The Dream House

Now she had lost Robert, it made sense to move closer to her daughter… didn’t it?

- Tara Westgate

Maggie and her daughter Emma walked with Louise, the estate agent, to the edge of the cliff.

“Absolutely magnificent,” said Louise. “Just this view alone will get you a lot of interest.” She pushed her windblown hair back from her face. “And it only took me twenty minutes from town.”

“It’s a much quicker drive than you’d think, isn’t it?” said Maggie. “We seem a long way out, but we’re not at all, really.”

Oh dear. She’d said it again. She’d said we instead of I. After more than forty years, it was hard to break the habit.

Louise didn’t reply. She seemed lost in contemplation. The expanse of seemingly infinite sea and the great, graceful sweep of cliff often had that effect on people. Maggie loved to be out here, with the sun dancing on the waves and the strong sea breeze nibbling at her bare arms.

Eventually, Louise turned away from the sea and looked towards the house.

“Your husband was very talented, Mrs Shepherd. I’m sorry for your loss.”

“Thank you.” Robert had been an architect. The house was his design. They had wanted to build their dream home and spend their retirement in it. They had only managed to complete the first part of this plan.

Louise said, “I’d like to see the back of the house before we go in again."

“Of course,” Emma replied, taking charge and leading the way.

When Louise had checked out the back garden and the garage, they returned inside. She had already seen the main living room, with its high ceiling and mellow wood floor, so Emma led her into the kitchen. Louise didn’t exclaim over it the way she had over the living room. The kitchen was galley-style, and quite small. It was probably not what buyers would expect in such a large house, with kitchens being so important to people now.