Painted white now, with a new terracotta roof, it sat on top of its hill, standing out like a sparkling jewel, surrounded by the lush green of the surrounding bushland. Inside, the rest of the house was totally transformed. Vivienne had given full rein to her design skills, not making any silly compromises just because she would be living there permanently now. It seemed that telling him about her mother’s hoarding had somehow freed her of the anxiety which she associated with clutter, though she still wasn’t fond of rooms being over-furnished or overdone. Less was sometimes more, she’d told Jack.
As for colour schemes, she obviously preferred neutral colours, with just splashes of accent colours. She had let her head go a bit with the two apartments downstairs, despite still sticking to her base of white walls, white kitchens and white bathrooms. But there was a lot more colour.
Because children would be occupying the rooms, she’d selected leather lounges and chairs as they were more easy care. And nothing pale: reds and blacks. She’d also used black granite on the various counter tops instead of the brown marble that she’d used upstairs. Again, saying she was thinking of the children, she’d had several bookcases built in to the living rooms to accommodate toys, knick-knacks, photographs and, yes, the odd book or two. Not that children read that much anymore, Jack realised. It was all games consoles and tablets. Jack had been pleased when Vivienne had bought herself a bookcase recently to go in the living room upstairs, a lovely old antique one which was now overflowing with thrillers, none of which Jack had read. Though he kept meaning to.
Vivienne had never returned to live in Sydney, selling her Sydney apartment to Marion and Will. For a bargain price, Jack thought. Not that he cared. He had plenty of money. They’d decided that once the house was finished Jack would divide his time equally between here and Sydney until he could wind up his business down there and start another building company up in the Newcastle area. Vivienne had already set up her own website for a boutique design business, and was receiving quite a few offers of work. She hadn’t wanted to try for a baby until they were married—and Jack aimed to get onto that project asap. He was really looking forward to becoming a dad—more than he would have thought possible.
Vivienne giving his fingers a squeeze brought him back to the moment at hand.
‘We’re now man and wife,’ she said with a soft, sweet smile. ‘You can kiss me if you like.’
He kissed her while everyone clapped.
‘So where were you when the ceremony was taking place?’ she whispered after his lips lifted enough for her to speak.
‘I was thinking about making you a mother tonight.’
‘It doesn’t always happen as quickly as that, Jack. We might have to wait months.’
* * *
Vivienne was right. She didn’t become a mother that night. Though she did fall pregnant early in the New Year. With a boy.
As for Francesco’s Folly, it was always a happy home, full of laughter and love. Eventually, Jack and Vivienne had four children: two boys and two girls. Vivienne continued to work, though only part-time. And Jack? He gave up being a workaholic and devoted a lot more time to his family. His mother never married George. But they were still happy, living next to each other and going on endless holidays together. Jack's two sisters and their families often came to stay, especially at Christmas, when all the cousins would have a great time together, having barbeques and going to the beach. In fact, lots of people came to stay with them at Francesco's Folly. Marion and Will. Even Nigel and his wife. It was that kind of house.
Sometimes, on a balmy summer evening, when Vivienne sat on her favourite balcony sipping a deliciously chilled white wine and drinking in the glorious view, she imagined Francesco up in heaven looking down at her and feeling very content that his lovely home was being lived in and loved. And it was in those moments that she would thank God for saving her from disaster all those years ago and sending her a man like Jack to love.
Her life was not perfect. Whose life was? But it was very good. Very good indeed.