The White Farmhouse

The White Farmhouse

A Story by Georgina V Solly
"

A young woman's search for a life.

"



THE WHITE FARMHOUSE

 

“I really don’t understand why everything has to be in white.” Lauren said to her thirty-year-old daughter, Emily. The mother and daughter were standing in the minute hall of the farmhouse that Emily had managed to rent, after waiting many years to find a place and live in peace. The farmhouse was very old, and it had been abandoned before it was put up for rent as semi-furnished.  Emily had already installed a new kitchen and a new bathroom. Those renovations had formed part of the rental contract, given that the rent was so low. Emily had decided to turn the whole place into a wedding cake of a dwelling. She had the idea of having a pure home with everything being pristine, hence the all-white system of decoration. The top floor only had to have the bedrooms decorated, and then Emily could set about the furnishings and ornamentation.

The two females stepped outside the farmhouse, and Lauren contemplated the moat which surrounded three sides of the property. It was full of clean water after the recent rain, and there was a small bridge to cross over to the fields from the farmhouse. “Where will you park your car?” Lauren asked.

“Where we’ve already parked, I don’t envisage myself crossing that bridge for any reason. The back, where the garden is, will be more used than the part that looks onto the moat. By the way, I’m having new windows with double glazing fitted, so as to keep the place warm. I wonder at times if I’ll be able to get to grips with living here.”

“I expect you will, Dear. The first year will be the worst, and then you’ll fall into a routine.”

“Hopefully the routine won’t turn out to be going over the moat. I still have doubts about my decision to rent this place,” Emily said in almost a wail to her mother.

“You can always leave. It isn’t as if you’ve bought it. You might even prefer a flat in a city when you get tired of such silence. Don’t you think you’d be better off with a dog for company?” Lauren said to her.

“I suppose I’ll just have to wait and see,” Emily said to her mother as they made their way round to the other side of the farmhouse , where the cars were parked.

 

The two cars left the gravelled area outside the farmhouse, scrunching their way up to the main road that ran straight through the fields that bordered it on both sides. Lauren turned left at the crossroads, and Emily turned right. Mother and daughter went back to their independent lives. Meanwhile  the farmhouse was alone, with the moat on three sides and the gravel on the fourth.

Lauren drove back to her house in a more populous village than the one where Emily had chosen to live, after splitting up with her long-term boyfriend. Lauren’s house was much larger than Emily’s, and was furnished in a variety of colours, which gave it an extraordinary cosiness. Emily was always on at her mother for not having the house more elegant. Lauren turned a deaf ear to those words, and said to Emily, “Now you have your own place, then we’ll see what is cosy and what is messy. A house is meant to be a home, not a furniture showroom or a furniture department in a store.”

Emily had chosen white as her theme colour, because it was easy to maintain without very much trouble. When she got back to her old flat, she took off her clothes and put on her swimming costume with her purple track suit over it. The sports centre was a short walk away from her flat. In just under five minutes, Emily was walking through the entrance and punching her club card. She asked herself if she would be able to go to the centre after she moved to the farmhouse. Then she thought that there might be a sports centre near the village where she had chosen to live. At eight o’clock, there were nearly always too many people in the pool to get a lively energetic swim. She wet her body under the shower by the pool, and slid into the water. The best thing was just lying there on the surface of the water and letting it take her where it wanted to.

“Hey, there. Do you always swim as if you were jaywalking in the street?” a masculine voice said into her rubber-capped ear.

Emily opened her eyes and stared around her. She had let the water propel her gently all over the place, which was annoying the swimmers. The masculine voice had no effect on Emily, as she didn’t let herself be influenced by someone she didn’t know, and whom she had no intention of knowing. She had reasoned it out a long time ago, that there are a lot of idiots whose aim in life is to upset or disturb others who are simply enjoying themselves. Emily paid no attention to the direction where the voice had come from, and turned over onto her front and swam to the end of the pool. She looked over into the other lanes and saw that some of them were not as crowded as the one she was in, so she ducked under the plastic lines that separated them from one another, and swam to the last lane. Emily stood in the corner and rested her arms on the gutter that ran around the edge. She was a little tired, but stayed swimming till she had been there for fifty minutes, her usual time. Climbing out of the pool, Emily went to the changing room, got dried perfunctorily, and got into her car, and drove to the flat where she was living till the farmhouse was ready for habitation.

