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" No," Rob answered, still trying to seem casual, "first time at this particular place." Want to swap or share?" the guy asked as he quite blatantly eyed Margie up and down, while his wife grinned most lasciviously at Rob."Thanks but we'll just chill out for a while yet," Rob replied, bringing looks of disappointment to the couple who assured them that they'd be available at any time.Rob took hold of his wife's arm and steered her away, heading for a sofa out by itself and away from any of the others. "Wow, they get straight to the point, don't they," Margie whispered with a chuckle.Glancing about, they could see signs indicating 'Play Pens', 'Kink Room', and also 'Dungeon'.Their choice of the isolated sofa didn't prove to give the chance of privacy that they'd aimed for, as almost straight away, a couple got up from where they sat, and came towards our young couple.This couple were quite a bit older than Rob or Margie, the wrong end of their forties, Rob estimated, though still good. ’ He gazed up and around whimsically. All the downstairs rooms at Fairyfield contained handsome woodwork, fine stucco and imposing ceilings. The original owners had clearly wished to provide themselves with gracious living and impress visitors with their wealth. ‘You’ve done a marvellous job in restoring the old Grange, and that’s a fact. There was much talk when Albert Fairyfield was still alive that he intended to leave the place to the National Trust, and one can only surmise at the ruin it would still be if he’d done that.’ He swept his arm around in an extravagant gesture. ‘You’ve raised it up like a Lazarus. It’s becoming quite lovely.’ ‘Uncle Albert had no family of his own, and I’m fortunate he thought so highly of me.’ Miriam replied, ‘I’ve done the best I can with limited resources and tried to restore the original character of the place. Some people insist the mixture of architecture is a misalliance, but I can’t agree, I feel the blend of styles hold a certain charm.’ ‘It.
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Was it because he felt lonely and she was here? Or was it because ofwhat they had when they were younger? What was his subconscious tryingto tell him? Tom could not make heads or tails of his feelings and feltlike his whole life was completely out of his control and just dragginghim along for the ride. Unable to concentrate on his work, Tom shut downhis laptop and went to see if he could give his mother a hand."Wow, those are interesting!" Tom saw his mother standing on the stepladder hanging some kind of large curtains along a wire cable that ranalong one of the smaller log rafters near the rear of the rear of thecabin. The pattern on the large curtains reminded Tom of the quilts hisgrandmother made."Hi honey." Tom's mother twisted around to see her son walk in. "Couldyou hand me the quilt on top of that stack on the bed dear?" You're using quilts for a curtain?" Tom seemed uncertain."Of course." His mom smiled. "Your grandparents used them to give them alittle privacy for changing.

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