Page 36 of The House of Hopes and Dreams
‘Of course, and you can have it rent free until you’re in profit, plus live here rent free for as long as you like,’ he said. ‘Nick can come and film us cleaning the place up and planning what you need – but there’s no rush to start on it, is there? You could do with a couple of days’ break andIcould do with someone to bounce ideas off.’
‘I expect you mean someone to follow you round noting down endless lists of things to do to the house and grounds,’ I said resignedly.
‘It’ll be fun,’ he coaxed.
I wasn’t sure, after the last couple of years, that I remembered what fun was like.
‘Oh, well, I am actually longing to go over the whole house, anddyingto see all the glass. But not today, because it’s getting late and dark so I ought to get back to Molly’s.’
‘I wasn’t going to let you see it today anyway, because I knew all that Art and Crafts glass would draw you back like a magnet.’
‘You know me too well,’ I admitted, getting up.
‘Before we go, I will just let you have a quick look at the bedroom you’ll have. Come on, we’ll go up the backstairs.’
The steep flight of wooden stairs came out by a baize-lined door to the family’s quarters, which matched one in the passage below.
‘Separating the riff-raff from their masters,’ Carey said. ‘The nursery suite and servants’ bedrooms are to the right, but we go this way.’
He opened the baize door, revealing a corridor on a grander scale, with a plush red carpet down the middle. The walls were a dark, soupy brown.
‘The interior of the house was originally almost all painted a soft white – there are some photographs downstairs that show it like that,’ he said. ‘It’s going to be some job getting it back to how it should be. I mean, this dark varnish is bad enough, but why on earth comb a wood-effect pattern into it, when itiswood underneath?’
‘I think that’s a fairly recent addition. Wasn’t it a popular look in the fifties?’
‘I don’t know, but it’s not popular with me,’ he said. ‘The main staircase comes out further along. There’s a half-landing with a stained-glass window you’ll see when you come back tomorrow.’
‘Tease,’ I said.
‘The best rooms face over the lake and woods, and there’s a big bedroom at either end of this corridor, each with a bathroom next door. We have all mod cons at Mossby: there’s a cloakroom downstairs off the hall and the servants have one in their wing.’
‘You could soon be known as “Four Toilets Revell”,’ I suggested.
‘I’d rather not. You’ll love the toilet off the entrance hall, by the way – it’s got an amazing blue glazed print of Windsor Castle inside the bowl.’
‘I can hardly wait to see it and I’m sure it’ll become my favourite,’ I said gravely.
‘My room was my uncle’s, so it has a connecting door to the bathroom of fairly recent date. There’s a sort of little kitchenette affair in a small room across the landing, too, where I assume the nurses brewed the tea and that kind of thing. I thought I might be able to turn it into a shower room eventually. The tower’s next to my room and connects to the Elizabethan wing on both floor levels and the lift is in there, too.’
He opened the first door we came to, on the left. ‘This is the corresponding room to mine, so when no one else is staying we’ll have a bathroom each.’
The room was very large and I was drawn immediately to thewindow, though it was too dark to see much of what must be a stunning view out of it, down the terraces to the lake and woods.
Carey said musingly, ‘I have no idea what’s under that horrible wallpaper above the panelling. And why paint the woodwork dark green? It’s the sort of municipal shade they use on park benches.’
‘Who knows?’ I said. ‘But the bed is lovely, isn’t it? Very Arts and Crafts! And that tapestry, too …’
I peered at it. It was a little faded, but seemed to be the Lady of Shalott.
‘The room will look so much better when I’ve finished with it,’ Carey said, which it would. Carey’s art in transforming houses always made me think of the way diamond cutters could reveal the beautiful gem inside a dull pebble. He was not the kind of historical purist who wanted to strip a house right back to the probably hideously uncomfortable and impractical original, just pare back the worst excesses from successive periods, without removing its character.
He felt that a cottage that had been occupied for generations should show signs of it – layers of individuality, but with the original bones of the house showing through. It was an art I really admired, along with his unquenchable thirst for learning new skills.
Of course, the downside was that he got bored quickly and moved on to the next thing, but he didn’t forget anything he’d learned to do, it was just added to his extensive repertoire.
When we were children, this succession of short-lived enthusiasms used to drive me mad, but I came to understand how they fused together later, in his work.
‘If the rest of the house is like this, then it will need some extensive TLC – starting with a damned good spring clean!’ I said. ‘Someone could at least have polished the furniture and the windows occasionally!’
