I had enlisted Rachel’s help, figuring she could also benefit from the distraction, and Auntie Sue and Mum had promised to come along later to pitch in.
‘You’re going to need a bigger wardrobe,’ Rachel said, pointing to the pile of clothes on the bed. The small closet was already jammed full.
Mathilde had also packed my jade Qing dynasty jewellery box and my prized pair of antique foo dogs – god knows what they had added to the air freight costs. I held one of the foo dogs, stroking the smooth edges of the ancient stone. It was a small piece of home, and I was beginning to imagine how Puffin Cottage might look with my personal touch.
We carried on unpacking, and each box revealed some new treasure. I squealed with delight as I came across my favourite Saint Laurent cowboy boots and a limited-edition silver Balenciaga cross-body bag.
Rachel unwrapped a vintage Louis Vuitton pochette. ‘Is this real?’ she raised an eyebrow at me.
I gulped. There were handbags in there that cost more than Rachel must earn in a month. More than her car was worth, most likely. Suddenly they seemed very out of place here, and not at all well-suited to my Seahouses lifestyle.
Auntie Sue arrived just before lunch, bringing sandwiches and scotch pies which she arranged on the kitchen table. Mum followed her in.
‘These are beautiful,’ Mum said, picking up one of the foo dogs from the windowsill. ‘They’re Buddhist guard-lions – they offer protection. But they don’t belong here…’
She looked around the room carefully, considering several spots before placing the dogs on the floor either side of the living room door.
‘There,’ she said, looking pleased with herself. ‘They’re looking outward – it’s excellent feng shui. The male goes on the right, and the female goes on the left. Can you feel that?’
The three of us exchanged puzzled glances.
‘The energy!’ Mum said, excitedly, ‘the energy in the room just changed!’ She looked expectantly for a response from us, and when she got nothing, shook her head disappointedly. ‘Maybe it’s just me…’
‘No,’ said Rachel, after a beat. ‘I feel it too. The energy. It feels better now.’
‘Me too,’ I said. I said it because I didn’t want Mum to feel bad, but something really had shifted in my mood – I suddenly felt lighter.
Her face lit up. ‘Actually,’ she said, with a new sparkle in her eyes, ‘we can make it even better.’
Twenty minutes later, the four of us looked breathlessly around the room, admiring our work. Mum had convinced me to flip the layout around, repositioning the furniture and moving a mirror from the landing to the wall opposite the fireplace. The living room now looked bigger, and although I wasn’t convinced by her insistence that the feng shui would balance the energy in my life and bring me good fortune, I had to admit that the space felt better somehow.
We moved upstairs and did some more rearranging in the bedroom and bathroom, with Mum giving me advice on colours and fabrics that would enhance and bring harmony to the rooms. I was visualising where I was going to position my Chinese antiques when they eventually arrived, and I could already imagine how the cottage interior would look with a new colour scheme. On a whim, I swapped the heavy green velvet curtains from the bedroom with the grey linen drapes that had been hanging in the living room, which reflected the tones of my sea view and made the window look instantly bigger. We repositioned the bed to face it, so that the sea would be the first thing I would see in the morning. I couldn’t wait to wake up in it the next day.
‘You’ve got a flair for this, you know,’ Mum said with a smile. ‘And the energy is spot-on.’
But as great as the feng shui was, I had another important opinion to canvass.
Diana Wheeler was punctual, giving me just enough time to arrange the cake I’d bought from Clarke’s onto a blue glass cake stand. Her eyes were wide as she surveyed the room.
‘Do you like it?’ I crossed my fingers behind my back, praying for her approval.
‘My dear,’ she said, looping her hand onto my arm. ‘It’s utterly charming, and I insist on the full tour.’ She glanced at the teapot. ‘But take that tea out of there, for heaven’s sake – it’ll be stewed.’
After a full exploration of the cottage, complete with more museum-length stories about her favourite items and the interesting tales of their provenance, we sat down for tea and cake. Mrs Wheeler asked me to pass her bag, which she reached into and retrieved a thin leather folder. She laid out its contents on the table.
‘Now, onto our business for the day - the sale of Puffin Cottage. My offer still stands, if you are interested, and my terms are quite simple. All I ask is that you care for the property and maintain its original character, as much as that is possible. Besides,’ she said with a wink, ‘it’s not like I’m going to be around forever to enforce it.’
I glanced down at the papers – it was the deeds to Puffin Cottage, and a transfer document with spaces for two signatures. She was absolutely serious.
‘Mrs Wheeler, I am so grateful – I-I’m humbled, truly. You’ve always been so kind to me, and my sister, b-but shouldn’t we discuss this first?’ I was stuttering.
‘My dear girl,’ she said, in the same voice she’d used when I was fifteen years old. ‘We are discussing it now. I have made my position abundantly clear, but if you have any questions or concerns, now is the time to raise them.’
‘I guess I’m just worried…’ How to put this? ‘I am concerned… that your offer is too generous. And that it wouldn’t be fair on your daughter.’
‘Ha!’ Mrs Wheeler laughed. ‘You’re worried she will come after you!’ She leaned towards me, wagging a
