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We all live in yellow submarine,
yellow submarine, yellow submarine,
We all live in yellow submarine,
yellow submarine, yellow submarine.

And our friends are all aboard,
Many more of them live next door,
And the band begins to play.

Lennon/McCartney

Previously…

I hurried downstairs and opened the door.

‘Auntieeee!’ I was mobbed instantly by my squealing nephew and niece and after nodding a brief hello to Dawn and Adrian, I was dragged upstairs by the aliens.

‘Can we go to the beach?’

‘I’m hungry, have you got a pasty?’

‘You’re fat.’

‘Not as fat as you, pudding!’

I sighed happily as I watched them jumping up and down excitedly in front of me. It was wonderful to be part of a proper family again.

And now the story continues…

It was lovely to be able to forget my problems for a while and dive head first into trying to help others. After a brief stop for drinks, we were off to try to find the ideal home for Dawn and Adrian, not forgetting the headache inducing children.

The plan was to leave the rather excited and excitable Hayley and Timothy with Jocasta, who had rashly promised them a ride on a pony. Then if and when we found a property that was suitable, we would show them around and see if they liked it.

We had agreed to meet Abby later, because she had to be in the pottery this morning. Always a busy time for her, Saturdays in the middle of the Summer season; usually she had a young girl with the unlikely name of Petunia helping her, but today she had galloping gut rot or something and hadn’t shown up.

We met Millie down by the quay and after hurried introductions we were off to see the first house. I won’t bore you with the details of the ones they didn’t like. It’s strange I suppose, you can look at properties till the cows come home and then, for some indefinable reason, you find the place that is “just right”.

‘Sorry you haven’t liked the ones I’ve shown you,’ Millie said.

‘That’s okay, Millie,’

We were all feeling a bit down now and I was worried that they might not move here. I had sort of taken for granted that Millie would work her magic and find them a home that they would love.

We had returned to the quay and were refreshing ourselves at the Bide a Wee Tea Rooms. There’s nothing like a cream tea to refresh the parts that need refreshing.

As I bit into a humungous scone, with it’s obligatory dollop of jam and even bigger dollop of thick clotted cream, I listened to the conversation between Adrian, Dawn and Millie. Being a refined young(ish) girl, I didn’t speak with my mouth full.

‘Look, Millie,’ said Adrian, ‘The places you’ve shown us have been fine; don’t get me wrong, but they seem to lack something.’

‘Something?’ repeated Millie.

‘Yes,’ put in Dawn. ‘A sort of wow factor.’

‘Pizzas.’ I said, forgetting how refined I was and sprinkling everyone with scone crumbs.

‘SAMANTHA!’ exclaimed Dawn. ‘Don’t speak with your mouth full and I think you mean pizzazz.’

‘Sorry,’ I mumbled behind my hand.

Millie smiled at me indulgently as if I was a little doggy who had committed some sort of faux pas.

I shut up then and carried on the important business of scone annihilation.

‘Ok, I’ve been saving this one for last. It’s an old place. The previous owner died some time ago and it hasn’t been lived in for three years. It’s got the number of rooms you require and is in reasonable repair but it needs a lick of paint. I could show you the details, but I think I would prefer to show you the property and not give you too many preconceived ideas about the place. It might not suit, but it’s the last one I have been able to find. Would you like to go and see it?

Dawn and Adrian looked at each other and nodded and then they looked at me. I dare not open my mouth so nodded as well.

‘Right, we’ll go as soon as we’ve finished here, oh and, Sam, you have cream and jam all over your top lip––’

Cuckoo Cottage was at the top of a steep lane leading off the quay. If you walked past the gate, you would be forgiven for thinking there wasn’t much there. The cottage couldn’t be seen from the gate and as it was swung creakily open, Millie gestured for us to all go first.

Dawn led the way with Adrian and I followed closely behind. After closing the gate with some difficulty, Millie brought up the rear. With the overgrown bushes on either side of the path and dead leaves strewn about, we had a bit of a struggle finding a way through. It was as close to an Amazon jungle that you possibly find in leafy Devon!

I was trying to untangle the hem of my skirt from a massive stinging nettle the size of a Triffid, when I heard a gasp from in front of me.

Finally, I was able to look up and I too gasped.

The cottage was detached and fairly ancient with white painted walls. It was two-storied, with old-world sash windows and it had a spectacular thatched roof! As if that wasn’t enough, there were roses climbing up the walls and over the front porch that were a riot of stunning pinks, reds, whites and yellows.

