Chapter Six
‘Hello, baby girl,’ I said, stepping into my hallway and returning Cindy’s effusive greeting. Yes, she was my baby, and yes, she was my girl. ‘Mummy wants to take you out.’
Walkies?
‘Absolutely, but we’re going in the car.’
How is it possible to go for a walk in the car?
‘You’ll see,’ I said, finding her lead.
I led her outside to Octavia. The back of the car was swathed in a protective cover. It stopped dog hair embedding into the upholstery. Cindy jumped in.
Where are we going?
‘To check out a village called Starlight Croft,’ I said, as the engine turned over.
Have you taken me there before?
‘No, but it’s not far away. However, it’s located at the top of a horrendously steep, winding hill that seems to go on forever. Up and up. Then up some more. Hence the village’s name. Starlight Croft is one of the highest points in the south-east of England. Come winter, the village always gets a snow dump. Also, the hill is notorious for becoming an ice rink, which is especially iffy when the local council don’t always remember to grit the road.
Sounds fun. We could buy ourselves a sledge and toboggan down the hill .
‘We could, my darling.’
I wasn’t quite sure what the locals might make of that. One woman and her dog who went, not to mow a meadow, but to mow down locals on a sledge. Especially when that woman was increasingly a few Bonios short of a full box.
I swung a left taking Octavia off the A227. The twisty climb began. As the road narrowed to a single-track country lane, the gradient became steeper. As Octavia’s engine struggled, I shunted the gears from third to second. The car gave a high-pitched whine and lurched onward. There was no street lighting in this part of the world, and I toggled the headlights to full beam.
I couldn’t remember the last time I’d visited Starlight Croft. It was one of those satellite villages – if you blinked, you missed it.
What with the hill and the narrow road, it wasn’t a location for the fainthearted. I hoped I didn’t meet a farm tractor coming along in the opposite direction. I didn’t fancy reversing in this inky darkness while scanning the grassy banks for a handy layby and passing point.
Finally the hill flattened out and Octavia’s headlamps lit up a sign peeking from an overgrown hedgerow.
Welcome to Starlight Croft
We were now on Starlight Street. We drove past a small church, a tiny pub by the name of The Starlight Arms, also a sizeable village hut called Starlight Hall, presumably for community gatherings.
Cindy had now abandoned the back seat and cheekily opted to join me in the front. Her body swayed as she sat bolt upright on the unprotected front seat, peering into the gloom. She was noting the new surroundings with interest. Her eyes were alert, and her wet nose quivered.
Why are we here?
‘We’re checking the place out.’
But why?
I sighed.
‘Because, at some point, we need to move house. Lisa gave me a tip off about a cottage here. It’s about to go on the market. She thinks it will be perfect for us. It’s called Starlight Cottage.
Is everything in this village called Starlight Something-Or-Other?
‘Not sure,’ I said, as Octavia completed the road’s final twisty turn. We were now driving past the local farmer’s place.
‘Oh, look!’ I pointed. ‘Over there. Fern Farm. The surrounding fields have a dairy herd and grazing sheep. Ooh, and there’s the farm shop,’ I said excitedly, peering myopically at an adjacent outbuilding. ‘It’s called The Strawberry Shed. How charming.’
I was now leaning over the steering wheel, foot lightly touching the accelerator as Octavia pootled along at fifteen miles per hour. Pretty pastel houses hugged the lane.
‘And over there’ – I indicated a property with a thatched roof – ‘is Honeysuckle House, and the conversion next door is known as Bluebell Barn.’ Octavia slowed to a snail’s pace as I picked out the various names etched on plaques made of slate, granite or wood.
‘Lilac Lodge… Poppy Place… oh, and look at the size of that house.’ I jabbed a finger. ‘Moonlight Manor,’ I sighed dreamily. ‘They all have such gorgeous names.’
Which one is ours?
‘It’s not ours yet,’ I reminded, as my eyes scanned the immediate vicinity. ‘There!’ I squeaked as Starlight Cottage came into view.
Beyond the cottage was a curved row of some twenty terraced properties. According to an ornate sign, they were collectively known as Jingle Bell Terrace.
That’s a strange name for a row of houses .
‘Mm,’ I agreed. ‘Very… Christmassy. Maybe it’s because we’re so high above sea level, we could almost be hugging Santa Claus territory.
I drove past Jingle Bell Terrace, which marked the end of the village. Seemingly the lane looped back on itself, with a sizeable duck pond acting as a roundabout. A visitor could then travel back along Starlight Street, then down… down… down, until – like an aeroplane coming into land – one’s ears popped before alighting in Meopham.
I steered Octavia around the pond and doubled back, feeling my spirits lift as Starlight Cottage once again came into view.
Can we get out?
‘Yes, of course. We’ll walk back and forth. Stretch our legs. Have a good nosy at the property.’
Won’t we look a bit suspicious?
‘How do you mean?’
Well, if anyone sees us, they might think we’re casing the joint.
‘Hardly. There might be lights in the windows, but the curtains are drawn against the night. No one can see us,’ I assured. Unbuckling, I opened the driver’s door. ‘Come on. Jump over my seat.’
Cindy didn’t need telling twice. She sprang over the driver’s seat with alacrity, her nose sniffing the night air. I quickly grabbed hold of her lead. I didn’t want her spotting a wild hare and taking off into the dark.
Fumbling with my phone, I switched on the torch. The two of us then set off along Starlight Street. We went back and forth several times. Eventually the location of every house and outbuilding was imprinted upon my brain.
By now I was completely smitten with both the cottage and the village. It was so unlike Meopham with its residents on the right side of posh. Starlight Croft, with its potholes and puddles, was more… the Welly Brigade. Cindy would love it here. I could see her now, racing across the surrounding fields, following that public footpath that disappeared into dense woodland.
I didn’t need to see the inside of the cottage to know that I wanted it. But as anyone who has embarked on a conveyancing journey will attest, moving house is stressful. It’s not so much about the packing of boxes. More the red tape. The endless paperwork. Keeping fingers tightly crossed that the chain wouldn’t break. That a coveted house didn’t turn out to have galloping dry rot. Or that someone suddenly couldn’t bear to leave their house after all, due to it being in the family for umpteen generations.
I paused in the chilly night air and feasted my eyes on the small standalone cottage. I mentally determined there and then that no conveyancing nightmare would happen to me. I would make sure of it.
How, Mum? After all, you don’t have a magic wand.
I chewed my lip thoughtfully.
‘Because… because’ – I closed my eyes tightly – ‘I’ll manifest it. That’s how.’
Eh?
‘Watch.Listen.Learn.’
Okay.
‘Oh, universe,’ I intoned.
Why are you speaking to the universe?
‘Shh.I’m concentrating.’
I see, Cindy sniffed. Are you aware that one of us is barking? And it’s not me .
‘Oh, universe,’ I repeated, staring at the moon. My body vibrated slightly as I noted all the stars scattered across the sky. ‘I don’t care how you do it… or which way you do it… or what happens in the process of doing it… just give me Starlight Cottage.’
And as any seasoned manifester will tell you, sometimes you need to be careful not only what you wish for, but the way in which you do it.