A Perfect Proposal (44 page)

‘And we need more bathrooms,’ said Luke.

Becky nodded. ‘Fortunately the rooms are large and we could put in en suites without having to lose bedrooms. I had a good look when I came the other day,’ she added to Matilda, explaining her knowledge of the building.

‘Would you want a formal dining room, if you expanded the kitchen so much?’ asked Sophie warming to the theme. ‘If not, what would you do with that room? It’s huge.’

‘A family room would be a good idea,’ said Matilda. ‘A place where the younger folks can hang out.’

‘Hang out, Grandmother?’ said Luke, smiling.

‘You know what I mean, dear,’ said Matilda.

‘What sort of budget are you looking at?’ asked Becky. Luke and Matilda both looked at her blankly. ‘How much money is there to spend? It helps if I know how much you want to spend before I start planning on gold taps in all the bathrooms.’

‘That’s faucets to you,’ said Sophie to Luke.

‘We don’t need to worry about expense,’ said Matilda. ‘We just want quality.’

‘Fine,’ said Becky, scribbling madly.

Matilda got up, ‘Sophie dear, would you take me upstairs again? I want to go into the attic to take a picture of my little bedroom, I forgot earlier.’

‘Of course!’ Sophie went behind Matilda, ready to catch her on the twisting attic stairs if she fell, but Matilda went up sure-footedly and crossed to the window.

‘Isn’t it wonderful? Those views!’ said Sophie ‘This must have been the perfect room for a little girl.’

Matilda took pictures before they went into the other room together. ‘This is bigger,’ said Matilda. ‘You could possibly knock through and make a master suite up here.’

‘You should tell Becky, if that’s what you want,’ said Sophie. ‘It would be amazing.’

‘Well, would you like that?’

Sophie frowned. ‘Well, actually, if it was my house, and I had children, I wouldn’t want to be so far away from them.’

‘Do you want children, Sophie?’ It was the second time that day that someone had asked her that question.

‘Oh yes. Always have. Not until I’ve got the right man, of course, but I’ve always wanted a big family.’ She paused. ‘There’s no guarantee I’ll have one though.’ She sighed, wondering if she’d ever fall in love again or if Luke would always be the man who stayed in her dreams when her real life was with someone quite different.

Matilda patted her arm. ‘There are wonderful techniques for those with fertility problems these days.’

In spite of her wistful mood Sophie chuckled. She hadn’t actually been worrying about her fertility, more the father of her children. ‘Have you seen enough? You must be getting tired.’

‘I am a little,’ Matilda confided. ‘But don’t tell Luke. He’s still a little cross with me for buying this house but I have my reasons and I think it’s going to be great fun setting it all in order.’

‘And I suppose if you have a private jet you can pop over and visit whenever you like.’

‘Yes, dear,’ said Matilda and set off down the stairs.

Becky had a clipboard and had been making sketches. ‘I just need to find out a bit more about your tastes, what colours and fabrics you like, Mrs Winchester,’ she said as Sophie and she appeared again. ‘It’s such a gift of a project! I’ll make you up a mood board.’

Matilda smiled. ‘Well, dear, I think you should talk about it with Sophie. My ideas might be rather behind the times.’

Sophie laughed. ‘I don’t think so! You suggested making the attic into a master suite! That’s a very “now” sort of idea.’

‘Mm, Sophie didn’t care for it, so we won’t do that.’

‘Don’t go on what I want, it’s your house! I was just saying what I felt—’ Suddenly aware of Luke’s gaze upon her Sophie stopped. She didn’t want to share her dreams of children with him!

‘So, Mrs Winchester…’ said Becky. She was probably finding her client a little difficult to pin down. ‘What do you like? Are your tastes contemporary, as Sophie suggests? Or do you like something a bit more in keeping with the house?’

‘In keeping with the house, I suggest,’ said Luke. Everyone turned to him.

Matilda inclined her head. ‘That sounds right to me? What do you think, Sophie?’

‘I don’t know! I don’t like those houses you see in television programmes where everything is exactly in period but you wonder how comfortable they’d be. I think you need a middle way between traditional and modern.’

