The Country Escape - Jane Lovering Page 0,31
of visual shorthand so the viewer “gets” that this place is a house lived in by someone with serious problems. It’s why we asked you not to decorate or do too much to the place.’
Three big men trampled into the kitchen, unspooling wires and hefting plastic boxes full of what seemed to be other plastic boxes. They were all wearing CREW jackets, and I hoped that Poppy hadn’t stolen the one currently hanging on the back of her bedroom door. She’d gone off to school very reluctantly, and I had the feeling that it was only the fact that Rory would be at school rather than helping film in the cottage that had got her there.
‘It’s fine. I’m going to do quite a lot to it when this is all over.’ I indicated the men and their boxes. ‘I’ve got plans.’
Keenan adjusted his glasses. ‘It’s a fabulous little place,’ he said, very genuinely. ‘I can see what attracted you to it. I’d love a place like this, little getaway in the woods. It’s quite fairy-tale, isn’t it?’
‘Well, it does look as though it was built by someone whose architecture degree came from the Brothers Grimm university,’ I said. ‘And I suspect that the structural integrity isn’t up to much huffing and puffing, but it’s fine for us.’
‘Yes, I was thinking more on the lines of skipping through woodland glades and breadcrumb trails myself, but I get your point.’ He swivelled. ‘Starting in the hallway, Neil, so we need the gear through there.’ Then back to me. ‘It’s going to get a bit crowded shortly, Katie. I don’t know if you want to hang around or…’
And so I found myself sitting outside my own back door, in the muddy orchard, on the steps to Granny Mary’s sausage-scented caravan, with Patrick’s head in my lap.
‘Very bucolic.’ Gabriel wandered out of the kitchen, carrying two mugs of tea. ‘Are you all right out here?’
‘There isn’t room for me in there.’ I took the offered mug. ‘Last time I stuck my head round the door it was so full of people it was like a clown car, and they were taking the door off the sitting room. I could only observe if I sat up the chimney.’
‘Yeah.’ He leaned against the steps and Patrick instantly defected to go and snuffle at his pockets. ‘Filming isn’t the glamorous experience people seem to think. Hence the million-page contract we made you sign. And the incredibly ugly chairs you’ve now got around your kitchen table. Never mind serial-killer cottage, those chairs are an offence against nature in their own right. By the way, I’ve transferred some money to the account details you gave me.’ He slapped lightly at Patrick’s shoulder. ‘To help cover his expenses.’
‘Thank you.’ I shivered as a chilly breeze fluttered grey clouds over the sun. The blackbird chinked its alarm call from the hedge like someone hitting a plate with a spoon.
‘We can sit in the van,’ Gabriel said. ‘Mary won’t mind. And it’s a bit nippy out here.’
‘I don’t like to,’ I said. ‘It’s a bit like going into someone else’s house when they aren’t there.’
He stared at me. ‘It’s exactly like going into someone else’s house,’ he said. ‘She lives here.’
‘But why?’ I followed him up the steps, smelling again that old fried-food smell when he opened the door; it was slightly tempered by the bowl of potpourri on the dresser, but only to the extent that the rose petals made it smell of old-lady fried food. ‘Is Granny Mary a born Romani?’
Gabriel scrunched up his face. ‘Not really. In fact, not at all, she was born in Solihull and she’s spent most of her life as a microbiologist. When she retired, all she wanted to do was travel round Britain, so she bought Patrick and the van and…’ he shrugged, ‘… the rest is a bit of an over-decorated fantasy.’
‘Wow.’ I looked around again, my view slightly jaded by the knowledge that this wasn’t so much culture as cultural appropriation.
‘Yes. I think she got most of her ideas from the Famous Five books, but I wouldn’t dare say that to Mary. She’s happy, and that’s what matters.’
I imagined a displeased Granny Mary, and fervently and silently agreed that it was best that she was kept happy.
‘And it’s not a bad way to live, roaming the countryside.’ Gabriel leaned forward to make sure that his mug went down on a coaster on the little shelf beside the built-in settle.
‘Until you get ill