Changing Seasons. Winter, part 2

Winter, Part 2 “Is the stove okay?”
“Yes. The things you make always do work. Can you put the kids to bed please? I can’t exactly turn this down to simmer. I need to keep stirring it.” And the next day: “The toilet’s blocked. Can you sort that out? And maybe clear away those plants. I keep getting scratched.”
So did he, now that he thought about it. In some rather personal places. That might be a good idea. As soon as he could though. Lachlan headed for the workshop. That sewing machine should be a nice, simple job. As long as there were no broken parts. Hopefully, it would be about cleaning, oiling, sanding off some rust…He set to work. “Go out and find out some more about where we’re living.”
Lachlan picked a different road this time. He’d have to face the gossipy shopkeeper tomorrow, he supposed. It was actually sort of nice being outside, but the place was so quiet! He still hadn’t found out where everyone lived. He spotted a church though – that was always a sign of civilisation. Nobody built churches miles away from anyone. But the churchyard – and the church – looked as neglected as everywhere else. Still, he might as well look round inside, if he could. He pushed the door and it opened with surprising ease. He stepped inside and looked round. “Well?” said a decidedly acidic voice behind him. “Do you usually barge into people’s homes without so much as a by-your-leave?” Lachlan spun round, his heart thumping with shock. And what he saw didn’t slow his heart-rate down any either. “H-homes?”
“Yes.” The voice was a tart as ever. “I live here, in case you hadn’t worked that one out for yourself yet. The big question is, what are you doing here? Well, don’t just stand there like the cat’s got your tongue. Explain yourself, young man.”
But Lachlan turned and fled. Marianna had already fallen asleep before they’d even got the last baby - Mason - into his crib. That had been the weirdest encounter. Had he imagined it? A yelling child – make that three yelling children, and the fourth would probably join in any second now – a cold fireplace, and the equally cold light of day. Last night must have been some sort of hallucination. This was reality. Mason and Fletcher seemed to be having a competition to see who could yell the loudest. Fletcher was winning at the moment. “Lachlan, pick a child and deal with it,” Marianna called from over by the fireplace, where she was coaxing the fire into life. “I’ll be over in a minute or two.” “Okay, you’ve got the shopping list. Don’t fall off that bike! I need you in one piece. See if you can find anything else out about this place. One shop and one ruined church – there has to be more. Ask the shopkeeper. You said she likes to talk – well, let her. And listen! Don’t switch off.” He went via his workshop to pick up the sewing machine. He’d definitely better not fall off his bike! He didn’t want to damage his careful handiwork. The machine looked and ran so much better now. “Well now, that looks amazing. Patience will be so pleased. And I’m real thankful to you as well. You need any shopping?”
“Yes. What was it? Oh, my wife gave me a list anyway.”
“Baby food? So you and your wife have got a little one? Patience and Euan have triplets, would you believe? How she manages, I’ll never know. Have you found the laundromat yet? Just down the road a little. We did it up special for Patience and Euan. Here, I’ll knock a bit off your bill as a thank you for doing up that sewing machine…” She knocked quite a lot off actually.
“Have to charge you something, or my daughter will say I’m being unbusinesslike. She runs a gallery over in Newboro – folk art, modern art, local crafts. Does nicely too…” Eventually, Lachlan got out of the shop. But he did remember to check out the Laundromat. One washer, one dryer, but Minnie had said they did both work. He must try to remember to tell Marianna. He was tired of wet washing all over the place. Lachlan had escaped to his workshop again. To be fair, he had helped to get the children up and fed. His excuse was that he could make another shelf. Actually, he’d made a little working model instead – the sort of thing he’d loved doing once upon a time. Before the children. Before he’d had to take that soul-destroying job, so that they could pay rent to Marianna’s aunt. Who despised him, and made no bones about showing it. Marianna came out to find him.
“Lunch is ready.” She spotted the little sculpture.
“That’s nice. I wish we had some gallery contacts.”
“Why?”
“To sell it, of course.”
“Oh.” Lachlan paused. “Minnie says her daughter runs a gallery…”
“I’ll go and talk to her. Better me than you. Can you go back inside and watch the children. Don’t leave them on their own.” Marianna picked up the little sculpture carefully. “Now, Lachlan.” “But what do I do with four children?”
“Well, you could try talking to one of them…” had been Marianna’s parting suggestion.
So he was talking to one of them, telling Mason about his next idea. “The crucial bit is getting the tension on the wires just right. Tension and length of course…”
Oh yes, he had to feed them as well. It was probably time now. Marianna came home as he was doing just that.
“She took your little sculpture. She says it should sell. She told me loads of stuff.”
I bet, thought Lachlan.
“There’s a library with some children’s books. The key’s under the plant pot by the door. We’ll get charged gallery fees if your sculpture sells, but it cost next to nothing to make, so that’s okay. You can take one of the children to the library tomorrow, then I only have three to look after at once.” The key wasn’t under the plant pot for the simple reason that there were people in the library! One young man, deep in a book… …and one young woman and a baby. Patience and Euan McPhail? But Minnie had said they had triplets. Maybe there was a baby-sitting service. Not that he’d be able to afford it, but Marianna had sounded rather pointed about only having three children to look after. “I’m Euan M-McPhail, and that’s m-my son, B-Barnabas. N-nice to m-meet you.” Euan was as shy as himself, Lachlan realised. Minnie had been a bit frightening, but Euan was totally unthreatening. Lachlan responded easily.
“Lachlan McGowan. And this is Fletcher.”
“He l-looks l-like you. This is Annette Summer, our n-nearest n-neighbour.” “Nice to meet you.” So she wasn’t Patience, who presumably was at home with the other two.
“Marcus and I, we farm the old Winter place. We heard you’d moved into the old forge – we’d have dropped off some fresh veg for you, except that there’s nothing growing at the moment. Come the spring though…” This was kind of nice, Euan realised, as he sat reading to Fletcher. The room was peaceful. Barnabas began to fuss a little, and Annette put down her book and played with him.
“Thanks, Annette,” Euan said, nose still in a book called, as far as Lachlan could tell, How To Restore Old Stonework.
“It’s not a problem playing with you, is it gorgeous?” Annette said to the baby. “How old’s Fletcher?” she added.
“Two and a half,” Lachlan replied briefly, and went back to the story. “It’s b-been n-nice m-meeting you. I hope we b-bump into each other again.”
Lachlan was almost sorry to leave the library, but he had been gone for a while.
“I’ll probably be back here quite often.”
“C-come and d-drop in on us if you can. It’s a b-bit of a m-mess, but P-P-Patience will b-be fine with that.” Euan went on to stammer out some directions.
“Yes, I know the old church. I’ve been there.” And I’m still not sure if I had a hallucination or what, but I need to go back again and find out. Visiting you will be a good excuse. Lachlan woke early the next day, well before everyone else. Last time he’d gone to the church it had been getting dark. He’d go out now in the cold light of day and lay that ghost.

This family and build is by AlphaFen. Want to try them for yourself? Link here:
https://www.thesims3.com/assetDetail.html?assetId=9310543