I had seen jigsaw puzzles with less picturesque views. Yes, the cottage needed painting and a bit of tender loving care, but it would be marvellous. I just hoped the inside lived up to the dreamy exterior.

To sounds of many oooh’s and aaah’s, Millie passed us, key in hand. ‘Hang on, I’ll open up.’

The interior wasn’t in too bad a shape. There was a short hallway and to the left was a traditional farmhouse kitchen, with lots of pine and a huge central table where I could just see the kids eating their breakfast cornflakes. In the corner was a large range–it was an Aga–that needed a good clean, but would supply heating and cooking facilities in abundance.

We returned to the hallway and crossed to the other side where we found the sitting room. It was reasonably large and had a huge ingle-nook fireplace that dominated the room. Windows looked over the garden, sadly in need of repair, but it would be a lovely view once the jungle was tamed.

There were two other rooms on the ground floor; one was the dining room, not large, but big enough to have a table and chairs. The other room, overlooked the garden and was what I would call a sun room, with the whole of one side taken up with windows. I could imagine sitting here looking over the garden while eating breakfast on a fine sunny morning.

Upstairs there were three bedrooms, though one of them I would call a box room. The two larger bedrooms were double ones with fine views over the garden and the bay down below. Finally, there was a bathroom and toilet, which was small and a bit old fashioned, but at least it was tiled.

To be honest, if I didn’t have my own lovely cottage, I would have truly lusted after this one. I hadn’t paid much attention to the others having gone off on my own to explore. When I had seen all there was to see, I went in search of them.

I could hear voices coming from one of the bedrooms and I went in to see Adrian, Dawn and Millie in a huddle by one of the windows. They looked up as I came in.

‘I wondered where you had got to,’ said Millie with a smile.

‘So, sis,’ I said, ‘what d’you think?’

‘We adore it!’ replied a smiling Dawn. ‘it’s just what we want, but the price is a bit steep.’

‘How much too steep?’

‘Twenty thou.’

‘Gosh, what are you going to do?’

‘Well,’ said Millie, ‘I’m going to ring the owners and find out if they will take an offer. There are things that need doing to the property and I’ll use that together with the depressed property market down here to try to twist their arms a bit. Do you all want to stay here while I go into the garden?–the reception stinks around here but I might just get a signal outside.’

Millie disappeared, leaving us to wax lyrical about this dream of a cottage.

I could see that the others were anxious about what was going on in the garden. They were so taken with the cottage, I worried that they would be heartbroken if they couldn’t have it. They had already had an offer on their house and there was no chain, so, in theory anyway they could move in very quickly; if, and that was a big if the owners accepted the offer.

Millie came back in with a frown on her face.

‘Sorry, the owners, who inherited the place are out shopping. I’ve left a message to ask them to contact me urgently, so we’ll just have to wait. Look, I’ve got to see a man about a beach hut; I’ll ring you as soon as I get news, okay?’

‘Yes, fine.’ I said, ‘we are going to get some lunch. Ring you when you can.’

‘Okay, bye for now. Shut the front door behind you when you’ve finished looking around.’ With that she shot off. I had never seen Millie do anything slowly and wondered if she had a blood pressure problem. Mind you, she loved her job, so you couldn’t call what she did, stressful.

We had another good look around the cottage and the garden. There was quite a lot to do, but nothing seemed to be drastic. No doubt Mr Potts would be sucking in his teeth at the sight of it, but he–or rather his son–would give a reasonable estimate for the work required.

I looked at my watch, nearly one o’clock and almost immediately, my ’phone chirped. Pulling it out of my bag I saw that it was Abby.

‘Hi, Abby.’

‘Hello, love, I’m just finishing up here. Are you ready for some lunch?’

‘Yes, we’ll grab the kids and meet you at the pottery and then we can all go to the restaurant together.’

‘Sounds like a plan, see you soon, byee!’

I went in search of my sister and brother-in-law; they were upstairs in one of the bedrooms that overlooked the cove and sea beyond. Adrian had his arm around Dawn and they were both wistfully looking out of the window.

‘Are you ready, we have to go and meet Abby at the pottery.’

‘Okay,’ said Dawn with a sigh, ‘I do hope they’ll accept a lower offer. We’ve fallen in love with this gorgeous cottage.’

‘Millie is good at negotiating; she’ll do her best for you. Come on, let’s go. I’m dying for you to meet Abby!’

