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Home Sweet Home

A Short Story

by

Adrian Sturgess

Copyright 2011 AdrianSturgess

Smashwords Edition

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*****

Though the sun’s goldenrays

were mellowed by the haze

of the dream mists,

that rose up from the edge

of the chasm of night.

*****

It was abeautiful sunny day in early April and the Marigold family were ontheir way to view the house that was for sale on the outskirts ofthe small village where they had been renting a cottage for thepast two months. Mr Marigold’s employer was footing the bill forthe rented accommodation and there was pressure on the family toquickly buy their own home.

It was only ashort walk through the centre and out to the edge of the villageand under the vivid blue sky a row of terraced cottages that theypassed took on the vibrancy of a child’s painting in pink, yellowand blue.

They were allin fine mood and their mood furtherimproved when they spotted the house. It was a good-sized,detached, house with bay windows and a gabled front. Its freshwhite paintwork fairly gleamed and sparkled at them in the springsunshine.

They walked upthe front path past wonderfully manicured borders and perfectlyclipped shrubs to the big white front door, which promptly openedto reveal a middle-aged couple who beamed at them from the hallway.“So you must be Mr and Mrs Marigold, come to look at the house,well I’m Doreen Smith and this is my husband Jim and…. my oh my,what wonderful children and how old are you and what are yournames?” She stooped down and flooded them with a radiant smile,only to be rewarded with a slightly diffident shuffle of the feet.Finally Jackie composed herself enough to respond. “I’m Jackie andI’m 14 and this is my brother Ben, he’s 13.”

“Well, well what lovely names, now please do come in, no need totake off shoes, it hasn’t rained for days has it?”

The adultsexchanged pleasantries whilst the children just stood lookingaround the hallway and across through the partially opened doortowards rooms at the back of the house.

“Well go ahead and take a good look about and Jim and I will besitting out in the garden, so take your time and we’ll talk againin a little while.”

The familywandered approvingly around the house and Mrs Marigold immediatelyfell in love with the kitchen, which looked out directly onto therear garden.

“Wow, look at this, we could have a dining table in here and justlook at that lovely view out onto the rear lawn.”

Doreen and Jimcould be seen sitting side by side in deckchairs facing down thegarden and gesturing contentedly towards a group of sparrows thatflitted to and fro nearby.

Mr Marigoldmurmured his approval at the size of the kitchen but the kidshardly heard him because they were already moving ahead excitedlyto discover what surprises the rest of the house had to offer. Theylooked into the drawing room but found it a bit gloomy and notterribly interesting, before moving on to the sitting room, whichwas right at the front of the house and had a huge bay window andlong white curtains that draped down and caressed the polished oakfloor. Finally their parents caught up with them and ‘just adored’the sitting room. As they turned to leave the room, the sun sunkbehind a cloud and the room lost its warmth and colour and suddenlyseemed so unappealing that Jackie had to suppress a shiver andscurried as quickly as she could out into the hall. But the momentquickly passed and the upstairs of the house was just perfect,containing as it did 4 good-sized bedrooms, a study and therequired en-suite bathroom.

Finally thefamily stepped out into the sunshine to join the owners, who thentook them on a tour of the grounds. Mrs Smith stopped by the hightimber fence at the far end of the garden and explained that thelower road out of the village passed to the rear of the propertybut that very few cars used it and consequently it was nonuisance.

Meanwhile,Jackie and Ben had gravitated toward a large apple tree in thecorner of the garden and looked up longingly at the massive gnarledbranches, whilst day dreaming of climbing and of tree houses andapple pie and custard.

“It’s a lovely tree isn’t it.” Mrs Smith called over to them. “Weget beautiful apples in the autumn, like nothing you’ve tasted inthe supermarkets and I’m sure, if you asked him nicely your dadwould hang you a swing off that low branch.”

“Oh daddy would you?” They both called excitedly and then Ben, on abit of an opportunistic roll continued “And daddy, would you buildus a tree house too?”

Mr Marigoldsmiled politely and muttered a few non-committal words, whilstinwardly he was quite annoyed with Mrs Smith. She really hadoverstepped the mark in making such rash comments, because he knewfrom deep experience that once children got an idea fixed in theirheads, they’d work on you remorselessly until you either went mador gave in.

Mrs Smithshowed no sign that she had noticed Mr Marigold’s irritationhowever and said “Yes, we’ll miss the apples when we’re gone fromhere” and then she gave a sigh which for the briefest of momentshinted at a valley of sadness that she normally kept hidden awaybehind her cheerful facade of bonhomie.

Finally theysaid their goodbyes and the family made their way back down thefront path whilst the Smiths’ stood beaming and waving and lookingfor all the world like doting Grandparents.

On the wayback, the children skipped and jostled together excitedly whilsttheir parents walked along more serenely, holding hands anddiscussing what they had just seen. They walked in almost completesilence, their senses totally engaged in soaking up thepicture-postcard qualities of