The swimming costume, towel, flip-flops and cap went into the washing machine to be rinsed out. Emily went under the shower and washed her body energetically, to rid it of the smell of chlorine. After partaking of her supper, the worst time of the day for Emily began. She did her best not to go over the well-trodden ground of her life with Hayward, her ex-partner, nevertheless, she did so every evening after she had spent the day at work and fixing up her new home. It all came crashing down on her: how they had met, lived together, and how he had just got up and gone out of her life with someone he had  known for only for two weeks. Emily felt stupid because she had never ever suspected that such a thing would or could happen to her. During her time with Hayward, she had not even contemplated another man, but he, on the other hand, had not only contemplated, but had swung into action.

The flat Emily was occupying had been rented by her for the duration of the works on the farmhouse. The night loomed long and dark before her, and Emily had no inclination to lie there and stare into the darkness of her bedroom till dawn. She got out of bed and walked over to the book case by the window and took out a book she had been trying to read for ages, but it was no good, she just found it too difficult to concentrate on the printed words. The book went back onto the bookshelf, and she sat on the chair that was in front of the desk under the window. Emily’s laptop was resting on the desk and she only had to open it and switch it on. She went through her e-mails, and the YouTube, and sat listening to songs. When tired of that, she watched some episodes of old comedy programmes. When her eyes were too heavy-lidded to keep them open, Emily closed the laptop and slipped back into bed. Her nights had been spent in a similar way since living on her own. The days she had under control, but the nights with all the sad memories of the break up, proved too much for her to handle.

 

Emily had never noticed the colour white, till she was by herself and had taken to visiting friends and family, now that she had more free time - too much, she thought at times. It was during her visits that she woke up to the fact that white in any shape or form was the fashionable colour. It certainly made any room appear lighter and cleaner and, little by little, she saw its possibilities as the colour for her next abode. At that time, she was still living in the flat she had taken on after Hayward had gone. The farmhouse was still far into the future, and she hadn’t made up her mind where to live or what to do. In the adverts on the television, white furnishings were used a lot as the colour to have in a house or flat. Every weekend she went out, with or without her mother, looking at properties, and it was more than likely the white farmhouse was chosen because of its name rather than the building itself. The first time Emily saw a photo of the farmhouse she smiled, and said to herself, ‘That’s what I want.’

 

Lauren went to the estate agent with Emily, who immediately declared that she wanted to rent the farmhouse.

The estate agent was pleased to be making such a quick letting, but on the other hand, Lauren asked Emily,  “Are you sure you want to have a place so far away from everything?”

Emily had no idea where the farmhouse was situated, but it was the home she wanted, and said, “I don’t care about that. I like the moat on three sides of the farmhouse.”

“It looks more like a ditch to me,” Lauren said.

“Madam, it’s not a ditch, it’s a proper moat,” the estate agent broke in.

“What’s the difference? It’s water running around a farmhouse, and I can’t imagine it warding off the fighting hoards,” Lauren argued.

“Whatever you might think, that is considered a moat, and has been so ever since the farmhouse was built years and years ago,” the estate agent declared.

“I’m not interested in whether it’s a ditch or a moat, I like it and that’s that. I’ll take the farmhouse.”

“I’ll get the papers ready, and will get in touch to let you know all the details. You do understand that this is a protected property and you can’t just go pulling down walls or adding windows, don’t you?”

“Yes, I fully understand,” Emily said, to stop her mother or the agent from trying to run her life for her.

 

The three of them parted company and drove off in different directions. The estate agent was happy for a quick deal, Emily for having got a house, but Lauren wasn’t keen on her daughter’s choice of a dwelling.

 

Emily moved into the farmhouse on a weekend, in order to have two days to get everything put away and in its place. Now, there was no other colour besides white, except for the black wrought iron stair banisters and the door latch. The outside door that led to the moat was black too, the exterior was painted white. The window frames, which were also white, had filmy white curtains hanging at them. The kitchen was all white, and so were the bathroom and the downstairs cloakroom. By some means, Emily had obtained a white sofa and armchairs, and the dining room furniture was all white. Emily’s bedroom was all white too, her nightwear was white, and so were the bed linen and the duvet. 

Lauren went to see how Emily was managing with the moving in, and almost shuddered at the whiteness of it all. “This place looks more like a hospital than a house, with all this white. Are you trying to prove something?”

“No, Mum, I’m not trying to prove anything. It’s the in-colour for fashionable houses, that’s all.”

“I can’t see how a farmhouse can be called fashionable. This place is just calling out for colour. It looks too pure to me, but if that’s what you want, then good luck to you,” Lauren declared before leaving Emily to her own devices.

 

Outside the farmhouse, a man stood on the other side of the moat, staring at the farmhouse and the glow that came from the lamps that lit up the interior. He had a large dog with him, and for some minutes, man and dog kept their eyes on the farmhouse. The air felt a bit too cold for them, and after a while they walked off in the direction of the local pub.