‘Your instincts are perfect,’ said Becky, scribbling away. ‘Now I should have a look round the outside of the house.’

‘Luke and Sophie, do go with Becky. I think I’ll rest a while.’

Sophie shivered as they got outside and Becky fetched her coat from her car. The beautiful morning was changing and now dark clouds were crossing the sky, reminding the world that it was still only April, it was not summer yet.

While they walked up to the walled garden and Luke and Becky discussed the virtues of swimming pools – covered and heated with solar panels – versus a vegetable garden, Sophie wondered if she should stay. With Matilda here herself, she wasn’t really needed. And was being near Luke but not with him a pleasure or a pain? It was lovely hearing his voice and seeing him; watching him with Matilda, so fond and protective, she couldn’t help remembering when he’d been like that with her. But then Ali had come, forcing reality on to them – her, anyway. Luke had probably always known it was only a transient thing that never could have survived the real world.

She wandered down from the walled garden to the back of the house, where nothing had been changed for years and years, and rejoined Becky, Luke and Matilda.

‘Sophie, honey,’ said Matilda, who seemed full of energy again after her rest. ‘What colours would you like in your kitchen?’

‘In this kitchen, do you mean? Well, obviously, it would be up to the owner, but I like warm yellows and reds. Maybe a pale biscuit colour. What do you think, Becky?’

‘If you had some pretty curtains, you could pick up a shade from them,’ said Becky. ‘And if you had a sofa, you could pick up another shade, unless you find something old that you just leave – for the shabby-chic look.’

‘Shabby chic?’ Matilda looked at Luke and they both looked at Sophie, who was laughing.

‘That may be a foreign concept to you,’ Sophie said. ‘It’s probably a British thing.’

‘Not at all,’ said Luke. ‘We have it in the States too.’

‘So what sort of fabrics do you like?’ Matilda asked, moving on, obviously not keen on things that were tatty.

‘I don’t know really,’ said Sophie. ‘I’ve never actually chosen fabric for anything. I always make do with what’s available. I think the thought of having too much choice would be rather daunting.’

‘Becky, honey, why don’t you put together some samples and let Sophie choose from those,’ suggested Matilda.

‘I don’t understand! Why are you going with my choices?’ asked Sophie. ‘Matilda, it should be what
you
like. Can you remember what sort of fabrics were here when you were little?’

‘Not really. I was very small, although I do remember birds,’ said Matilda.

‘Oh, William Morris!’ said Becky. ‘It would be about right for the house. I’ll source some samples.’

Matilda yawned and Luke was instantly by her side. ‘You’re tired, Granny. Let me go with you to your hotel. Where are you staying?’

‘We don’t have anything booked. We thought we’d just find something when we got here,’ Matilda said.

‘The nearest decent hotel is in Truro,’ said Becky. ‘There’s nothing nearer.’

‘Where are you staying, honey?’ Matilda asked Luke.

‘We’re staying in a bed and breakfast—’ he began.

‘With a lovely woman called Moira,’ interrupted Sophie, seeing a way to leave without appearing to be running away. ‘You could have my room, Matilda. It’s very quaint and comfortable.’ She was about to say, ‘Isn’t it, Luke?’ but managed to stop herself in time.

He didn’t seem to care so much about discretion. ‘Yes, it is a nice room, even if it is much smaller than you’re used to.’

‘It’s a double!’ said Sophie indignantly and then remembered that Matilda’s suite at her home in Connecticut
probably exceeded the square footage of Moira’s entire house.

‘And there is another room for April,’ said Luke.

The realisation that Luke might have been seeking reasons to leave too suddenly felt like an affront, even though life would be so much easier without him. It was, she decided, because she didn’t want to be left again, she wanted to be the one to leave this time.

‘I’m sure Moira will know of another bed and breakfast where you two could stay,’ said Becky.

‘We need two rooms,’ said Sophie, in case Becky didn’t understand.

‘You could have as many rooms as you like.’ Becky didn’t understand why Sophie needed to make a point of it.

