Page 129 of Fix Them Up
He’d created the dining nook I’d added to my board one day without a second thought. I’d loved it, but I’d figured it was a pipe dream. Now, it was in front of me. I wanted to sob. It was so beautiful. Liam told me that Sandra had spent hours painting it in Farrow and Ball’s Railings, the dark blue complementing the soft, almost pink kitchen cabinets.
‘She wanted it to be perfect,’ Liam said.
The bathroom we designed months ago was installed upstairs. The first design, not the pared-back one. A vintage dresser held the sink, making the rustic tiles and the soft blue wood panelling on the walls pop.
‘What – what did you do with all the other fittings?’
‘I donated them,’ Liam said with a grimace. ‘A bloody field day at the club. People bartering over a bloody bathroom tap.’
A laugh burst out of me, and Liam’s lips twitched. He ran his hand over the bathroom dresser.
‘As promised.’
‘As pinkie promised.’
My eyes met Liam’s, and I tried to show him what this meant to me, how much I appreciated it. He raised a thumb to my cheek.
‘I wanted to see this, what you created.’
My eyes burned with tears. ‘Thank you. Thank you so much. It’s beautiful.’
‘There is one more thing.’
‘Liam. I can’t take anymore.’ I shoved my head into his chest. ‘I might combust.’
Liam’s chest shook with laughter. ‘One more, that’s it. You aren’t getting anything else for the year.’
I pulled back, pouting. ‘Not even a Christmas present?’
‘Maybe your present will be me.’ Liam kissed my lips, his tongue stroking mine.
My hands began to roam until he pulled them off him, and I groaned. He grinned.
‘Come on, I can’t wait.’
‘Neither can I,’ I muttered as Liam led me downstairs.
In the kitchen, Liam opened the French doors onto the garden. The most extravagant Wendy house I’d ever seen sat at the end of a new stone path. Liam had painted it a soft pale green, and it had a little porch with two rocking chairs. The windows and doors were real and solid, not just made of timber and plastic.
Tears formed now and ran down my cheeks silently.
‘I took a look at your dad’s plans. I couldn’t do everything in them – he had a lot of ideas. But if we wanted, we could extend into the loft next year with Jack’s help.’
Liam opened the doors and turned on the lights, and I suppressed a sob.
A huge rustic wooden desk sat in the middle of the room on a large rug. On the wall hung a huge pinboard, and pinned to it were samples I’d ordered for the house months ago. Samples that now made up the cushions and wallpaper of the house behind me.
Next to them, my dad’s draft plans for the house were on display, too.
A craft table and an easel with paint supplies were on the other side.
‘This is for your interior design projects, but I found out you liked to paint watercolours when you were younger,’ Liam said, his deep voice filling the room, ‘so I ordered you some paints.’
‘How –’
‘I asked Graham. I got his number from Brian, and he seemed more pleased to hear from me than your mum had been. Hepromised not to say anything to her. He sounded like he was living out his spy fantasies.’
‘Why – why did you do this?’