After prising the children off the ponies at Jo’s place, we made our way down the quay to meet my Abby. Any thought that I might have had concerning problems between her and my family were dispelled as soon as we met her. There were hugs all around and the children, although a bit shy at first, soon got over it and treated her like family almost from the word go.

The Beachcomber Restaurant lived up to the hype. I hadn’t been there before. It was situated just behind the beach, beyond a craggy outcrop of rocks that hid it from the main beach. It had a large patio area for nice weather and a sizeable restaurant inside for those all too frequent inclement times. It was a whitewashed building with lots of glass and was built, I would guess in the twenties to a very high standard of poshness. All the tables had parasols, so you didn’t bake in the sun while eating outside. Judging by the number of patrons, it was a favourite haunt of locals and visitors alike. The children, of course wanted to go straight on to the beach, which was literally one step away from the restaurant, but Dawn told them that we were to eat first and then we would see.

The food was delicious, I had a sea food salad, Abby a steak and Dawn and Adrian, plaice, done in some sort of white sauce. The kids, surprise, surprise, each had a burger and chips. We all had soft drinks in the form of a sort of fruit punch in a large glass jug with lots of ice. We had a refill of that as it went down a treat in the hot temperature.

Abby asked how we had got on with the house hunting and we told her about the offer that we hoped would be accepted.

‘Millie will do her best,’ she said.

‘I told them that.’ I said. Dawn and Adrian looked a bit pessimistic though.

My ’phone went and we all sort of jumped. I pulled it out of my bag, thinking that it would be Millie, but it wasn’t a number I recognised. With a bit of dread that it might be Nigel, Olivia or one of their henchmen, I pressed the green button.

‘H—hello?’

‘Is that you?’

‘Pardon?’

‘I said is that you, girl? Are you deaf?’

‘Oh, Lady Fairbairn. Erm, how can I help you?’

‘How’s m’ painting gettin’ along?’

‘Fine.’

‘Can’t hear you, this confounded instrument, speak up!’

‘FINE.’

‘Wine, I don’t want wine. What are you ditherin’ on about?’

‘I said that the picture is fine.’

‘No need to shout, not deaf don’t y’know. Right, when will it be ready?’

I thought for a moment.

‘Tuesday, I think.’

‘You think? Don’t y’know, girl? ‘

‘Y—yes, Tuesday.’

‘I’ll be at home on Tuesday at eleven sharp. Don’t be late. Tea will be served. Can’t abide people bein’ late. As I told dear Winston, “If we had been late at D Day, where would we be then?”’

‘Erm, right.’

‘What did you say, fight? Yes it was a fight but we beat the buggers. Hubby was a Subaltern then. I was a nurse; damn fine times. Enough of that nonsense. Be here at eleven sharp.’

I heard a click as the phone went dead.

‘Lady F?’ said Abby with a smile.

‘Mmm, she wants her painting as soon as pos. I said Tuesday.’

‘Will it be ready by then?’

‘If I burn a little midnight oil, yes.’

‘Who is lady F.’ asked Dawn.

‘Don’t ask.’ said Abby and I in unison.

The children were let loose, and we let them go and play on the sand while we watched them over coffee.

Just then, my ’phone chirped again. It was Millie and I answered it while the others watched me anxiously.

‘Hi, Sam, are the others with you?’

‘Yes.’

‘Can I speak to one of them?’

‘Who wants to speak to Millie?’

‘You take it, Ade, I can’t.’

Adrian, took the ’phone from me, stood up and went down a few steps to the beach.

We all watched as he walked up and down, talking animatedly.

Dawn held my hand and I noticed that she was shaking slightly. I squeezed her hand reassuringly as I glanced at Abby and raised my eyebrows slightly. We had got to the stage where we could communicate without talking and I knew she felt the same as me; that we really wanted them to come and live in the village.

Adrian walked back. His expression was unreadable. He sat down, picked up his glass and drank deeply.

‘Well?’ said Dawn, with exasperation in her voice.

‘What dear?’

‘Don’t what dear me, Adrian, what has happened?

‘Oh that. We’ve got the cottage at twenty-five thou’ less than the asking price.

‘You sod!’ She said, bashing him around the head with a napkin.

We all began whooping and congratulating one another, bringing frowns from the other diners, but what the hell, it’s not every day that you buy your dream home.

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To Be Continued...

Please leave comments...thanks! ~Sue

My thanks go to the brilliant and lovely Gabi for editing, help with the plot-lines and pulling the story into shape.