‘Anyway, let’s all go back to Moira’s,’ said Luke. ‘We can sort out sleeping arrangements then.’

‘Do you think we should call ahead?’ said Sophie to Becky. ‘Having Matilda might seem a bit like receiving royalty.’

‘I don’t know Moira that well, but I’m sure she’ll cope.’

Sophie made sure she got there first, although it meant driving faster than she usually did and parking her car outside Moira’s house, partially blocking the road, instead of in the car park.

‘Moira! Matilda – that’s Luke’s grandmother – is here from America, with a companion. They’ll need your rooms. Is there anywhere Luke and I can stay? Or shall I just go home?’

‘Calm down, you’re gabbling,’ said Moira. ‘How many people do I have to find room for?’

‘Four, but don’t worry, I know you can’t. I’ll just go and park the car. The others will be here in a minute.’

Although it was now raining quite hard, she took her time walking back. She wanted to allow Luke time to do introductions and explanations, and also to give herself an opportunity to plan a short speech of farewell, using the lack
of accommodation as an excuse for her having to hurry back home.

She took off her wet coat and was ushered into the kitchen where the others were drinking tea and eating cake. She opened her mouth to explain about why she should leave immediately, when Matilda said, ‘It’s fine, honey. Moira has a friend with rooms. You and Luke can go and stay there. I still need you to be around.’

‘I should be going back to London,’ said Luke. ‘I have a meeting.’

‘Not till the afternoon,’ said Matilda, ‘you said. And you can take the plane. I need you here to help Becky with decisions.’

Sophie sipped her tea, reflecting that Matilda could be quite imperious when she needed to be. It would be very foolish to dismiss her as a sweet old lady. Old and sweet she may be, but she had a strong will and seemed to have no trouble getting people to do what she wanted them to.

‘We don’t have to decide anything yet,’ said Becky. ‘I’ll put together a mood board, based on what we’ve talked about. That should give you enough to say if you hate anything.’ She said this to the kitchen table, laden with mugs and plates and cake, obviously not sure who her client really was.

‘You could send Matilda pictures, couldn’t you?’ said Sophie. ‘Then she can show her family the house and your ideas.’

‘Of course I could,’ said Becky. ‘Just as soon as I’ve got some thoughts together, I’ll do that.’

‘Pictures!’ said Matilda. ‘I’ve just realised, I don’t seem to have my camera with me. April, honey? Did I give it to you?’

‘I was napping in the car,’ said April. ‘Did you give it to Mr Winchester?’

Luke shook his head.

‘You definitely had it in your old bedroom,’ said Sophie.
‘You took loads of pictures. You’ve probably left it there.’ She got up. ‘I should have checked you had it. I’ll go back and get it.’

‘But it’s raining!’ said Matilda.

‘I know! I won’t dissolve!’ said Sophie gaily, glad of an excuse to leave the crowded kitchen, which seemed full of confusion and misunderstanding, not to mention Luke.

‘Really,’ said Moira, ‘I wouldn’t go unless it’s really urgent. What with this wind and all the streams being full—’

‘I’ll be back before you know it!’ said Sophie, pushing her chair back under the table.

‘Well, you shouldn’t go alone, obviously,’ said Luke, frowning.

‘There’s no obviously about it. Just have the kettle on when I get back home.’

The wind did whip her with icy rain and her coat was still damp from before, but Sophie didn’t regret her decision to go back to the house for Matilda’s camera. Luke’s protest that she shouldn’t go on her own was pleasing. In a small way she was proving she could get along without him, and while he had been immensely helpful with her drilling-rights project, emotionally she could do just fine on her own.

Suddenly there was water everywhere and she realised that the hills must be riddled with little streams which were now turning into bigger streams, and the excess water was escaping down the road. She drove carefully, and felt perfectly in control. She was a practised driver now and, with her brand-new hire car, had confidence she could get to the house and back without mishap. She wondered what Moira would do about feeding everyone and felt a bit guilty about leaving her to start without help. But she’d be there in time to peel potatoes if any needed peeling, Moira knew that.