The Little Cottage in the Country

‘Freddie!’ she called from the landing. ‘Are you two OK?’

Diane emerged from her bedroom, panda-eyes and still a trace of yesterday’s fangs. ‘What the hell is going on? Thought it was meant to be quiet in the country.’

Anna could hear Antonia crying in the bedroom and knew she had to attend to her children. She snuck back in and whispered, ‘Where is it?’

Freddie, with a glint in his eyes, announced it had gone and pointed at a crack in the skirting board. ‘It’s gone, Mummy.’ He smiled. ‘You’re a scaredy-cat.’

There was no denying it. ‘All right, Ninja, breakfast time,’ she said and led her brave little soldier into the bathroom to find Antonia.

‘I hate mouses,’ Antonia said, sitting on the loo seat.

Anna picked them up, one twin under each arm and made their way down stairs. Once they were settled in their chairs, she grabbed the juice and milk from the fridge, plucking some sugar-rush-inducing cereal off the side.

‘Sugar Puffs,’ she read aloud. ‘Why do I think this can only end badly?’ She put the box on the table.

Diane had removed the black rings from around her eyes and joined them. ‘Coffee, be a love.’

Anna sighed. ‘What did your last slave die of?’

‘I figure if I’m to be your slave today, then the least you can do is make me a coffee.’

‘OK.’ Anna filled the hob kettle. ‘You guys hear that? You are my witnesses that Diane Johnson hereby declares she will be my slave today.’

Diane smiled. ‘Yeah, well, I’ll even clean the toilets if it means you join me in the pub tonight.’

‘I can’t just leave the children,’ Anna pointed out.

‘I’ve sorted that.’

‘What?’ Anna turned. ‘Sorted how?’ she asked, narrowing her eyes.

Diane looked at the twins. ‘Do you guys mind if you get a babysitter this evening?’

Freddie shook his head. ‘Only if she has stickers.’

‘Oh, she’ll have stickers and I’ve heard she’s going to bring…’

Anna put a firm hand on Diane’s shoulder and nodded towards the door. Once in the front room, Anna said, ‘Who the hell is this babysitter? They’re my children, Dee. You can’t just arrange stuff like this without coming to me first. You know, I like to know who’s looking after my children.’ She nodded. ‘It’s not a game.’

Diane let out a belly laugh. ‘Yes, I know. That’s why I phoned your mum.’

‘What?’ Anna raised her voice. ‘My mother? She doesn’t even like them. I mean…’ She shook her head. ‘That’s not strictly true. She thinks they’re like accessories.’

‘No,’ Diane said quickly, ‘that’s in your head. She adores them. She told me so. In fact, we had a nice chat.’

‘When was this?’

‘After you went to bed last night.’ She grinned. ‘We both agreed that if you got out more you’d realise it’s not normal to be in bed by nine.’

‘It is if you’re bringing up children and now live with a home-wrecking nightmare of a best friend.’

Diane put her hands up in defeat. ‘OK, I’ll ring her and tell her we’re not going any more. That she’s not needed. That we’re just going to stay in and self-medicate instead. Anyway, didn’t you promise Barry?’

Anna stared into her friend’s big, pitiful eyes and smiled. ‘Fine. You win.’ She walked back to the kitchen, muttering, ‘My mother? Seriously?’

The twins looked at her and she felt she had to be upfront. ‘It’s Grandma. She’s coming to look after you tonight.’ Anna injected some cheeriness into her voice. ‘You remember last time how much fun you had?’ They stared at her, blankly. ‘I mean, you loved marking her latest purchases out of ten, didn’t you?’

She could have cried and all because Diane had got some hare-brained idea into her head that she was going to find a man in her local watering hole. It was time to don the marigolds and forget about this evening. Primrose Cottage wouldn’t clean itself but, more importantly, Anna realised, the sooner she cleaned the house, the quicker she could get down to reading her aunt’s diary, which sat invitingly on the side.

Six hours later, the cottage looked like an entirely different place. Diane had cleaned the toilets, but not without complaint.

‘I mean, seriously, Anna? This is probably against the law. I mean, isn’t there, like, a group that protects people like me from having to scrub out other people’s…’

‘Dee, language,’ Anna interjected from the other room where she was removing thick layers of dust off the furniture.

‘No, I mean, come on. We’re talking layers and I think I’m going to die of bleach poisoning. You know, come to think of it, I do feel light-headed and there is a skull and crossbones on here…’

‘Yeah, you’ll die if you drink it, not clean with it.’

‘I beg to differ and you know what else, Anna? I mean, you’re living in the middle of the countryside. How do you know you don’t have a septic tank? Do you want to be chucking this stuff down the toilet?’

Anna entered the bathroom and stared incredulously at Diane, who sat on the toilet seat, earphones stuffed in her ears, eating handfuls of the twins’ Sugar Puffs cereal and reading the back of the bleach bottle.

‘You haven’t even got the cap off,’ Anna said drily.

Diane looked up, unabashed. ‘Better I warn you now than after I’ve done it.’

Anna crossed her arms, realising she was, sadly, probably right. ‘Clean the shower instead then.’

Diane huffed. ‘God, such a taskmaster.’

Anna told Diane about Aunt Flo’s diary.

‘Oooh, how exciting,’ Diane breathed.

Anna nodded. ‘In her letter, she said it was really important to her that I read it.’

She wondered what on earth her aunt could have kept a secret all these years? As she cleaned, she daydreamed and, by the end of the day, she was convinced her aunt must have been a lesser-known member of the royal family or a spy. She couldn’t wait to sit down, in a private corner, away from the children and Diane, and find out.

Diane moaned all day, but the twins, on the other hand, threw themselves into their chores. Freddie was shown how to mop the floor and, when Anna returned, she found him bottom first inside the bucket and Antonia skidding around the soapy ice rink that was the front-room floor.

At five o’clock, Anna declared it the end of the day and settled down on the sofa with a cup of tea and her aunt’s diary.

At Anna’s proposal they stop, Diane, feet up on the sofa, put down her magazine and lay back in the cushion. ‘Thank God for that.’

Anna was pleased with the shimmer and shine they had created: the wood burner glass sparkled, the cottage windows reflected their faces and the furniture gleamed. Of course, there was the outside to come, but that would have to wait for another day.

Diane looked at her watch. ‘By my reckoning, your mother’s going to be here in half an hour and we’re due at the pub at six-thirty.’