The Emerald Comb. Kathleen McGurl

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gorgeous! What’s the asking price?’

      ‘Hmm, four-four-five. Bit out of our price range. Looks a bit run down. Could be worth a look, though.’

      ‘Really? You want to go and see it?’ My heart beat a little faster at the idea of having another look at that house. I wondered whether anything had happened to Vera and Harold Delamere to make them put it up for sale. They’d mentioned feeling they ought to move somewhere smaller but had seemed reluctant to put the house on the market. I hoped they were OK. I’d thought of them and the house many times since my visit.

      Simon frowned at me. ‘Well, that’s how house-hunting works, isn’t it? You find something you like the look of, then go to see it.’

      ‘It’s just all a bit sudden. Have we actually decided we want to move?’

      ‘Do you want to?’

      ‘Well, it makes sense, so I guess I do …’

      ‘Great! So do I.’ He clinked glasses with me. ‘So if we’ve made the decision to move, we might as well start looking at properties sooner rather than later. Don’t you think?’

      And so it was that on Saturday I found myself standing outside Kingsley House again, grinning from ear to ear, with a slightly grizzly Thomas who’d just woken up holding my hand. Simon had dropped us off and was busy parking the car further up the lane. The older children and the estate agent were with him. I tugged on the bell-rope and heard a distant jangling inside.

      Vera opened the door and broke into a wide smile when she saw me on the doorstep. ‘Katie, how lovely to see you! But, I’m afraid we’re expecting visitors in a moment. The house is up for sale, you see.’

      ‘I know – it’s us who’ve come to see it,’ I said, shaking her hand.

      ‘You? Oh, how lovely! When the estate agent said a Mr and Mrs Smith wanted to see the house I didn’t think for a moment it’d be you!’

      ‘I know, it’s such a common name, not like St Clair. Listen.’ I spoke hurriedly, seeing Simon, Lewis, Lauren and the estate agent walking up the lane ‘My husband doesn’t know I was here before. I’d be obliged if you didn’t mention it. He’s not … well … he doesn’t get the whole ancestry thing, you know? I think it would put him off the house.’

      Vera raised her eyebrows, but nodded. ‘All right. Mum’s the word. And who’s this?’ She crouched down to Thomas’s level, but he became suddenly shy and buried his face against my leg. She stood up again as Simon and the others crunched across the gravel driveway. ‘Come in, everyone. Would you like to take the little one into the study? I’m sure I can find something to amuse him while the rest of you look around the house.’

      The estate agent, Martin, a skinny youth in a shiny suit, introduced everyone as Vera ushered us all inside. Martin set off on a tour with Simon, Lewis and Lauren, while I followed Vera into the study with Thomas.

      Harold was dozing beside the fire, in much the same place I’d left him on my last visit. ‘He’s not been so good,’ Vera whispered to me. ‘That’s why we’re having to move. We’re going into one of those little retirement flats, in a new development near our son in Bournemouth.’ She sighed. ‘It’ll break our hearts to leave this place, but the time has come.’

      She gently shook Harold’s arm to wake him up. ‘Harold, look who’s here to view the house.’

      He blinked twice at me, then smiled. ‘Katie St Clair! So are you going to buy our house, then?’

      I laughed. ‘Well, I’ll have to see what my husband, Simon, thinks. He’s having a look around now, with the kids.’

      ‘And you’d better go to join him, or it’ll look odd,’ said Vera. ‘Now, Thomas, shall I fetch you something to play with? I’ve got a box of old Matchbox cars somewhere. I used to keep them for our grandchildren. But they’re all grown-up now.’ She opened a low cupboard in the old shelving unit and pulled out a Tupperware container. Thomas trotted over and started rummaging through it happily, pulling out diggers and police cars, tractors and racing cars. Harold pulled out one and showed him how the doors opened.

      ‘Look, Thomas. It’s an old Ford Anglia. Like the first car I ever owned!’

      Thomas inspected the battered toy. ‘Daddy’s got a Galaxy. We came in it today. It’s red.’

      ‘Oh, I like Galaxies,’ said Harold. ‘Lovely big cars.’

      Behind him, Vera gestured to me to follow her out to the hallway, leaving the ‘boys’ to discuss cars.

      ‘It’s lovely to see him playing with a child,’ said Vera. ‘Does him good.’

      ‘Thomas loves cars. Your Tupperware box is the perfect thing to keep him happy.’

      ‘You’d better go and join the tour. I believe they’re upstairs now. I’ll make us some tea, and squash for the children?’

      ‘Perfect,’ I said, and trotted upstairs to find Simon and the kids who’d reached the two attic bedrooms.

      ‘Mum, I want to have this room,’ said Lauren. ‘I love the slopey ceilings. But I don’t want Lewis in the other room up here. I want this floor all to myself. Can I?’

      ‘Sweetheart, we haven’t even decided whether to buy this house or not. It’s a bit over our price range.’ I looked at Simon as I said this. He was chewing his lip, a sign that he was deep in thought. ‘What do you think, Simon?’

      ‘Got loads of potential. And I’ve always quite fancied a project house. Do you like it?’

      ‘I love it. Absolutely love it,’ I said. Martin grinned, no doubt seeing pound signs spinning in front of his eyes.

      ‘You can’t have seen much of it yet,’ said Simon. ‘But it is the kind of place which grabs you, isn’t it?’

      He had no idea just how much it had grabbed me. I nodded, as we went back down the narrow stairs to the first floor.

      A few minutes later, our tour was over. Lewis and Lauren went out to explore the garden, while Martin watched them nervously from the kitchen. Simon and I returned to the study where Thomas was parking cars along the edge of the hearth rug. Harold looked up as we entered.

      ‘Mrs Smith, do please sit down.’ He gestured to the chair opposite him, beside the fire. ‘We’ve been thinking. Are you serious about wanting to buy this house?’

      I sat, and glanced at Simon standing beside me, wondering how we should reply. I loved the house and could think of nowhere I’d rather live, but it was out of our price range. How could we say we were serious about it when we knew we couldn’t possibly afford it? Simon looked lost for words too. Before either of us had chance to frame an answer, Harold continued.

      ‘Because if you are, I think we would be very happy to sell the house to you. Vera and I always hoped another family would buy the house, rather than a developer. We’d hate it to be mucked about with and turned into flats. We’ve had plenty of offers from developers, but have turned them all down, hoping a family would come and look at it. And we decided,’ here he looked at Vera who nodded encouragingly, ‘that if a family we liked came to see the house,

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