Page 8 of A Year at Appleyard Farm
‘Yes, and you usually let me know. I made soup for tea, which is now stone cold, but there’s still some in the pan if you want to heat it up.’
Gareth had the grace to look a little ashamed at this. ‘Oh. Er, well, I ate at the pub, sorry.’
‘My point exactly, so please don’t come in here throwing wild accusations around.’ She glared at Gareth.
‘Anyway, I’ve got some news if you’re interested,’ added Gareth, still a little sulky, but with the beginnings of a triumphant gleam in his eyes. ‘I didn’t exactly waste my time while I was down the pub.’
‘I’ll pour some tea,’ said Freya, lifting the teapot from the middle of the table. ‘Sit down.’
Gareth dumped his work bag on a chair and rummaged around in its depths.
‘Well, for starters, I got these at lunchtime. Two of them have just been reduced and are real bargains.’ He placed a sheaf of papers on the table and pushed them towards Freya who eyed them warily. When she made no move to pick them up, Gareth rifled through them impatiently. ‘This one in particular is a real gem. Very clean and well cared for, but it’s been on the market for a while and the owners have already found a place so are desperate to sell.’
Eventually, Freya picked up the property details and scanned through them, returning to the one that Gareth had pointed out and studying it more carefully.
‘But these are all on estates.’
‘I know, they’re brilliant. Full of people the same age as us, with schools and shops nearby, and this one is just around the corner from work. It’s on that new estate just up past the business park.’
‘The gardens look very small.’
‘But you wouldn’t want a big garden, would you? Not after this place. And just think, we could move in the New Year; fresh start and all that.’
Freya sighed. ‘But that’s all supposing I can sell this place. That might take a little time.’
Gareth sat back in his chair with a triumphant grin. ‘Ah, but you see that’s the best bit. I got talking to Stephen Henderson in the pub tonight. I did a cracking deal with him. Who needs bloody estate agents, eh?’
‘Go on,’ said Freya in a low tone, her spine stiffening.
‘We got chatting, and he mentioned he’d put in an offer on the place—’
‘Yeah, I bet he did.’
‘Look, are you going to let me tell you or what! I felt a bit of a tit, to be honest, seeing as I didn’t even know he’d been to see the place, or put in an offer.’
Freya remained silent.
‘Anyway, never mind that now. He’s really keen to get this deal under wraps, so we had a bit of a chat. I know you turned his offer down flat, and he doesn’t blame you for that, but all he needed was a bit of buttering up. Honestly, Freya, I would have thought you’d realise that. I bought him a few drinks and we chatted a bit more and…what do you think of this…he’s agreed to come up another ten grand on the asking price, and…’ he paused here for effect, leaning in towards Freya with a grin, ‘provided we can get the sale though quick, he’ll give us twenty-five thousand in cash on the side.’
‘No,’ said Freya flatly.
Gareth’s mouth hung open for a moment. ‘What do you mean, no? It’s a bloody good deal, only fifteen grand lower than the asking price. We’ll have a wodge of cash in the bank to spend as we like and can buy a house outright with no mortgage. Think of how much money we’ll have every month not having to fork out on the enormous bills we have here.’
‘I said no, Gareth.’
‘Oh, for God’s sake,’ he hissed. ‘Will you get over yourself with that bloody man? I’ve got us a brilliant deal, and you’re being stubborn because you don’t like him. His money’s as good as anyone else’s, Freya, and you’re not going to get another deal.’
Freya’s nostrils flared. ‘Firstly, you don’t know I’m not going to get another deal, and secondly what I do about this place is very much my decision, seeing as this is my house.’
‘Oh well, thanks a bunch, that’s bloody gratitude for you. I’m trying to do the best for us, and you throw it straight back in my face. At least I’m trying to do something constructive, not wallowing in self-pity about this stupid house, which, I might add is a noose around our necks.’
Freya risked a glance at Amos, knowing how awkward this must be for him. ‘It’s a noose aroundmyneck, Gareth, not yours. And while we’re on the subject, let’s just look at everything you’re doing forus. Let’s look at the hours you’ve put into this place, helping me to keep it going. Let’s look at the help you’ve given me with the harvest, or selling my fruit, or even just getting the mistletoe ready for the sales. A big fat zero, Gareth, that’s what. I might not be able to stay in this house, but all I was asking for was a bit of support and understanding of how I feel, instead of trying to ship me out to some soulless brick box. This perfect vision you have for our future, Gareth, is all about you; it’s your dream, and you’ve never considered for one moment how I feel, or what I want.’
‘But I’m doing this foryou, you stupid cow. I’m trying to save you from yourself if you’d only stop and listen. You’re so bloody blinkered about this place, you won’t think beyond the end of your nose. I haven’t put the hours in on this place, as you so charmingly put it, because I can see it would be flogging a dead horse and only encourage you. I want a future for us, Freya, but you’re frittering away everything we have, and if you carry on, we’ll lose the best opportunity we’ve ever had too.’
Freya’s hands were clenching and unclenching in her lap. ‘The best opportunityyou’veever had you mean. You’ve never contributed financially to this place, but you’d be very happy for me to sell up and feather your nest with a nice little mortgage-free house. Well played, Gareth, well played.’
Gareth snatched back the estate agent’s brochures from the table. ‘So is that what it all comes down to in the end, Freya, your money? In my book that’s not what a true partnership is all about.’ He lurched up from the table, his face beetroot. ‘Keep your bloody money. I hope you’ll be very happy.’
