Lost sight

Chapter 06 ~ Dreams & Reality

After taking a walk around inside the house, surveying rooms one by one, and even checking the stairs with the builders, they go out to see the external walls and surrounding terrain.

By the garden, behind the house, they stop to take in the scene, inhale the cold air and the things lost to time. The builders walked back to the van but they stood there in silence. A pine tree fell on the fences at the back. Some overgrown bushes took over a side hiding anything constructed under their branches. Years of wind, rain and snow have covered and worn away the rest. Only a tile and stone fountain still stands, filled with old leafs and broken bits.

- I... remember this fountain... - says Charlie walking up to the end of it.

Francis nods, Patricia looks up, Bert mumbles something and walks away, back where the car is.

- It used to have a bench... didn't it? - he asks with a dreamy voice.

Francis slowly shakes his head, he doesn't know what to say. Like Charlie he has only vague memories, like loose pages fallen from a big book. Patricia searches her pockets until finding a small box of cigarettes and a lighter. She rarely smokes but this is making her too sad.

Charlie turns to look, surprised by the smell.

Patricia points at where he is with a cigarette gently held in her fingers.

- There was a bench there, and another over there, under the rose pavilion -

Next to the fountain there are some misshapen metal bits, and at the back where she pointed it's all covered by the dead tree and the things that have grown and crept into.

Patricia smokes without enthusiasm; she hardly ever finishes a cigarettes, they normally die out in her fingers or the ashtray. Withered and forgotten, like the garden.

- It's so sad... -

The other two nod in agreement. Some laughter comes from the front of the building and echoes away.

- Do you think... we can recover it? -

- Well... - Patricia shrugs and puffs - Worse gardens have being made, I suppose... -

- And the house? -

She turns to look at the house, takes a long drag from her cigarette while considering the options, and speaks:

- Well, the foundations are intact. The core structure is there... We would have to upgrade bathrooms and kitchen, check safety of course... rebuild the whole of -

- No. Pat. -

Patricia turns to look at Francis; he very rarely address her by a nick or a pet name.

- What I mean is. - Francis speaks slowly and clearly, almost as if he were speaking to someone who's born deaf - With our very middle upper middle class, small professional civil servant kind of budget. Can we recover it? -

Patricia turns to the house to look at it again. She shakes her hand as if all of a sudden the cigarette annoyed her. She turns to look at Francis again and says with a heavy voice and sadness in her eyes:

- No. It's a big investment, it's not something a private... a handful of people can do. I don't think. -

- I see - he muses, nodding and looking down.

Patricia walks up the wall, carefully smothers the cigarette against it, let it fall and gently taps on it with a foot to make sure is completely extinguished. The last thing she wanted was starting a fire. She looks up to look around and at her cousins in turns. Charlie is sitting on the border of the fountain with his feet deep in the sea of leaves. Francis is slowly rubbing the grass with a foot, as if he wanted to wear off the green from them.

- A business maybe... or an institution. But I don't think we're in a position to... do anything about it -

Francis nods. Charlie turns around, like he had a sudden inspiration.

- Could we have a hotel or something? -

- Here? - Patricia looks around - I don't think so, no. It's far from everything, and there's nothing to see other than trees. We love it, but I can't see it being attractive to anyone else... - she looks around again and shrugs, a half spirited gesture while she looks somewhere away - not to the point of paying for it -

- Mmmmhhh... -

Charlie and Francis nod, understanding what she's saying and feeling sad for what's lost to them. Charlie then stands up, brushes his hands against his trousers to clean any mud or bits stuck to his clothes, and with newly recovered energy steps out of the fountain.

- Do you think we could sell it or...? -

- I think it's better to hand it over or donate it to some historical society... or something in those lines. If we sell we probably lose money and the new owners might flatten everything to dust -

Charlie nods agreeing and starts walking away, back to the where the cars are.

- How about the things inside? Can we sell them? - says Francis, out of the blue. Charlie stops and turns to Patricia.

- Oh... don't you... want to keep them? - she says, clearly hurt. They're suddenly reminded that she's far older than them, she actually has memories and time spent in the place, she has strong emotions about it.

- Sure, of course. But... maybe... some of it? Maybe something we don't want... or won't... use...? - Charlie's voice fades away, feeling guilty. It's easy for him or Francis to speak about finances and usefulness, they've only been here when they were children. Alexis and Daphne probably never came to this house, or if they did they were very small. Patricia on the other hand, came often, her parents were often in this house for Hogmanay and holidays.

Patricia shakes her head and starts walking.

- I don't know. We need to call a solicitor to do a thorough... inventory - she sighs, resigned - And then we can see what to do -

- Okay -

Francis starts walking too, the other two wait for him to join.

- Gran should have a voice too -

- Of course... -

They speak softly, afraid of disturbing these last moments in this place. Slowly they walk back to the front of the house, to join the parked cars and the rest of the party, hanging out... waiting for them.