A Perfect Home (8 page)

‘Pretend to William that he has to wear it now.'

‘I'd love to see his face,' she said. Stefan laughed.

‘Excuse me, Stefan,' cut in Babette. ‘Could you stop chatting her up and get on with the shoot?' She winked at Claire. ‘Watch him. He's a bit of a charmer.'

For the second time, Claire felt herself blush. It was ridiculous, she never blushed – it must be the heat.

The day passed quickly. It was more fun than Claire had imagined it would be. The children opened their empty boxes, squealing with delight when they found a sweet in each, two little bears for Ben and Emily, and a pack of Pokémon cards for Oliver. They smiled happily and obediently crept down the stairs in night clothes, peeping through the banisters as if in awe of the magical scene below. Ben sat on the old dappled rocking horse, smiling to order, and Oliver and Emily pretended to eat mince pies, which they usually hated, eyes wide with appreciation. Claire stood beside them in her Emily Love apron holding Emily Love oven gloves as if she had just taken the pies from her Aga. Even Macavity the cat joined in and obediently lay in front of the fire beside the children.

Stefan was keen to concentrate a lot of shots in the kitchen despite William's protestations that it needed redecorating and was looking shabby.

‘Don't you want to do more in the living room? It's just been redone; the floor boards are reclaimed American Oak.'

‘I like the kitchen,' Stefan said cheerfully. ‘It's got real charm and sets off Claire's work perfectly.'

At first Claire felt embarrassed posing in front of Stefan's lens, but he and Babette were so friendly and funny that she soon relaxed and got used to the constant clicking. Even William seemed to be enjoying himself. Claire couldn't remember when they'd last spent so much time together as a family.

‘You could all be top-class models,' Babette told the children at the end of the afternoon. ‘You'd make a fortune.'

‘Oh, could I, Mummy?' said Emily excitedly. ‘Could I be a real model?'

Claire shook her head firmly. ‘Definitely not. This is as far as your modelling career goes.'

‘These are fantastic,' said Stefan, as he looked back at the shots he'd taken on his camera. ‘The house looks great. What else are we doing today, Babette? Is that it?'

‘I think we've got everything with the children and the tree, and we've done the kitchen from all the angles I can think of,' she said. ‘We still need some pictures of Claire in her studio and the empty room shots but they can be done tomorrow. You won't need me for those.'

‘Where are you going?' he asked. ‘I thought you were booked into the hotel in town with me.'

‘Didn't I say? I've got to get back to London tonight,' she said, taking orange slices off the tree. ‘I'm doing a shoot on a houseboat in Putney tomorrow first thing, but you don't need me any more. I'd better get going because I've got a birthday dinner party at my boyfriend's best friend's girlfriend's flat tonight. It's an eighties fancy-dress do and I think it's going to be retro nouvelle cuisine; I need to get home to grab myself a piece of toast and a bag of nachos before I go, otherwise I won't get enough to eat and I'll get so drunk I'll never get up for Putney tomorrow.'

Babette unwrapped the lights from the tree, kissed and hugged the children as if she were their favourite aunt, and drove away in her orange car while Claire, the children, and Stefan stood at the front door waving happily. William had already left them and was busy measuring the space where the summer house would stand.

‘Iced lemonade on the lawn?' Claire asked Stefan, after she had put out the fire in the living room and he had packed away his cameras and lights. The heat was almost unbearable, even now at five o'clock.

‘Perfect. I think that's enough hard work for today for everyone and we'll get a bit of peace and quiet now that Babette has gone.'

‘I don't think we'll get much peace and quiet with these three around,' Claire laughed, as the children suddenly appeared dressed in swimsuits. Emily had dressed Ben in an old pink shiny one of hers with a red and white frilly skirt. He was wearing it back to front and looked like an effeminate wrestler.

‘Paddling pool, paddling pool!' they shouted together, hopping around her.

‘We're so hot, I'm melting,' said Oliver. ‘I'll soon be just a big wet blob.'

‘Wait till Daddy finishes what he's doing and then he'll put water in the paddling pool,' said Claire, trying to get the jug of lemonade from the fridge as Ben pulled at her arm.

