A Home for Shimmer Read Free Page B

beams, ‘the beams date back to the days of our ancestors and the damp patches by the window give the place an authentic sense of history.’
    ‘
Merveilleux
,’ said Caitlin. ‘Or, as you say in English – fantabulous.’
    ‘And if you follow me, we have a cosy living room through here. The stone fireplace you can see and the heavy velvet drapes came with the house.’
    Caitlin wrinkled her nose. ‘And vot is dat smell?’
    ‘Eau de Peat. From the fire. Dad builds a real fire most nights because the house is freezing.’
    ‘
Oui
,
je comprends
. It is – how you say? – quaint?’
    ‘No. We don’t say “quaint”, we say “paint” – and the whole house needs loads, as well as a whole refurb from top to toe,’ I said.
    ‘I like it,’ said Caitlin. ‘It’s got a lot of oldie-worldie character.’
    I showed Caitlin upstairs and she followed me around commenting here and there as we went from room to room. ‘And vot are the neighbours like?’ she asked in her unidentifiable foreign accent that kept going from Russian to Indian.
    ‘Ah, the neighbours. They cluck a lot and lay eggs, apart from that, they’re no trouble,’ I said as we went downstairs and I led her outside to the side of the house to the extension that served as Dad’s clinic.
    Caitlin let out a big puff of air. ‘Look, it’s so cold I can see my breath.’
    ‘I know. I don’t remember it ever being this cold in Bristol,’ I said.
    ‘Is that why the previous owner sold up – too cold for him?’
    ‘No . . . um . . . he died – which is why the practice came up for sale. Dad used to work in a centre where there were three vets but here, it’s just him.’ We peeked in the windows of the clinic but there was nothing much to see – Dad’s office, a small waiting area with loads of posters on the wall and to the back, a room where he treated the animals. Like the house, it was run-down-looking, in need of decorating and some new furniture.
    ‘He hasn’t had a lot of work since he got here,’ I said. ‘Mrs Watson told him that’s because he’s an outsider. She said it will take time to earn the locals’ trust, and that her husband was born and went to school here so everyone knew him.’
    ‘She doesn’t sound very friendly,’ said Caitlin. ‘Though my dad’s found the same, I think. He said it takes a while for people here to let you in and that starting a new business takes time.’
    In the fields in the distance, we could see our dads chatting away. Josh was still with them. ‘Maybe our dads can be friends.’
    Caitlin turned to look. ‘Looks like they are already. Cool.’
    ‘They’re doing the fence pointing dance,’ I said as we watched them take turns in pointing at things. ‘Dad and Josh are always doing it these days. One points, one turns, another points.’
    Caitlin made up a version of the dance. Point, turn, point – then she added a knee bend, which of course I copied. ‘Looks like they’re getting on though,’ she said. ‘So where to next, Mrs Estate Agent?’
    ‘Er . . . next I’ll show you the holiday homes,’ I said and led Caitlin towards the stables.
    Caitlin looked impressed. ‘Seriously? You have holiday homes?’
    I laughed. ‘We do, mainly for small insects. Wait till you see them. Holiday homes for mice and spiders.’
    Caitlin pulled back. ‘Uck. Spiders. I don’t do spiders.’
    I went close to her and made my fingers walk up lightly up her arm and her neck. She shrieked and ran off. ‘Madame Belle Femme doesn’t like creepy-crawlies.’
    I laughed. ‘There’s a sort of tea shop in one of the barns. Want to look? Mrs Watson comes and opens it up on weekdays. She lives in a cottage at the end of the lane now but still sees this place as her territory.’
    ‘Only if there are no spiders,’ she replied.
    ‘No. Only bats in there.’
    Caitlin pulled back again. I could see she was going to be easy to wind up. When she realised I was joking, she started to mock strangle me.