She had busied herself all day around the house. It wasn’t what she had pictured growing up a young girl in the big city. She had dreamed of 200 thousand dollar homes, with gardens and cooks. Being the social hit of the town, opera, the theater, the big city life. But she had fallen for him the first time they met. There was something that drew her to him, and slowly the pieces all began to fit. Instead of the new home in the new development she was tending to a 100 year old farmhouse in the middle of nowhere. But she loved the charm of the house, with its creaky stairs, doors made of solid wood, and windows that took a crowbar to open when the weather got sticky. She had pleaded with him to install central air, but so far all she had managed to get was a small window unit for their bedroom. It had been stifling hot that day, the kind of day that happens in late August when it is so hot the birds won’t sing, and the midday heat had built into the house to the point where it pushed. Eventually he gave up trying to get back to sleep and decided to get up and go in early instead. A couple of miles away on the other side of the village, Jenny couldn’t sleep either. She rolled over and pressed the button that illuminated her bedside clock. She was relieved to find it was still only five thirty, so she had a couple of hours before she had to get up. She’d spent the previous evening typing up her notes, working late into the night and half-watching TV before slipping into bed at around midnight. Outside, the wind changed direction, and the cold October rain rattled against the window. She shivered and tugged the duvet up to her nose. With her boyfriend still away in Germany, the bed seemed huge. Jenny stretched out happily beneath the duvet, enjoying the warmth and sense of space. She closed her eyes quickly sinking into that lovely state halfway between sleep and consciousness, her mind going over the events and images of the last few days. Mr Lean had seemed very.
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