The pub door opened and the man and dog stepped into the cosy warmth. The barman, called Lee, greeted him, “Good evening, Jasper, how’re doing? We haven’t seen you here for a while. How’s your family?”

“Everyone’s fine. I’ve just been up to see how the farmhouse is nowadays.”

Lee answered as he gave Jasper his pint. “The new tenant has never come through that door, and they say she spends most of her time away in the city, working.”

“You know what makes me mad, is that my brother inherited the farmhouse, and we three brothers got nothing. We had to scrimp and scrape to buy it off him. It’s true it hadn’t been lived in for years and years and years, so he couldn’t ask all that much for it.”

Everyone in the village knew that Jasper and his family had no other idea in their heads than to annoy the tenants of the farmhouse. No one stayed longer than a few weeks, and certainly no longer than a month or two. Lee understood the family’s attitude, but at the same time he thought it unfair of them to take their anger out on new tenants who had done nothing wrong. The person they should have taken it out on was Fred, who as soon as he had the money from the sale of the farmhouse in his hot little hands, had taken off and emigrated to New Zealand, safe in the knowledge that none of his siblings had the necessary cash to follow him.

Lee stood listening to Jasper’s groaning and moaning, as he had done for many years, and wondered what the family would get up to, in order to make life more than uncomfortable for the new tenant.

 

Emily’s mother dreaded going to the farmhouse, due to its lack of colour, and she told Emily what she felt. “I think you should buy some colourful cushions for the sofa. It would look so cheerful, instead of so much white.”

“Mother, please stop trying to run my life. I like coming home to a white residence. It’s so pure and so perfect looking. I can’t imagine living with as many colours as you have.”

“This place looks dead to me, not pure. That’s in your head but not in anyone else’s. What’s wrong with a bit of colour in your life? Your lack of colour is making you afraid to step into the unknown. That must be why you haven’t got yourself a new man in your life. Emily, you must move on, and stop thinking about Hayward.”

Emily said to her mother, “Are you staying for supper, or for an argument about my present way of life?”

“I’ll stay for supper, but just remember, you have to move on.”

 

Emily knew her mother was right about her not having got over Hayward’s betrayal, and was not the slightest bit interested in getting involved with anyone. After her mother’s visit, Emily noticed that she had never met anyone from the village.

One day, she drove to see the estate agent who had rented her the farmhouse, and asked him, “Did the previous tenants ever complain about the lack of population around the village?”

The agent, who was in on what went on with the farmhouse, wasn’t prepared to let anyone from outside learn about the sordid carryings on of Jasper and his family. “I can’t really say anything about the villagers. You know how it is, people from country areas view anyone from outside with suspicion. Sorry, I can’t help you.”

 

Emily drove around for a while and then went home. As soon as she was in her white paradise, she felt happy. The farmhouse was hers, and hers alone, no matter what.

 

 Jasper with his wife and some other members of his family stood by the bridge on the opposite side of the farmhouse near the moat.

“Just who does she think she is, fitting out the whole house in white? It’s a country farmhouse and it looks like she’s turning it into a spread for some glossy magazine,” Jasper moaned, indignant at what he considered a lack of taste on Emily’s part.

“Jasper, it might be her favourite colour and that’s why it’s white and nothing else,” Jasper’s wife concluded

“That’s right. Take her part as she’s a woman. It’s wrong and you know it. That place should be comfy and cosy, and it isn’t,” Jasper groaned again.

“Jasper, it’s hers while she’s living there. It isn’t yours, and she can decorate it in the colour she likes. Come on, let’s go home, it’s getting cold and I want to drink something warm to get my blood circulating again,” Jasper’s wife said.

“Well, as she likes white so much, I’ll teach her a very hard lesson that will put her off white for the rest of her natural life,” Jasper said acidly.

“Now, Jasper, don’t you go breaking the law. That’s all we need, to have the police calling on us and asking embarrassing questions,” his wife told him.

“Don’t worry about me. I know what’s lawful and what isn’t. I also know the police around here. Let’s be going home, then, it’s getting rather chilly.”

And taking his wife’s arm and holding the dog’s lead in the other hand, they walked off together in the moonless night.

