Changing Seasons. Autumn V, part 2

Autumn V, part 2 “Mmm, coffee. The smell brought me down.”
“You’re up and dressed early,” Molly said, blinking the sleep out of her own eyes.
“I know. I couldn’t sleep – no, the bed was fine – with the excitement of being here, where Grandpa Geo grew up, the place all his childhood stories were about…” Georgie Rivers came over and joined Molly at the table.
“I want to go everywhere, see everyone and everything! But I think I need to start with checking out Grandpa Geo's old house. Is that okay with you? I don’t want you to feel like I’m treating your house like a hotel.” “Of course it is. Come back when you’re hungry, or beg a meal from someone – no-one will mind you asking. And everyone’s been looking forward to meeting you. A new person is a Big Event round here, you know.” “Make sure you have a good breakfast before you go, though.”
Bess came into the kitchen wide awake, dressed, and firing on all cylinders.
“I’m making pancakes, so you can get yourself round some of those. And there’s cereal too, and toast and home-made preserves…You’ll be doing a lot of cycling today.”
Molly smiled fondly at her mother-in-law. “I’ll go get dressed then, and leave Georgie in your capable hands.” But before Molly headed off into the bathroom, she did what she did every morning now – relaxed on the bed for ten minutes, enjoying her beautiful bedroom. No planning, no mulling over problems. Just letting herself enjoy the transformation, the peace, the this-is-my-home-ness of the room. Bess had been so right to insist that they did this next. It made her day so much better. And she loved the bathroom too. The child-free bathroom! The no-grubby-fingerprints-on-the-towels bathroom. John was pretty keen on it too, especially the no-children-bursting-in-unexpectedly aspect of it. “Yay! Pancakes!” Janet said, slipping in to her seat. Georgie was taking Bess’s advice and starting with toast.
“Yes, and that table won’t lay itself, so suppose you go and make a start on that,” Bess said, flipping a pancake neatly.
“It’s Richard’s turn!” It was, too. “Bess says, ‘Them pancakes ain’t going to improve on keeping, so why don’t you come inside and get some breakfast in you.’ I think she means right now.”
Molly laughed. “I might well do that. I was just checking my bike tyres – you’re welcome to use it, as I won’t need it today. And then I realised that the tomatoes were ripe and needed picking, and wilting and needed watering…Enjoy yourself!” This was Grandpa Geo’s old house? It didn’t look like the place of his childhood stories. In fact, it looked really depressing. I’m not sure I can start with this, Georgie thought. So what else is on the list? “You’ll want to go and visit Clara,” Bess had said. “I reckon the two of you’ll probably get along just fine. You’ll find her house no problem – it’s Tom Tench’s old house, just round the corner from your Grandpa’s house. The painted and fixed up one, with the flowers at the front of it.”
“Hey, that’s some rug,” Georgie said, her eye caught by it as soon as she stepped inside.”
“Yep. I’m the town childminder, in case you didn’t know. But not today, so I’m longing for some adult conversation. Tell me all about why you’re here! Every detail, please…”
“It’s quite a long story…”
“I have rations. And tea and coffee. And lunch if we need it.”
Bess was right – Georgie found herself warming to Clara straight away.
“Well. My Grandpa Geo grew up here…” “It was really nice of you to invite me to stay here…”
“Hey, no problem! Janet gets her bed back, I get company, you’re way closer to your Grandpa Geo’s house. Mind you, you don’t get Bess’s amazing pancakes. I can make them, but not on a work morning.”
The two of them had talked through most of Saturday and then on Sunday Clara had cycled over and suggested that she put Georgie up instead.
“But she’s helping us with the weeding,” Janet had protested. “And Richard only snores a bit.”
“I’ll finish this weeding with you first,” Georgie promised.
“Brilliant,” Clara said. “Can I use your phone, Molly, to borrow a spare bed from Marcus and Annette?” “That’s my namesake you’ve got there. Clara Anne. And this is her older sister, Mary. They both belong to Marcus and Annette, who have the vineyard I was telling you about. As Annette says, she gets a lot more done with only one child at home instead of three. Clara Anna has a twin sister…”
“Oh my. I can see that three toddlers at once could be quite a handful.”
“Euan and Patience have six children – triplets twice.”
“Is there something in the water round here?” “I think I’ll go and see Tom Tench first. Then I’ll come back here and take a good look at that house. I’ll feel brave by then.”
