“Okay, first, architects know shit all about building,” he chuckled as he spoke. “See here? We have a kitchen at the front of the building. That’s great; you want the living at the back. But up here…?” he pointed to the en suite. “We’ll need to get the plumbing from mid-house to the front, to line up with kitchen. Of course, it’s totally possible but adds to the budget. And if your guest needs to pee in the night, they have to come downstairs, or traipse through your bedroom.”
He took the pen from my hand. “You want a guest bedroom, so how about the kitchen is in the middle of the house? You have your dining area one side and your living the other. You have windows at the front and back of the barn, that’s enough light for downstairs. Upstairs, we have two bedrooms, both en suite.”
He scribbled on the plans as he spoke.
“Can we do that?” Dad asked.
Miller looked up, his smile and the wrinkles that appeared around his dark blue eyes were mischievous. “We can do what we like, for now. The council may have other ideas, of course.”
I reached for the pen. Why didn’t the architect think of that?
“Most have never even put up a shelf! What he’s done here is what you asked, of course, but with no thought of logistics. I used to be one, so I know how they work,” he said.
You were an architect? I wrote.
“Yep, for a short time, but creating something has always been my passion.”
“Miller was highly recommended,” Dad said.
“I don’t just build houses, Dani, I create homes. You have to live here; it has to work for you without compromise, if possible. I can take you to some of my clients so you can see what I’ve done. What your architect has given you is okay, but with just a little more thought, or knowledge, it could be amazing.”
Can you draw new plans?
“If you want me to, of course,” Miller said.
I looked over to Dad who nodded. Okay, can you do that for me, please? Then we need to submit them, I wrote.
“Of course, I can submit them on your behalf, if you want me to. But don’t make a decision until I’ve priced it up. You might not like my price,” he laughed as he spoke.
The sensible thing would be to get new plans, then three quotes from various builders but for some reason, I trusted Miller already. He hadn’t made a deal about my lack of speech, he hadn’t tried to exclude me from conversation, and he hadn’t been fazed at all by me.
“Do you want to show me around?” he asked, looking directly at me.
I slowly nodded, picking up the pad and pen and shoving them in my cardigan pocket.
“I’ll make another cup of tea and bring it over,” Dad said, giving me a nod of encouragement.
I hesitated, unsure why at first. “We can always wait for the tea, Alistair,” Miller said, addressing my dad.
Miller has picked up on my hesitancy and that had me warm to him further. I smiled and gestured with my hand for him to lead the way.
Within a minute, I’d wished I’d picked up a jacket. I pulled the cardigan tighter around me, wondering how the heck Miller could stand the chill in just a t-shirt. He must have seen the shiver that ran over me. He headed to his truck and returned with a worn leather jacket, the kind a biker might wear, and a spray can.
“Here,” he said, as he draped it around my shoulders. I gave a nod of thanks.
Miller talked as we walked around the building. He sprayed where the side windows would be to give me a visual of their position. He would speak, and then make a point to look at me, waiting for my written answer. I fished in my jeans pocket for the key to the padlocked door. It creaked as I pulled it open. Miller scanned the wall for a light switch. When Dad and I had driven to the cemetery, I’d waited outside for him to reverse the car out. I hadn’t been inside the barn since I was a teenager.
“Wow, look at those beams, Dani,” Miller had placed his hand on my arm to gain my attention. “Please tell me we’re keeping those.”
I looked up, following his gaze. Dark oak beams crisscrossed the ceiling above us.
“I have an idea.” The excitement in his voice had me smiling. “Why not have an upside down house? Put the bedrooms down here and your living space up there. That way you not only get the view of the cliffs and the sea but those beams, as well.”
For the first time in a while, I felt a bubble of happiness explode in my stomach. It startled me, if I was honest. It was too soon to be happy about anything, wasn’t it? However, I found myself nodding and reaching for the pad and pen.
I love that idea, I wrote.
“I’ll take some measurements, then draw up some new plans. Probably take me a couple of days, but I have a job to finish before I can start on them, is that okay?”
Of course, thank you.
“I’ll get new drawings over to you as soon as I can, and use them to get other quotes in, okay?”
I nodded as I replaced my pad and pen. Miller took a walk around, pacing out and mumbling to himself. Just as Dad arrived with fresh tea, he headed to his truck, returning with a tape measure, a pad and pencil, and a camera. We watched while he measured, sketched, and photographed every aspect of the barn. He prodded walls, beams, kicked at the dusty floor and rattled the frame.
“There’s a lot of wood here we can reuse, some of the structural beams might need to be replaced though, that one is rotted through,” he said, as he took his tea from Dad.
He explained to Dad how he thought an upside down house might work better, and it pleased me to see that he would shift his gaze to me, to keep me in the conversation.
Miller left shortly after and Dad and I locked up. I threaded my arm through his and we walked back into the warmth of the house. It was as I listened to Miller’s truck leave the drive that I realised I still wore his jacket.
Chapter Seven
I felt conflicted. I was excited about the build and that didn’t feel right. It hadn’t been that long ago that my world had been torn apart, thrown off its axis. I sat on my chair in my bedroom, looking at Miller’s jacket hanging on the back of the door. I liked him, not in a sexual way, I felt comfortable around him. I picked up my pad and pen.
Lincoln,
I met a builder yesterday; he came up with some wonderful ideas for converting Dad’s workshop. It’s a barn sitting next door and I plan to live in it. I asked my brother to put my house up for sale; I have no intention of going back to London.
I don’t know how long the planning process is, and what with Christmas just around the corner, I doubt this will start until some time in the new year but I feel excited about it. And guilty. Should I feel excited? How long should I mourn? How long should I grieve? It has only been about ten months, or so, and whether this is rational or not, I feel I’m letting them down by making this move. It’s as if I’m moving on with my life, yet they never can.
Dad and I have decided to have a quiet Christmas this year. Just us. It made me sad, to be honest. Normally, each year he alternated between Christian and me but he, we, haven’t been invited this year. I get the feeling they don’t want me around, or rather, they don’t want my misery around, and I’m starting to feel a little bitter about that. Is bitter better than the sadness?
I did tell Dad that he should call them, ask what their plans were. I’d love for him to go, and if I’m not invited, then so be it. I’ll stay home. I know Dad wouldn’t go without me but I don’t understand what’s happening. I want to write Christian a letter; I think I’ll be able to explain how he and Helen are making me feel by trying to ‘do the right thing.’
Do you have plans for Christmas? I should look online and order a few presents. I’m trying real hard to get into the spirit of things for Dad’s sake, more than mine. Who knows how many Christmases we’ll have left together.
Do you wonder that, Lincoln? How long do we actually have? I see inspirational posts on social media, people saying, ‘live each day as if it’s your last.’ But that’s not realistic. Real life doesn’t always allow it. I’m getting morbid now.
I started to draw again; it was something I’d enjoyed as a teen. I’m not particularly good but I find it relaxing.
Have you moved back home already? I hope, if you have, it wasn’t painful for you. I hope you had the chance to smile, maybe laugh a little as you thought of Anna.
Hope to hear from you soon,
Dani.