LITMIR.BIZ

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head. Conversation was not going to plan. ‘No, Dee. Thingisitzhorridhere.’

      ‘Bet it’s not that bad.’

      ‘Really, itizth.’

      ‘Darling, I’ve been thinking I should stay with you until you get on your feet. She paused. ‘I mean, also I spoke to Barry yesterday. He said he could do with a freelance photographer for your column, so, Anna, is it OK if I come and stay?’

      ‘Yesth?’ Anna fell forward, her head hitting her knees.

      ‘Great!’

      ‘Whatzth?’ Alarm rang around Anna’s head. She realised she wasn’t thinking straight.

      The line had gone dead and Anna lurched the other way, falling onto the mattress, the low-beamed ceiling shifting unnervingly above her. She thought about the direction her life was taking and nearly vomited.

      She did, however, feel a renewed sense of ownership of the cottage. How dare a man, a stranger, tell her his family owned it and that he would effectively be making her homeless? Her aunt would have been mortified and her letter specifically asked that she stay there. She wouldn’t go away that easily.

      Anna nodded resolutely and then thought about Diane…

      She couldn’t seriously contemplate having mad London girl Diane staying with her when she was… She stopped. Tried to clarify what she was drunkenly saying to herself. OK, bluntly, it went a little bit like this: she could not have Diane come to stay when she was hoping to find some fit earl, lord, farmer (or similar). Was that what she wanted? Or was that the wine talking? She knew she needed to make friends. She knew already that Diane might be a bit much for the country lot, but then, Anna thought, chuckling to herself, maybe Trumpsey Blazey needed a bit of livening up.

      Of the dates she had been on in London, very few had moved beyond the solidarity of trying to find a taxi together and then, being so drunk, realising it was probably best, or safer, to just smile goofily and go their separate ways. But even Anna Compton had managed two dates where things had moved at a more normal rate and they had stumbled into a taxi together. However, the first time, she had found there was nothing more sobering than a German babysitter (her name actually was Heidi) standing at the front door, tapping her foot and looking at the both of them like they were five. The second time, when looking for a babysitter, she had opted for a dear friend called Alfie, who’d said he would do her this favour in the name of getting her out of her onesie and into something ‘vaguely more sexy, darling’. What she hadn’t banked on was bringing her date home to find Alfie watching a male-only version of Baywatch produced in Bulgaria.

      She squeezed her eyes shut and immediately regretted it. It was one thing being single with two children and getting drunk with a mate. But being single and getting drunk ALONE; that filled her with self-loathing. It hit her then: Diane should come and live with them, if for no other reason than it would be nice to have someone to help her with the twins, help them get settled.

      Anna dragged herself off her bed and tiptoed halfway down the stairs to check on the twins. She could hear their gentle snoring and watched Freddie’s face looking suddenly so cherub-like. It was moments like this that made her more determined than ever to make life better for her children.

      Yes, she thought, nodding to herself, filled with a renewed sense of purpose. Their new life was going to start tomorrow.

      *

      Diane arrived bright and early. Too early.

      Anna had just about managed to get the children bathed, after which they had eaten the rest of the beef stew (Anna made a mental note that she might actually have to visit a supermarket today). They were now playing happily outside and she walked to the front door and watched them. The scene was something out of a fairy tale. Until she looked closer. Freddie had his sister’s hand and was whizzing her round and round to the tune of ‘Mummy is sick, Mummy is green, Mummy looks like a seasick bean’.

      A car older and crankier than her own was chugging its way up the hill and she recognised it in a heartbeat. Diane parked her Citroen Saxo next to the Nissan and clambered out of the car, throwing her arms wide.

      ‘My darlings,’ she announced, ‘I am here.’

      Freddie whooped at the sight of his favourite surrogate auntie and released his sister’s hand mid-spin, causing Antonia to break away and spiral like a spinning top to the ground. Her lower lip started to quiver but, on seeing Diane, she got up directly and ran over with Freddie.

      Diane walked up the path, her eyes darting over the cottage, and took Anna in a firm embrace. Freddie and Antonia put their arms around Diane and they stood like that until Diane pulled away and broke the spell.

      ‘You look awful,’ Diane commented jovially.

      ‘Thanks,’ Anna said.

      ‘Mummy is sick, Mummy is green, Mummy looks like a seasick bean,’ Freddie started up again.

      ‘OK, you two,’ Anna said, wishing they would quiet down an iota: her head was about ready to explode. ‘We’re heading off to Waitrose soon, OK, so don’t get too mucky. Dee-Dee and I are going to have a quick cup of coffee.’

      Diane gave herself a whistle-stop tour of the house and, when she returned to the kitchen, smiled. ‘Not quite The Good Life.’

      ‘I did try and tell you on the phone last night.’

      ‘Yeah, but it’s got a charm about it.’ She laughed. ‘The outside looks a bit like the end of the world has come.’ She paused. ‘But I like it.’

      ‘So, you want to stay?’ Anna poured the coffee out.

      ‘Oh, yes.’ She barked a laugh out. ‘Don’t worry, I’ve still got my flat in London in case I piss you off or cramp your sex life.’

      Anna giggled. ‘Please. Don’t make me laugh.’ She clutched her stomach. ‘Drank a bottle of Merlot to myself.’

      ‘You’ve got a hangover on that? Lightweight.’ Diane wafted her hand dismissively. ‘That’s what I’m here for. To help you with this place and to have fun and… Girlfriend?’ She adopted her slightly strange Bronx meets Welsh accent. ‘Girlfriend, we are gonna have ourselves some fun.’

      ‘And look after the children.’

      ‘Yeah, course.’ Diane slurped at her coffee. ‘I mean, I decided to forego my feminism while I’m here.’

      ‘Can you do that?’ Anna hid behind her mug, stifling a smile.

      ‘What?’

      ‘Just stop being a feminist and then pick it up again? Not sure it’s exactly in line with The Female Eunuch and all that.’

      ‘No, I suppose not.’ Diane appraised her friend. ‘But who could resist a good shag?’

      Anna clinked her mug against Diane’s. ‘Hear, hear!’

      A knock at the door startled them both. Anna went to see who it was.

      ‘Hi.’ A man with sandy-coloured hair and the brightest blue eyes Anna had ever seen stood on the doorstep, smiling broadly at her. ‘I wanted to say hello.’ He handed her half a dozen eggs and a zip-locked bag of bacon. ‘And welcome.’

      ‘Wow, thanks.’ She took them from him and wondered if it was possible to never go to a supermarket again and live off the land for ever more. OK, not the land, but everyone else in the village. ‘That’s really kind.’

      ‘I’m Richard.’

      Anna held out her free hand. ‘Anna.’

      His grasp was warm and strong, his hands slightly calloused, and then, as if reading her thoughts, he announced, ‘I own the farm you drove past on your way in. Briars Farm?’

      Anna nodded. ‘Yes, I think I saw it.’

      Anna flushed under his intense stare and

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