felt like she belonged somewhere. That Langtry Meadows was her home.
‘Oh, May’s been gone a couple of years now.’ Lucy turned her attention back to the estate agent, and he waved in the direction of the fireplace. ‘You could put a nice wood burning stove in there.’
She gazed round the room. ‘It would be so easy to make it cosy.’ She could reach the beamed ceiling if she stretched up, but the place felt safe, and comforting, even in its present neglected state. ‘I could soon clean up the floorboards.’
A few bright rugs scattered around, a bookcase in the corner, some new curtains would transform the place. She could even squeeze her desk into the alcove.
‘Want to see more?’ Sensing a sale, Simon jumped to his feet, and waved her on enthusiastically.
The kitchen was bigger than she’d expected, and brighter, with a lovely large window which she was instantly drawn to and found herself looking out over the small cottage garden. Next to the house was a York paved patio, with a small, round wrought iron table and chairs and a mass of colourful pots all different shapes and sizes that she could imagine overflowing with summer bedding plants.
Lucy turned back to study the room. There was a mix of old fashioned cupboards, and under her feet the red quarry tiles seemed to glow, leading her gaze straight to the cream Aga.
‘Wow, is that a proper Aga?’
Simon grinned. ‘It is, May’s daughter told us it’s been looked after, but it runs on coal so you might want a more modern version.’
‘Oh I love it, just as it is, it must be so cosy in the winter in here.’ She could sit, on a chair by the Aga, reading a book or doing her marking, and gaze out at the cute back garden. Charlie and Maisie would adore the place, though she really, really mustn’t think that way, their future could be far away. But the pup would love it here, it would be heaven for a dog.
Oh God, she mustn’t think about that, the poor thing was really ill, and she still didn’t know quite how poorly it was. The way it had looked at her, so trusting, lifting its head even though it was so weak. She blinked. She mustn’t think about it, she’d had her heart broken once before as a child, when she’d lost her dog, her best friend. Her and her mother had moved, and not been able to take Sandy with them, and now she really didn’t know if she was ready to risk the heartache again. Even thinking about the poor little scrap, the thought of it dying …
She gulped away the feelings and stroked a hand along the old stone sink.
She’d love it here. She just knew she would. And buying it was something she’d be doing for herself.
‘I’ve got to warn you that the bathroom isn’t up to much.’ Simon was heading up the small staircase as he spoke, ducking to avoid the beam. ‘It was originally outside the back door of course, which is now a brilliant storage shed, I’ll show you in a minute, but they squeezed one in up here about forty years ago.’ He turned to wink at her. ‘Modern development.’
The small bathroom was far from modern, but she could imagine how it would look if she got a claw foot bath near the window, if she stripped out the thin green carpet, the olive-coloured tiles, and the avocado suite that might well be as old as the bathroom itself.
‘You’d need a survey of course, but the place is basically sound as far as we can tell. The family did look after it for May, it just needs a bit of updating and a few throws and cushions and stuff, not that I’m into interior decorating, but my mum is a whizz with a bit of soft furnishing. Only started to appreciate it when I started going into other people’s houses and realising how much difference a few bits and bobs could make.’
Lucy couldn’t help but smile at his enthusiasm, and he blushed, ushering her into the next room.
‘Master bedroom, nice view over the green and pond, you can peer round the net curtains and keep up with business better than Elsie Harrington can. Must drive her mad being hidden away by the church.’
‘She does get to see what goes on in the square.’
‘True. What do you think then?’
‘Honestly?’
‘Honestly.’ He sat down next to her on the little window seat.
‘It’s amazing, Simon. I could see myself living here. But …’
‘But?’ His shoulder nudged against hers, as though chivvying her on, willing her to say yes.
‘Well Mr Bannister, Alf, said it would sell quickly and I’m sure he’s right, and I’d need to sell my own house first.’
‘Don’t worry about that. If you really want it, get yours on the market and we’ll sit on this for a few days.’
‘But you can’t …’ She frowned. ‘It’s business, you …’
‘It’s much better for the village if the people who live here own the houses. Especially these ones. We can’t hold on to it for ever, but if you’re serious …’
‘Yes.’ She looked around, and nodded. ‘I’m serious.’ There was a little flutter of anticipation deep down in her stomach. This could be her home. Her real home. Not some characterless block of bricks that was little more to her than a symbol of her achievements. ‘I am.’ She could hear the conviction ring out in her own voice. ‘I’ll ring the agent who’s letting mine out as soon as I get home, I’m sure he can give me an idea of how long it would take to sell, and confirm a price.’ Although she had a fair idea of how much the house would be worth. Hopefully she’d be able to keep the same level of mortgage and she’d have a little bit of equity to spend on the work the cottage needed.
‘Great, Alf will be pleased.’
She raised an eyebrow, and Simon laughed.
‘He’s okay, just a bit of a grumpy git on the outside, but his heart’s in the right place. He’d far rather somebody we know buy it, and so would May’s family.’
Lucy felt a little glow spread up through her body. Somebody we know. She hadn’t been in the village that long, less than a year, but she did feel she belonged, she did feel she knew people – which was something she’d never expected at all.
‘Feel free to come and collect the key if you need another look.’
‘I will, thanks Simon. I’ll let you know this afternoon what the agent says, although you’re closed aren’t you?’
‘Officially, according to Alf. Here,’ he held out a card, ‘take this, it’s got my mobile number on it.’
The banging on the door was followed by the sound of it creaking open, and a cheery ‘hello.’ Lucy gave up on staring at the email from the estate agents, not that she’d been concentrating on it that hard – with the poorly pup on her mind – and closed the lid of her laptop with a sigh, just as Maisie flung the kitchen door open and dashed in, a small brown dog at her heels.
‘I’ve been to see my friend, have you got any cakes? Daddy says you’ve got cakes.’
Lucy grinned. ‘They’re for the picnic tomorrow.’
‘Hi!’
