{"id":252872,"date":"2026-07-13T02:26:08","date_gmt":"2026-07-12T23:26:08","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/1kitap1.com\/en\/a-cottage-in-the-country-katie-fforde\/"},"modified":"2026-07-13T02:26:08","modified_gmt":"2026-07-12T23:26:08","slug":"a-cottage-in-the-country-katie-fforde","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/1kitap1.com\/en\/a-cottage-in-the-country-katie-fforde\/","title":{"rendered":"A Cottage In The Country – Katie Fforde"},"content":{"rendered":"
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Almost everybody Hattie asked accepted, despite the very short notice, as she had felt sure they would. A chance to dress up to go to a house they hadn\u2019t been to before was always going to be popular, among the women at least. Sheila had reiterated that she was not impressed by the length of Hattie\u2019s guest list, insisting that she wanted her garden \u2013 and therefore her party \u2013 to be full.<\/p>\n

So as well as her close friends and the estate agents, Hattie invited a couple of local solicitors \u2013 one had been really helpful over the negotiations for Nick\u2019s house sale; Hattie was delighted that after some intense haggling his offer had been accepted \u2013 and a handyman and his wife. This couple had rescued many a local with a suddenly blocked drain, missing roof tile or mysterious damp patch, several of them Hattie\u2019s clients. This was a thank you for their assistance over the years she had been in business.<\/p>\n

Luke, however, was the only builder she asked, although he said, as he accepted the decorated card, that he was always booked for months ahead and really didn\u2019t need to do any more extensions. \u2018I\u2019d still feel disloyal if I became friends with any other builders,\u2019 she said. \u2018That\u2019s only right and proper,\u2019 he said with a smile. A couple of days before the party, Hattie went to see Mary with an invitation. She found her friend sitting in her chair, facing the garden, as usual.<\/p>\n

\u2018Hello!\u2019 she said brightly, having let herself in. \u2018I\u2019ve come to invite you to a party. It\u2019s for my birthday,\u2019 she added, giving Mary her invitation. \u2018I know it\u2019s a long shot, but if you thought you could manage it, I could bring you, and take you home. You wouldn\u2019t need to stay long if you didn\u2019t want to.\u2019 Mary took the invitation. \u2018It\u2019s very pretty. Did Rose design it for you?\u2019 \u2018Yes. She\u2019s so clever.\u2019 \u2018And remind me who Sheila is?\u2019 asked Mary, reading the details.<\/p>\n

\u2018The mother of the bride, Fiona. I told you all about it.\u2019 \u2018Oh, yes. The awful man. You were so clever to stop the wedding. So is that why she\u2019s giving you a party?\u2019 \u2018Partly. But do you want to come?\u2019 Mary shook her head.<\/p>\n

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\u2018I\u2019m fairly sure you\u2019re going to love this one, Fiona,\u2019 said Hattie as she and her clients surveyed the property they had just parked in front of. \u2018I certainly do. Not so sure about you, Lance, although the bones are all there.\u2019 Hattie, whose job \u2013 passion even \u2013 was finding houses for people, led the way round the house to the back.<\/p>\n

Behind them was a garden with borders full of delphiniums, cosmos, peonies and larkspur. Beyond that were trees with rambling roses climbing up them. A summer house was covered in wisteria which provided wafts of perfume on the breeze. Late May was Hattie\u2019s favourite time of year for gardens, and this one was sure to melt even the coldest heart. Now, she turned a big iron key.<\/p>\n

\u2018We\u2019re using the back door, which as you know is the country way. And the front door is a bit stiff.\u2019 In fact, it was completely seized up through lack of use but she didn\u2019t feel the need to share that particular piece of information. Before she opened the door, which led straight into the kitchen, she paused. \u2018The current owner is an artist, and isn\u2019t what you\u2019d describe as a minimalist.\u2019<\/p>\n

Lance would describe all the pretty things inside as clutter, but Hattie knew Fiona would love the look as much as she did herself. She didn\u2019t say any more, she just gestured for them to head in before her and let her clients take in the huge space. This was the third property she had shown them and was the one that matched their requirements the best. And although there was approximately a ten-year age gap between them, Hattie and Fiona had become friends over the last few months, meeting for coffee and a trip around the shops on a couple of occasions.<\/p>\n

She wanted Fiona to have the house of her dreams. This could be it. But only the range cooker (minus the stained orange Le Creuset casserole on top) and the double Belfast sinks could be crossed off Lance\u2019s extensive kitchen wish list straight away. As yet, there was no vast granite island, no handleless built-in cupboards, and the floor, although made out of the required golden stone flags, was uneven, shiny with age, and there was no heating underneath.<\/p>\n

Instead of the island, there was a large refectory table, scarred with use, surrounded by mismatched kitchen chairs. Instead of the fitted cabinetry, there was an ancient dresser, a huge chest of drawers and a few cupboards for storage. (Hattie would refer to at least one of them as an armoire, should she need to describe it.) The rest was open shelves, full of jugs and mugs, jars full of wooden spoons, ladles, whisks and any other conceivable kitchen utensil.<\/p>\n

Brightly painted plates, vintage biscuit tins and other kitchenalia covered every inch of the shelving.<\/p>\n<\/blockquote>\n

This is a short excerpt from the opening of “” by Unknown, quoted for review and introduction purposes. All rights belong to the copyright holders.<\/em><\/p>\n

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