‘Show me where everything is and we'll fill it up while your mum gets us all a drink,' said Stefan to the children, shepherding them into the garden.

Five minutes later the children were happily splashing in the cool water and eating ice lollies. Meanwhile, Claire and Stefan sat a safe distance away on wrought-iron chairs. On the table a large glass jug of lemonade sparkled in the sunlight.

‘I can't believe we've just had Christmas day,' said Claire, now happily changed back into her summer dress, her shoes kicked off, feet bare on the rough, dry grass.

‘This is what it's like in Australia at Christmas,' said Stefan.

‘Have you ever been there?'

‘I lived there for a few years a while ago. I spent a few Christmases on the beach. Barbequed turkey drumsticks followed by an afternoon of surfing. It was fantastic.'

‘What brought you back?'

‘I don't know really,' he said, staring across the valley. ‘I've never really settled anywhere for long, but in Australia I missed frosty winter mornings and the snow, and a relationship didn't work out.' He shrugged. ‘The job with
Idyllic Homes
came up at the right time so I came back.' He was silent for a few seconds. Then he smiled at Claire, his dark eyes twinkling. ‘Maybe I just missed a good cup of tea and a Marmite sandwich.'

‘I thought you had Vegemite in Australia,' said Claire. ‘Isn't that the same as Marmite?' She longed to ask about the relationship.

‘No, it's not the same.'

‘So a sandwich brought you back to the rain and cold and congestion?'

‘Do you know, I don't think I've had a Marmite sandwich since I've been back?' Stefan laughed, but then was serious. ‘I think I missed the British countryside. I'd like a life like this – old farmhouse, big garden, roses round the door, vegetable patch.'

‘Dog.'

‘Chickens,' Stefan added.

Ben came over, arms outstretched, dripping with water and melted ice lolly. He gave Claire a hug and a kiss before running back and belly-flopping into the pool.

‘You've got sticky stuff on your skirt now,' said Stefan. ‘Do you want me to get a cloth to wipe it?'

‘You really don't have children do you?' said Claire, laughing ‘If you did you'd know that after a while you don't care about the sticky stuff all over you. It all goes in the wash at the end of the day. Though William struggles with the messier side of parenthood, he'd definitely be getting a cloth right now.' She bit her lip.

‘I always wanted to have children,' Stefan went on. ‘But I think I'm getting a bit old now.'

‘You don't look too old,' she argued.

‘How old are you?' Stefan asked, taking a sip of lemonade.

‘I don't think you're meant to ask ladies their age.'

‘Sorry, I forgot. How rude of me.' He grinned at her.

After a brief pause she said, ‘I was thirty-five last Guy Fawkes night.'

‘Wow, fireworks on your birthday, what a celebration every year! But actually I thought you were older.'

‘Thanks!'

‘No, sorry. I didn't mean you look older; you look years younger of course.' He flashed a smile that immediately made Claire forgive him. ‘It's just you have so much, have achieved so much, when I feel I've hardly started. I've concentrated on my work and travelled for so long, but sometimes I look round at my life and wonder what I've really achieved. What have I got to show for it all? Most of my friends are part of couples, some of them even on second marriages. Most of them have children, nice houses, gardens – like you. For some reason I've never really settled down, I've never really made a home.'

‘Don't you have a girlfriend?' Inexplicably she had found it very hard to ask that question but also impossible not to.

‘No. Not really,' he replied, then after a few seconds added, ‘well, I'm sort of at the end of something casual that hasn't worked from the start.'

Claire looked at him from the corner of her eye. Babette's comment about him being ‘a bit of a charmer' echoed in her head. He looked at her and she realised she'd been staring.

A silence fell between them; the sounds of the children shrieking with laughter in the water filled the gap. Macavity jumped up onto Claire's knee and Stefan reached across to stroke his head.

William suddenly appeared with his notebook and tape measure. Claire felt a jolt of surprise. She'd forgotten that he was around. Stefan took his hand away from Macavity's head.

‘I think the summer house is going to fit perfectly down there once the trees have gone,' said William. ‘Any lemonade for me, darling?'

