John and Sharon Daly were moving to Downshire and as they were unfamiliar with the County, they took a week’s holiday to get the lay of the land and look for properties within a 20-mile radius of Abbeyvale, where they would both be working.
It
was on their third day when they drove to the south of Northchapel and got lost
and ended up in the beautiful village of Chapel Hill.
There
was an expanse of green at the centre of the village complete with duckpond and
a weeping willow tree.
On
the north side of the green was the pub, The Woodcutters Tavern and attached to
the side of the pub there was a Stephenson’s general store and post office,
across the green from the pub was the church, St Peter’s, with the vicarage to
one side and a row of shops ran alongside the road on the West of the green,
Buckley’s Greengrocer and Fruiterer’s, Addisons Bakery, Harvey’s Pharmacy,
Bizzie Lizzie Florist, Mazzones Hairdressers, Harrisons Hardware and
Boddingtons Butchers.
“It
seems to have everything here” Sharon said.
“And
its lovely”
“Well
lets walk over to the Pub and we can go online to see if we can actually afford
to live here.”
As
they crossed the green, they noticed on the farthest side, at the end of the
lane, what appeared to be a “for sale” board.
John
and Sharon looked at each other, shrugged and walked towards it.
When
they reached the end of the lane they stopped and looked at the board.
“Owen
and Hargreaves of Abbottsford,” it read.
John
took out a pen and paper and started to write down the phone number.
“Hello
there,” said a disembodied voice.
John
looked up and saw an elderly lady emerge from behind some shrubbery.
“Did
you want to see round the house?” she said removing her gardening glove.
“Well,
we haven’t come from the agent,” said Sharon hesitantly.
“We
were just out for a drive and stumbled upon the village.”
“Well,
you might as well see it now you’re here,” she said with a smile and opened the
gate.
“Come
on in” she gestured.
“Come
on in I’m Isabelle” she offered her hand and cocked her head.
“Oh,
I’m John Daly” he said taking her hand.
“This
is my wife, Sharon.”
After
introductions they were given the full tour of the house and gardens ending
with drinks on the patio.
“I
only put the house on the market yesterday” she told them.
“You’re
the first to view”
She
then told them that since the children, she had six, had grown up and moved
away and her husband had “passed on” the house was just too big for her now.
So,
she was going to go and live with her daughter in Canada.
“I
have the estate agent’s details in the house, it gives all the room sizes and
such, I’ll just pop in and get it” she said disappearing through the French
doors.
“What
do you think?” whispered Sharon.
“It’s
lovely” he replied in a whisper “It’s perfect.”
The
house was called “Hill View Cottage” and was nestled in the hillside amidst the
remnants of the ancient forest, which was once draped across the whole of the
southern landscape.
The
garden sloped gently away from the house and as they sat on Isabelle’s patio,
they looked out across the valley to the distant town of Abbeyvale, and beyond
to the forested hills on the far side of the valley.
“This
is the one” she said.
“Let’s
make an offer then” John agreed.