“Give Old Tench my love,” Clara said. “Well, well, well. Ole Geo Rivers’ granddaughter. Ain’t thought of him for years and now here you are, sittin’ next to me. What’s the ole rascal been up to these past years?” “And so, after all he did for us when Dad was so sick, for so long…we all owe him so much. And I’m the one of us who’s most footloose and fancy-free, so I said I’d come here, have a look around, see how the house is looking – and if he wants to come back here, then I’ll come too for a bit, to keep an eye on him, get him settled in, give him a hand…” “You ain’t said what you do for a livin’.”
“I’m a journalist…”
“Can’t abide journalists! Not a decent bone in their bodies, the lot of ‘em…”
“I’ll tell Grandpa Geo that,” Georgie said demurely, amused by Tom Tench’s look of disgust. “That you don’t think I’ve got a decent bone in my body…” “You know I wasn’t talkin’ ‘bout you…”
“But I’m still a journalist,” Georgia said firmly. “I like finding stories that are worth telling. Or re-finding stories that have been lost. If we lose our stories, we lose who we are.”
A silence fell between then, broken by Old Tench saying, “You might be right there too. Since folks have started comin’ back, I’ve found a heap of stories I’d clean forgotten ‘n I’m better for it.”
“Are the newspaper offices still here? Grandpa Geo said the building was worth seeing.” “I’ll take you there, iffen you like. Now’s fine by me. Ain’t got nothin’ planned for today.”
“Great. And you can tell me just why you called Grandpa Geo an old rascal. In all the stories he tells us, he’s positively saintly…I need some ammunition to get back at him.”
“Well, there was the time Miss Kirk asked us all to go find some autumn leaves for the class display…” “Wow. That is quite fancy for a small town newspaper office.”
“Iffen you go over to the other side and take a look at the old Dunbarton factory, you’ll be seein’ a likeness. Stuart Dunbarton, he founded the newspaper way back when. Said a town needed its newspaper for its births, marryin’s and deaths and all them bits in between too.”
“Stories,” Georgie said softly. “My kind of reporting.” And then, aloud, “How do we get in? Or can’t we?”
“Follow me,” Old Tench said. “That Clara, she’s found her way into just ‘bout every buildin’ round here and this one ain’t no exception. Never did ask her how come she was so good at doin’ that…” Georgie laughed with him.
“This here was the old printin’ shed afore they put the new press in downstairs. But then that company took over the paper – forced the owners into sellin’ by not givin’ them any advertisin’, so I heard – promisin’ to keep it goin’. Only the very next week the press ‘broke down’ and they never fixed it. Said it was only worth breakin’ up for scrap and wouldn’t let no-one else take a look at it to see iffen it could be mended.”
“I really don’t like what I’ve heard about this company so far.” “Hey, that’s a Campbell!” Georgie said, looking at the rusty old printing press they were passing.
“They don’t make ‘em like that anymore,” Old Tench agreed. “Through there,” he went on, pointing at the door ahead of them. “That’s where the action useter be.” “This here was the newsroom. Never was more ‘n the editor plus one cub reporter, but folks would send stuff in. I remember my Mary getting’ a poem published one time when she was just ten. My, but she was proud as punch.”
As Old Tench went on talking, Georgie gained a picture of what the local paper had been like – a once-a-week paper full of local news, celebrating the good things and commiserating with the bad. If Grandpa Geo does decide to come here, she thought, I know what I want to do… “Good day then?” Clara asked, coming in from her I-need-to-stretch-my-legs run.
“So interesting! I’m writing stuff down before I forget it. This town is full of amazing stories.”
“Watch it. You’re already beginning to sound like a girl who wants to stay.”
“Worrying, isn’t it? I’m going to have to get that house and garden tidied up so that I can send Grandpa Geo some appealing pictures. Next time I’m in Newborough…”
“You can always write to him though. Drop the letter off with Minnie and she’ll mail it from her local postbox.” “Now you really look like you belong here,” Clara said as she headed for the bathroom Georgie had just vacated. “Everyone round here has an outfit like that. Some of us live in them…”
“I figured I’d be needing this when I packed to come here, if only for cleaning. You said Minnie sells cleaning stuff, didn’t you?”
“Cleaning stuff, gardening stuff, decorating stuff – you name it, she sells it.”
“I know where I’ll be going as soon as I’ve measured up then.” “Clara’s home looks really nice,” Georgie told herself. “With some serious work, I can get this one to look good too. Come on, girl, you can do this. Let’s work out how much paint we’re going to need. Where’s that tape measure Clara lent me?”

89, Barfell Road.

89, Barfell Road. “Hey, sis, call me when you’ve got a mo. Shift starts at 7.”
She’d do that right after her gym session. Bertie must have a fairly major reason! Maybe he’d finally found a girlfriend! “It’s me. Smelling slightly, so I’m hiding up a corner, but I figured I’d better phone you before I had a shower or you’d be off to work. So what’s new?”
