Let’s hope your husband is as keen when he sees it. Call me and we can arrange another viewing.’
        Smiling, Sally thanked him and before getting back into her car, she looked again at the house she wanted to buy.

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