Winter at Pretty Beach Polly Babbington (best novels to read txt) 📖

it.’ Sallie put her hands together as if she was praying.

‘Well, that’s a good job, because we’re going back for a second look later after we get back from the hospital. Shane just messaged me to see if we were free.’

‘What? We are! Woohoo! I can’t wait. I’m going to take my time and look around properly and take loads more photos.’

‘Shane is meeting with the couple this morning to talk more firmly about price and they’ve said we can go back in this afternoon for a second look.’

Sallie got up, did a little jig around the table and kissed Ben on the cheek.

‘I just hope we can afford it. We’re going to need to take Tillie with us though - Lilly is off this afternoon.’ Sallie said, jigging around from foot to foot.

‘No worries from my end.’

‘Excellent. Ooh, I cannot wait!’

***

Sallie and Ben, with Tillie in her little seat in the back, sat parked in the car in the lane at the back of the house on Strawberry Hill Lane. Huge old horse chestnut trees lined the side of the road and a string of brightly coloured Christmas lights ran all the way from the fence of a neighbour’s garden to the back of the house. Sallie looked out at the thick, vintage brick wall running along the back of the property and the double gates covered in climbing weeds.

‘Doesn’t look as though they use the gates out here at all - they must park their car here in the lane. Shane said there was no problem parking with the permits.’ Sallie stated.

‘Or they don’t have a car - the bus stop down the road goes straight to the ferry stop and to Newport Reef and the train station isn’t that far from this side either.’

‘True, hadn’t thought of that - you could probably get away without a car at all if you lived here,’ Sallie replied.

‘Yep - how nice would that be, not to have to bother with a car?’

They sat in the car and watched as Shane pulled up opposite them in his white BMW. He got out, strolled over to their car, looked into the back at Tillie and smiled.

‘Okay, you two, I mean three - do you want to head on in and look around? I’ve just got to take a call from a solicitor and then I’ll join you in there,’ he said while using the key to open the back gates. ‘The back door is open apparently.’

Sallie and Ben stepped into the long garden, bordered either side by old brick walls. To the left an old outbuilding, and old stone steps which led up to a tiny little terrace area, overloaded with planter pots with exotic looking plants and tiny little figurines on every available ledge. A high jumbled up stone wall towered over to their right and a moss-covered bench sat perfectly into an alcove in the wall which looked like with one push it might crumble away and topple down in front of them.

Sallie tucked her chin into her coat, and put her hand inside Tillie’s jacket to check that she was warm enough. It was a cold day, threatening to snow and in the walled garden with the wind whipping around it felt much chillier than it actually was.

They walked all the way through the garden following the old wall to a sunken patio, filled with plants, pots and on the right a tiny fountain spilled water out of the wall to a trough below.

‘Brrrr, it’s freezing Ben, come on let’s get her inside,’ Sallie said, pointing to the door.

They stepped through the back door of the house and into the cosy, warmth of the kitchen, the Aga filling the air with heat, the bright ochre on the walls hurting Sallie’s eyes. Hundreds of tiny frames full of pictures, memorabilia and keepsakes covered the wall opposite them.

‘Imagine having to dust that lot!’ She whispered as they walked around.

Ben rolled his eyes and went and stood in front of the Aga with Tillie, warming his jeans and legs. Then they leant over the counter and peered into the door to the left that led down to the basement floor below and walked through another door into the adjacent sitting room.

Off the sitting room an old conservatory had been boarded up, the room dark and sad with mould on the windows, the stale air signifying that it hadn't been lived in, or indeed opened for a very long time.

They walked up the stairs, Ben holding Tillie and strolled in and out of the bedrooms. Bright orange linen curtains screamed at them from a small room with huge windows and wooden floors and a little yellow chair perched on the landing had seen better days.

‘I would love to get my hands on this colour scheme,’ Sallie said as they looked around at another bedroom with dark, bottle green walls.

They continued to walk in and out of rooms, peeking into under stairs cupboards and at the top of the house Ben turned on a tap in a tiny bathroom and the whole house sounded as if it was working to get the water to the top.

They walked out onto the little balcony overlooking the sea. Ben patted Tillie’s back gently as he squinted up at the lighthouse and Sallie crossed her fingers behind her back and silently made all sorts of promises to herself that she would be a better person, take up charity work in her spare time and even be nice to Pippa Waterton (if she had to) if she could be the new owner of Strawberry Hill House.

Chapter 54

Sallie sat on the sofa, her feet tucked up under her, a quilt over her legs, her planner open on her lap, full of cold with a box of tissues by her side.

Ben walked in holding Tillie, put her into the high chair and opened up a tiny pouch of pureed apple, tied a pink and white bib around her neck and spooned