“I don’t really want to say over the phone. Can we meet up at the weekend, Trixie?”
“I’ll get the train over to Grandma’s then…”
“No! No, let’s meet up somewhere else. Somewhere further away. There’s a great second-hand store I found in Ackney-upon-Sherne last time I was there, and it’s on a bus route for you too. Two o’clock in the second-hand shop?”
“Yes, but where is it?”
“11, High Street. On the island. I’ll send you a link. See you on Saturday.” This absolutely had to be a girl! Trixie knew her brother’s voice pretty well, and this was his full-of-important-news voice. Maybe the girl worked in the second hand shop… “Hey, you’re wearing the purple Doc Martens Grandma and I gave you last Christmas!”
“You bet! I love them. One of my best Christmas presents ever. Nice to see your ugly mug again.” “You were right about me liking this shop! It’s brilliant! Can we have a proper browse?”
“After I’ve told you what I wanted to talk about. I want your full attention first.”
“Oh, very well then. Seeing as it’s you…” So who was the girl? “It’s about Grandma…”
“She’s not ill, is she?” Trixie’s voice suddenly sharpened, and Bertie had the full attention he’d been asking for.
“No. Well, not physically, but she’s doing it again.” “Shoplifting? Stealing? Is anyone threatening to prosecute?”
“No. Not yet. I’ve played the dotty old lady card a couple of times, and some of the local shops are wise to her and just keep a beady eye on her, so they tell me. ‘She’s such a nice lady, your grandma, and you’re such a good grandson to her…’ But I can’t keep an eye on her all the time. I do have a job…for what it’s worth.”
“Should I move in as well?”
“And where would you sleep? In the bath? I’ve bagged the couch.”
“Um. This had come on since Grandpa died, hasn’t it?” “Or got worse. I think maybe she was always a bit like this, but Grandpa kept a lid on it, stopped her, watched over her…”
“Like he used to watch over us?” “Remember how he actually sat and listened to you when you were learning to play that guitar they bought you for your fifteenth birthday?”
“I thought if I learnt to play the guitar, I’d be seen as the cool dude instead of the nerdy kid with glasses. Then Alicia Robertson made it very clear that I could never be cool…but Grandpa still listened.” “I remember him teaching me how to handle a kitchen knife safely, when I was in my cooking phase. He always encouraged us to try new things, didn’t he?”
“Yes. And Grandma was always up for board games, trips to the park – anything fun and funny.” “We need to think of something!” Bertie was emphatic.
“They did a good job of bringing us up after Mum and Dad died. We owe them. And Grandpa would be so pleased to know we were looking out for Grandma.” They checked out the local library while they were there – “I never met a library I didn’t like,” Trixie said – and sat down to a game of chess for old time’s sake.
“What can we do?” Trixie said, half her mind on the chess board and half on her grandmother.
“Get her away from the temptations?” Bertie suggested. “Go and live in the middle of nowhere, you mean? You, me and Grandma?” Trixie said thoughtfully, moving her queen up the board in a rather menacing way.
“She’d love to live in the country again,” Bertie admitted. “And it’s not as if she’s in the house we all lived in together any more. This house doesn’t have any memories of Grandpa in it.” “But how would we find somewhere else?”
“I did see a programme about buying places at auction.” Trixie’s queen was still threatening far too many of his pieces. “We could look into that…And ask Grandma what she thinks. No point in doing anything unless she’s up for it.” “Hey, Grandma, are you okay?”
“I’m just having a little rest, my dear. It’s been a bit of a busy day, one way and another. But I got the cases down from the loft myself, ready to start packing. I feel doubly proud.”
Their grandmother had been totally up for moving, very enthusiastic about the whole auction process – and had even found a private buyer for her little house, which had saved quite a bit in estate agent’s fees.
“That’s pretty impressive, getting those cases down. Why doubly proud? Because you got them down without falling off the ladder?”
“Oh no. Doubly proud because I found us a house! I went back to that auction we went to the other week and there was this place that I knew would be just perfect…” “It will be so nice to have fresh country air again, and some better views…”
What had she bought?
Where was it?
Would he and Trixie be able to find work?
“It’s in the Lake District – Albert and I had such lovely holidays there – so there’ll be kitchen work at the hotels and cafés: you shouldn’t have any problems finding work. There was a dear little cottage right in the middle of nowhere on the North York moors, but I knew that wouldn’t do for you and Trixie…”
Phew.
