Australian Secrets. Fiona McCallum

was lovely; bright, shiny and new, high ceilings, heaps of open space. She’d particularly admired the exposed timber beams above and around them. Nicola liked the idea that the old building had been given a new lease of life; apparently it had once been a butter factory. It was the sort of home Scott dreamt about; he’d told her often enough.

      But while she’d nodded along, she’d been dreaming of something entirely different. Her dream was of a more traditional-style home: solid stone, with large bullnose verandah and tessellated tiles, picket or wrought-iron fence out the front. She liked cosy; like plush feather-filled couches upholstered in Laura Ashley, handmade Persian rugs, and open fires.

      ‘So, what do you think?’ he’d said over and over during their walk through.

      To which she’d nodded and said, ‘It’s great, brilliant, totally you.’

      They’d left with Scott telling the real estate agent he’d be in touch and her still wondering if she was part of this grand plan of his.

      They drove away. He was so excited; she loved seeing him like that. She really didn’t want to burst his bubble by asking a silly practical question, but she needed to know.

      ‘So are you buying it?’

      ‘No darling, we’re buying it. Cool huh?’

      ‘Oh! Yes, very cool.’ She’d returned his broad smile. He was so pleased with himself.

      At that point she realised he didn’t have a clue that she dreamed of something entirely different; that he’d never actually asked her.