Cherry Blossom Dreams Read Online Free

two years ago. Miranda, Mum’s boss, had asked her to check up on a window that she thought might have been left open. It was a couple of weeks after Mum had found out the truth about Married Michael and she wasn’t in a very good state. Mum had already talked to me a lot about how awful she felt, and part of me was glad because it made me feel closer to her. But the other part wished she wouldn’t tell me quite so much, because sometimes the things she said scared me.
    Blossom House was a big detached three-storey Victorian building that had been allowed to fall into a pretty bad state. But on the day we first saw it the magnolia tree in the front garden was in full bloom and all I noticed as we walked down the drive was the gorgeous pinky-white blossom.
    ‘That tree needs cutting down,’ Mum grunted. ‘It blocks out all the light.’
    I gaped at her. I didn’t contradict her though, because when she wasn’t confiding in me she’d been snapping my head off at the slightest provocation ever since she and Michael had split.
    ‘Oh, wow!’ Sean exclaimed after Mum had taken us in through the front door and he had gone to have a look in one of the reception rooms.
    Mum and I went to see what he was wowing about. We found him gazing out of the window at the massive back garden, which was full of cherry blossom trees.
    ‘Oh!’ I gasped as I took in the mass of colour – pinks and pale purples and creams. It made me smile just looking at it, and I glanced at Mum, hoping it might cheer her up a little too.
    Mum didn’t even seem to see the blossom. Her face still wore the same frozen-over expression as she said, ‘Well, it’s not this window that’s open. Come on. Let’s check the others. God, it’s depressing in here.’
    I looked at Sean, not bothering to hide my astonishment.
    ‘Depressing?’ I murmured, because to me it felt like a house from a story, somewhere something magical could happen. The fireplace had a beautiful carved wood surround and gorgeous ceramic tiles depicting pink birds on a green and gold leafy background. Normally Mum would have been in raptures over that – and over the original wooden floor.
    As far back as I can remember, Mum has always talked about her dream house. Now it’s like this game we all play. Mum wants big windows and high ceilings, open fires, at least two proper bathrooms and a lovely big garden. And she thinks the Victorian and Edwardian houses have the most character. She thinks our house is poky and box-like with no character whatsoever, and it’s true, I suppose. Our house is certainly much smaller than Lily’s and we don’t even have a proper garden, just a small rectangle of lawn and a little patio. Sean and I used to share a bedroom until a couple of years ago, when Mum decided we were too old. We had to draw straws to see who’d keep the room we were in and I lost. I had to move into what had until then been the box room, where Mum kept her work stuff and lots of Dad’s old things. Sean kept our big bedroom all to himself, with a desk and bookshelves where my bed used to be. Mum tried to make my new bedroom look nice – I’ve got a platform bed with a desk underneath, and we painted the walls pale blue and stuck a big mirror on one wall to make it feel bigger. But you can’t really fit two people in there, which is why I always end up going round to Lily’s place now that we’re older. Perhaps that’s why Blossom House means so much to me. It totally makes up for my lack of space at home.
    ‘That floor could be so beautiful if it was polished up a bit, couldn’t it, Mum?’ I said, running after her. ‘Maybe we could polish it up. We could polish up all the floors if you like. It might help you sell the house.’
    ‘It’s not our job to polish the floors,’ Mum snapped as she went around checking the other downstairs windows. ‘Anyway, that sort of thing doesn’t make any difference when a house is this overpriced. Frankly, I don’t think the