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Chapter 2

When my bosses showed me photos of Apple Blossom Cottage, I was so in awe of its beautiful exterior and ready for my fresh start that it didn’t even occur to me to ask for photos of the inside. Now that I think about it, I can’t imagine my bosses saw photos of the interior either, because I feel like I’ve just walked into a nightmare, and there’s no way my bosses would knowingly send me to this.

‘Where’s all the stuff?’ Frankie asks.

‘I was just wondering that,’ I reply, strolling around, taking in my surroundings.

An overly minimalist kitchen (what you’d call it if you were being kind) sits at the back of an open-plan living/dining area.

The kitchen boasts a worktop, a small fridge freezer and what I’d guess is a gas cooker and oven. There’s a dining table with exactly three chairs, all of which have seen better days, and a living area that consists of a truly Eighties-style plush, grey three-seater sofa with a wood-and-brass trim, sitting across from a retro looking wooden TV cabinet (TV not included).

To the left are three doors, which I’m guessing are the two bedrooms and the bathroom – please, God, let one of the rooms be a bathroom. I don’t think I noticed an outhouse in the garden, but I don’t think I’d be at all surprised to learn the place didn’t have any plumbing. Thankfully, there is one.

A quick scout of all rooms confirms they are as minimal as the rest of the place but, worst of all, everything is so dusty. If this were an Airbnb rental, they would surely be getting an overly generous one-star rating from me – probably from Frankie too, who is currently coming down from his garden high as he tries to wrap his head around the indoor TV aerial. He extends the silver rods one at a time before quickly and carefully putting it down, just in case it’s something scary.

I cast my mind back to what Eric, one of my bosses, told me about the cottage. He said it was an ex holiday home, and that it was furnished. I suppose it is furnished, technically, but I didn’t expect something so retro.

Wow, did I just get catfished by a house? Now that I think about it, despite the cute, rural look of the outside of the cottage, perhaps the ivy might be the only thing holding the place together. This is a new low for me. I can’t wait to write this in my new diary.

‘This place sucks,’ Frankie says frankly.

Any other day, I would have been inclined to agree with him, but my fresh-start enthusiasm is still surging through my veins. ‘It’s all easily fixable, kiddo. We’ll fill it with our own things, we’ll clean the place up, we’ll buy the things we don’t have. It’s going to be great. This way, we get to put even more of our own spin on the place and really make it our own.’

Our moving van won’t be here until tomorrow, so for now we only have the essentials with us. But once we have all our own things, I’m sure we can make this place feel just like home.

Frankie pulls a face. I don’t think he’s buying it. I believe what I’m saying though. I’ll bring our stuff in, we can go out for some food, I’ll buy some cleaning products and everything will be great. I just need to keep telling myself that. Everything will be great.