 

Before the week was out, things took for the worse. One evening, Emily arrived home after a long day at work, and parked on the gravel on the far side of the farmhouse from the moat. She took out her shopping bags, locked the car, and opened the front door. The things she was holding fell to the floor, as she was incapable of taking in what she saw. The farmhouse was full of white sheep of all sizes, from fully grown to lambs. They were chewing the upholstery on the sofa and armchairs, they had eaten the fruit in the bowl on a table, the fireplace had been attacked, and the dining chairs had suffered some chewing. The sheep were in the hall, also chewing the base of the banisters and some boots that Emily had forgotten to put away in the cupboard. A couple of sheep were coming down the stairs and she heard more of the ravaging going on upstairs. Some of them were in the bathroom, where they had tried eating the towels, and the toilet paper was strewn all over the place. Emily was scared to enter her bedroom but she had to, and saw the lovely white bedding was all torn up and all over the floor. Some of the sheep had even used her room as a lavatory.

After some minutes, she had got them downstairs, together with the rest of the flock. The police arrived soon after she called and were perplexed as to how and why so many sheep had broken into the farmhouse. As one policeman said to another, “The strange thing is that the farmhouse and the stuff inside it is all white, and the sheep are all white, none of those black-faced ones. Funny that, don’t you think?”

The other policeman limited his answer to a grunt.

 

Lauren rushed round in answer to Emily’s call, and saw the sheep being taken away from the farmhouse.

“How did they get in?” was Lauren’s question.

Emily stared at her mother in disbelief, “You don’t think I invited them in, do you?”

“I suppose the owner of the flock will be questioned and have to pay damages for what his sheep have done here,” Lauren declared.

“I’ll stay here tonight, and tomorrow I’ll sort out the mess. All of a sudden, I don’t want to live here any longer. A lot of the furniture is damaged, so that can go to salvage.”

 

Emily had cleared up the mess with her mother’s help, and it was while they were having lunch in a motorway cafeteria the following day, they got talking to a waiter, who told them that the white farmhouse was always said to be unlucky because of its name.

“That sounds absurd to me. If that’s so, why wasn’t the name changed?” Lauren asked the waiter.

“The villagers wouldn’t accept a new name and although, at times, it did have another name, the villagers still called it the white farmhouse. And there’s another thing, no one stays there for long. It must be haunted or something, and the landlord gets it cleaned up a bit before it’s put up for rent again.”

“It all sounds very suspicious to me, as if the whole village doesn’t want outsiders living here,” Lauren stated.

 

That afternoon, mother and daughter went to see the estate agent who had rented Emily the farmhouse.

“Good afternoon. I’ve come to let you have the farmhouse back. I’ve had enough, and I’m off. Did you hear about me coming home from work to find the place full of sheep? Don’t you try and talk me out of it. It would be a waste of your time. So I’m leaving now, with what’s left of my belongings and my dignity. Here are the keys.”

Emily handed over the keys to the open-mouthed estate agent, who said to her, “I don’t know what to say to you. Have you any idea where the sheep came from?”

“Are you trying to be funny? Of course my daughter doesn’t know where they came from. Only that she arrived home in the evening and found the whole place, not only full of sheep but completely damaged, too,” Lauren said angrily.

“How badly damaged is the farmhouse?” the estate agent asked.

“You’ve got the keys. Go and see for yourself,” Lauren shouted.

 

A couple of days later, a van removed Emily’s clothes that were still in good condition, which didn’t amount to much, and took them to her new abode in a far away town. The white things she had acquired with such a great illusion were all binned.

 

Back at the farmhouse a celebration was being held. Jasper and his family were drinking champagne in what had recently been Emily’s sitting room. The estate agent was there too. He turned out to be one of the brothers. They were elated that, at last, their disgusting plans had finally achieved the success they had hankered after. Jasper had no qualms about how they had treated the tenants, including Emily. They had only one thing on their minds, and that was, they had retrieved what they considered had been unfairly left to Fred. Each tenant had renovated something in the house, and now their dirty work was finished. So now they could use the farmhouse to make money as an hotel or a bed and breakfast

“We came out of that very well with the last tenant. New kitchen and bathroom! Anyway, the sheep did their bit as usual, and that’s it finished,” declared Jasper.

“Cheers!” Jasper called. The others raised their glasses in unison, and drank.

 

Emily, once settled in her new abode, furnished in every colour except white, realized how foolish she had been in wasting valuable time thinking about Hayward. She had started a new life without his destructive presence.

She had learned a lot from the episode of The White Farmhouse.

© 2014 Georgina V Solly


My Review

Would you like to review this Story?
Login | Register




Share This
Email
Facebook
Twitter
Request Read Request
Add to Library My Library
Subscribe Subscribe


Stats

151 Views
Added on October 12, 2014
Last Updated on October 12, 2014
Tags: farmhouse, fantasy, criminals, obsession, sheep

Author

Georgina V Solly
Georgina V Solly

Valencia, Spain



About
First of all, I write to entertain myself and hope people who read my stories are also entertained. I do appreciate your loyalty very much. more..

Writing