Claire realised she had forgotten to bring out a third glass.

‘I think I ought to go to the hotel now,' said Stefan, standing up. ‘I've got calls to make and emails to send. Can you recommend somewhere to eat in town?'

‘There's a nice new little Italian on the High Street,' said William.

‘Come back and have supper with us,' offered Claire, on an impulse. She felt her husband glaring at her.

‘That would be great. If it's not too much trouble.' He turned to William. ‘You can tell me all about the work you must have done to this place to make it so lovely.' Claire thought she could see William's chest visibly expand with pride, his annoyance melting.

‘I'll show you pictures of how it was when we first moved here,' he said. ‘I'm sure you'll hardly recognise it. I took pictures of work in progress too. Every stage has been documented – seven albums so far.'

‘I'll look forward to seeing them later,' said Stefan.

Claire pushed the cat from her lap and stood up to walk Stefan to his car.

‘Don't worry,' he said. ‘I'll see myself out. You go and get William his glass of lemonade.'

Chapter Seven

‘There is nothing Claire enjoys more than entertaining family and friends with a selection of deliciously tempting meals from her beloved Aga.'

Stefan arrived on time, bearing wine and a bunch of red chrysanthemums.

‘They're from the petrol station I'm afraid,' he said apologetically. ‘The only place that was open,'

‘No twenty-four hour shopping here,' said William as he opened the wine. ‘It's the one drawback of living the rural dream.'

‘There's something I forgot to do today,' said Stefan, bending down to pick up one of Ben's toy cars that he had just been about to step on. ‘The magazine needs a picture of both of you. It'll go in a small box in the corner of the article with some basic information about you. I'm sure you've seen the sort of thing I mean. Can we do it tomorrow?'

‘I'll be at work,' William put in quickly.

‘That's what I was worried about,' Stefan said. ‘We'd better do it now, then.'

He posed Claire and William on the sofa in the living room.

‘Could you put your arm around Claire's shoulder?' he asked. William dutifully obeyed. Claire felt embarrassed. She had lost the relaxed feel she had had earlier on in the day.

‘OK, maybe one without your arm round her. Just sit side by side. And could you both try to smile a little bit?'

Claire tried; her face felt stiff. Beside her William sat upright, perched on the edge of the sofa.

‘I think that will be fine,' said Stefan after a few minutes. He quickly packed the camera back into its case and smiled at William. ‘So, tell me about the house.'

While Stefan looked through William's endless renovation photographs, Claire made dinner. She hastily put together a pasta dish of wild rocket from the garden, feta, and pine nuts and searched in the freezer for some leftover lemon ice cream she had made for a lunch party the month before. William's voice blurred into a gentle drone as Claire cooked. Occasionally a sentence would pierce her consciousness.

‘And that was before I dug out the soak-away for the septic tank … Of course, I had to paint the rotten timbers with wood hardener … Bats in the attic were the biggest problem.'

She felt sure that Stefan must be bored. At one point he caught her eye. She dropped the packet she had in her hand and a shower of pine nuts bounced and rolled across the floor.

‘Careful, Claire,' said William, before turning back to the photograph album. ‘This one shows the stud partition wall I took down to make the dining room bigger.'

They ate outside in the warm evening air.

‘This is delicious,' said Stefan tucking into his dish of pasta.

‘Yes, it's very nice, darling,' said William after tasting his first mouthful, then after a few seconds. ‘Have you put any salt it?'

‘Yes, of course,' Claire replied.

‘I think it needs a touch more.' William took another mouthful. ‘Yes, it definitely needs more salt. I'll go and get some.' He got up and left the table. Claire stared hard at her plate of tagliatelle, stirring it round and round with her fork, her appetite had vanished. Glancing up she found Stefan watching her. He smiled.

‘The salt mill's nearly empty,' called William from the kitchen. ‘And there's no more rock salt in the cupboard.' Stefan raised his eyebrows slightly and Claire felt a little better.

‘I'll put it on the shopping list for tomorrow,' she called back to William. He returned and immediately embarked on a long discourse about house prices.