Ten
The two women stepped inside and the daylight tried to follow them but gave up within a few feet of the threshold.
They switched on the torches and flicked them around the dark, wood-panelled hallway with a stunning black and white tiled floor. Well, it would be stunning once it had been swept, washed and polished.
Sally turned to her right and came face-to-face with a large double doorway. She pushed one of the doors open and walked into the room she’d viewed through the window a few days earlier.
She came to a stop in the middle and slowly spun round, casting her eyes over the walls, the dirty wooden floor, and the beautiful beamed ceiling. The latter had a large brown stain above a long side window – a window whose view was blocked by greenery from the bushes outside.
The wall opposite the front-facing bay window also contained a pair of double doors but these were sliding doors and when she opened them, they led into a second room which was almost the same size as the first although this one had two sets of French windows to the side. She could just about see the small, cast-iron Juliet balconies but pretty much most of the external view was obscured by the bushes outside.
‘Well, these rooms are a good size. And with there being no furniture to clutter them, you get a great feel for the dimensions.’
‘Yes,’ Sally agreed, ‘they’re pretty decent.’
They exited through the single door of the second room back into the hallway and walked across to the room to the left of the main door which also had double doors leading into it. It was a mirror image of the room opposite although, this time, the front room had the French windows.
As Sally looked about, taking in the sorry state of the décor, she was already planning out her B&B. The first pair of rooms would be perfect for the lounge and dining area. The two rooms she was now standing in could be converted into a wheelchair-friendly bedroom and bathroom. The double-doors between the two rooms were perfect and meant little in the way of structural renovation would be required.
As much as possible, it was her wish to retain the greater part of the original farmhouse. She never understood those people who bought beautiful old buildings “for their amazing history” and then proceeded to rip out the innards and turn them into empty, modern shells.
‘This is a bit upmarket for your standard old farmhouse, is it not?’
Fiona came back to stand beside her.
‘If the farm has been in the family for generations, it’s possible they were gentlemen farmers at one time. You know, the kind you see in those historical dramas where they “have a man” in charge of everything.’
‘I suppose that could be likely.’
They made their way back into the hallway and stepped past the rather more-glamorous-than-expected staircase, going towards the back of the house where a corridor ran from left to right with several doors along one side. When these were opened and inspected, they revealed a downstairs bathroom, some walk-in cupboards, a staircase leading downwards and finally, a large kitchen.
‘Oh, my days! Would you look at the size of this!’
Sally walked in and knew then that, come hell or high water, she was buying this house.
In itself, the kitchen wasn’t exceptional – but it had the potential to be! A deep, old butler’s sink was positioned under a large window which gave a perfect view over the yard outside towards the barn. Despite the dirt caked on the glass, some weak daylight rays were managing to filter through, picking out the terracotta tiled floor, the solid wooden worktop along one wall and an old cooking range in the chimney area.
Already Sally was envisioning the room with new shiny fitted units, a large marble-covered island, and the range all cleaned up and ready to cook up the eggs and bacon in the morning. In fact, with this much cooking space, she might even be tempted to offer afternoon teas with homemade cakes.
In the far corner was a large pantry which could be transformed into a wash room to accommodate the industrial washing machine and dryer she would require.
‘Upstairs or downstairs next?’
‘I think down and then up,’ Sally smiled.
The concrete stairs led down to the lower ground floor that Sally had been surprised to find when she’d been trespassing on Saturday. She hadn’t given much thought on what to expect but animal stalls hadn’t been high on the list. The space was greater than anticipated and went the length of the house although not the depth. That explained the external steps she’d come across – the house must have been built on a hill.
‘Ah, now my guess for this place is that it dates back a couple of hundred years when they used to bring animals indoors in the bad weather and over the winter. What do you think?’
‘I’m thinking, Fiona, that you could be right.’
‘Upstairs now?’
‘If you think they’re safe, let’s go for it.’
‘And there you have it. What do you think?’
They were perched on an old bench inside the barn, the large doors flung open to let the afternoon sunlight in.
‘Honestly, Fiona, I really like it.’
Sally was, in fact, already deeply in love with the property but she knew better than to let on to the estate agent how she felt.
‘Is that like it enough to put in an offer?’
She grinned at the hope in Fiona’s voice. If she could sell this, there would be a tasty bit of commission in it for her.
‘I know how I want this place to work for me so I need to get a builder to come out and go through what I can and cannot do.’
‘A perfectly sensible plan. I can email you a list of builders that we deal with. They’re on our recommended list so no need to worry about any cowboys.’
‘Thank you, I’d really appreciate that. I’ve already collated some names myself so I’ll cross-reference with your list and maybe whittle it down to two or three.’
‘I’ll get that done as soon as I return to the office.’
‘Thank you. Now, I suppose I’d better let you get back to work.’
They were walking back around to the front of the house and their cars when Fiona asked what Sally’s intentions were for the property.
‘I’d rather not say just yet. I’m not superstitious but I’d prefer to wait until everything is in motion first.’
‘Okay. Well, when you decide if you want to go ahead and make an offer, you have my number.’
‘I do indeed.’
Fiona checked the front door was secure before saying goodbye and setting off in her car, leaving Sally to lean against Frida’s bonnet and stare at the house.
The upstairs rooms had again been perfectly situated for two further bedrooms with en suites to be created along with airing cupboards and rooms which could be converted to offices.
Oh, yes, this house had much to offer and was ticking all her boxes.
‘Do you want me to look after you?’ she whispered into the stillness of the afternoon. ‘Shall I bring you back to the beauty you once were? Can we work together on healing each other?’
A gentle breeze blew, making the trees above her and the bushes around her all whisper their answer.
‘Yes!’
She pulled her phone from her pocket, tapped in the mobile number on Fiona’s business card and waited for her to answer.
‘Good afternoon, Fiona Parkridge…’
‘Fiona, it’s Sally. I want to put in an offer!’