“Trixie should be able to find shop work at least to start with: she’s done plenty of that. And the place is a nice size – we could always do B&B if we wanted to, maybe…”
Okay, the location sounded sensible. Good old Grandma. But what about the house? “Tell me about the house.”
“Oh, I knew it was the right one. By the name. It’s called Bertram’s Row. A little bit of my Albert’s name and all of yours.”
Well, they were committed now. Bertie knew how these auctions worked. And it was Grandma’s money funding the move: why shouldn’t she choose the house? The location sounded promising, and neither he nor Trixie had any objections to getting out the dreary towns they were both living in. “Oof, that’s better,” Trixie said as she relaxed into the passenger seat and let Bertie take a turn driving. “I know it was more expensive, putting us both on the hire car insurance, but I don’t think I’d have wanted to drive all the way.”
“Mmm,” Bertie agreed, focussing on the unfamiliar feel of the car. “You okay in the back there?”
“Oh yes,” their grandmother said. They’d packed what they’d need for tonight in case the van got held up – toilet roll, light bulbs, a change of clothes and the really precious items. The rest was coming up in “…Ferdy’s van – so nice of him to say he’d take everything up for us…”
“I hope it’s had its MOT,” Bertram had muttered. “That van’s held together with chewing gum and duct tape.” “You did remember the insurance, didn’t you, Grandma?” Trixie asked a couple of hours later. They were well north now – the hills were higher, the landscape emptier and the first of the lakes were beginning to appear.
“Insurance?”
“Yes. That thing I kept reminding you about for goods in transit.”
“Oh yes. I phoned the number you gave me and spoke to a very nice lady about it – but it did seem expensive for such a short trip…”
Bertie and Trixie both sighed internally. “Almost there,” Trixie said, looking up from the map. It was a bit further from the nearest town that she would have liked – I’m going to get fit, cycling to and from work, she thought – but the scenery was gorgeous. “Next house on the left that we see.”
“Houses plural,” their grandmother piped up. “Three of them – old slate-miner’s cottages. Number 1 belonged to the manager. That’s why I thought the B&B idea would work: it would be easy for us to live separately. Or we could turn one of them into a holiday let: that’s a good source of income round here. Here, Trixie, let me give you the keys.”
Okay, Trixie thought, she might have forgotten the insurance, but this is a really practical plan.
“I reckon we could be ready by spring…” their grandmother went on. Bertie parked the car carefully off the narrow road – he didn’t want it to get scratched by some passing tractor – and they climbed out, more than a little stiff from the journey and walked up to the houses.
“Wait a minute. Is this the right place? It can’t be.”
Their grandmother was uncharacteristically silent.
“It is,” Trixie said, going closer, spotting an ancient and weather-beaten sign where the letters ‘B---r-m’s R-w’ could just be seen. The keys were in her back pocket – numbers 1, 2 and 3 all carefully labelled. The key turned in the lock of number 1 with some effort and Trixie walked inside. “I’ve found a kitchen,” Bertie called. “It’s a bit al fresco.” “I’ve found a bathroom,” Trixie said.
At least we brought toilet roll with us, she thought, a little hysterically. I’ll put some in here right now. Their grandmother wasn’t saying anything. “Oh my dears, I am so sorry…” She was visibly distressed, and Trixie and Bertram’s love for her rose up fiercely.
“Grandma, we can sort this. Once your furniture arrives, it will be so much better. We can clean, decorate – just live in this house until we sort the rest out. Don’t worry. We’ll make this work.” Brother and sister exchanged a long meaningful look as their grandmother’s phone rang and she moved over to answer it. We can’t let her down, the look said. But this isn’t going to be easy. The two of them were just heading out to unpack the car, when they heard what their grandmother was saying.
“Maggie, no! Was Ferdy hurt?”
“A broken arm? But he got clear just before the van caught fire?”
“No-one else was involved or hurt?”
“He told the police a deer had leapt across the road just in front of him?”
“No, I won’t tell anyone it was the brakes really. Not when the farmer was so understanding about the damage to his wall and gates…” Well, Bertie thought, looking at Bertram’s Row from the back in the hope that it would look better from there (it didn’t). We’re really in it now. No money, no furniture – and we have to make something of this, Trixie and I. We can’t let Grandma down, can’t have her blaming herself for ruining our lives. Not after all she’s done for us.

Made for the Ackney-upon-Sherne build collaboration, to go at 89, Barfell Road.

Download the houses and family here: https://www.thesims3.com/assetDetail.html?assetId=9481275

And find out about the Ackney-upon-Sherne collaboration here: https://forums.thesims.com/en_US/discussion/993350/ackney-upon-sherne-showcase-our-english-village-creators-collaboration/p1