Page 45 of The House of Hopes and Dreams
‘And now you’re going to givemethe quick guided tour … followed, if I know you as well as I think I do, by an in-depth inspection lasting a couple of days, where I follow you round with a notebook, tape measure and camera.’
‘Yes, I’m really looking forward to getting stuck in properly,’ he agreed happily. ‘The best way of discovering the secrets of an old house is to restore it.’
‘Then film the whole ongoing restoration and write a book about it, like the previous series.’
‘There’s so much more to do here than I expected that I’m starting to think this might be the basis of several TV series.’
‘I suspect you might be quite right, and there’ll probably be all kinds of spin-off magazine articles and that kind of thing,’ I said, then got up determinedly. ‘Come on, I want the tour now. Where shall we start? With the servants’ wing as the aperitif, the Arts and Crafts part as the main course and the Elizabethan wing as dessert?’
‘If you like, but the attics and cellars are a bit too substantial to be anamuse-bouchebetween courses, so we might have to snack on them tomorrow, instead.’
‘Amuse-bouche? That’s right posh,’ I said, in my grandmother’s Lancashire accent, and then followed Carey as he picked up his stick and headed for the first of the small rooms off the passage outside.
‘“Begin at the beginning and go on till you come to the end: then stop,” as the King said to Alice,’ he said, throwing open the door. ‘These steps lead down to the cellars. I’ve only really looked at the first, which has the central heating boiler in it, but the rest of them seem to go on and on.’
He moved along the passage, opening each door briefly. ‘These next three were sculleries and larders and that kind of thing. Here’s the one with the giant freezer.’
‘I’ll get Molly round soon to empty that,’ I said, and told him about her brilliant idea for disposing of the contents to some of her more elderly clients, which he thought an excellent scheme.
Next came a utility room with an old-fashioned drying rack hanging from the ceiling, but also a large washing machine and tumble dryer lined up along one wall. There was a heap of bags stamped with a laundry logo, too.
‘Snowball Laundry – that’s original,’ I said.
We moved on to a small spartan cloakroom and a few random hidey-holes little bigger than cupboards, before returning to the kitchen by way of the housekeeper’s parlour.
‘This is where the information leaflets and postcard stock for the coach parties visiting the Elizabethan wing are currently stored and arrangements made. Not that it’s exactly a money-spinner at the moment, but we can think about that one later.’
It was a tiny, slightly gloomy room, with a soupy brown chenilletablecloth over a claw-footed pedestal table, some deal shelves laden with small cardboard boxes, a tin cashbox and a ledger.
‘If you expand that side of things, you could turn this into a proper office, with a computer and desk and so on,’ I suggested.
‘I’ve got another room earmarked as an office-cum-studio,’ he said. ‘I’ll show you in a minute.’
The kitchen by now felt like my second home, especially with Fang snoring like a miniature buzz saw in his basket, but I hadn’t yet been in the servants’ hall that led out of it. It had a window to the front of the house, as well as one at the side, so was quite light and airy … or it would be, if the shrubbery was pruned back a bit.
‘It isn’t used because there haven’t been any servants living in for years, and of course it’s quite plain – none of the Arts and Crafts touches in here!’ he said. ‘Perfect for making a studio/office once the table and random chairs are taken away.’
‘If you can get that big table out!’
‘Easily, because it’s in sections. You can remove leaves till you end up with something really small, that’s no problem. We could share this space, if you like, unless you’d prefer a room of your own to work in?’
‘No, a corner in here would be fine, because I’ll have a studio area in the workshop, too: that big back room with the sink that looks as if someone has used it as a tool shed.’
‘I thought I’d have a door knocked through into the main part of the house – the formal family dining room is next door – then if we want to, we can always expand into there, or have a room each. There’s enough space to get at least twelve people round the kitchen table, so I don’t need a separate dining room.’
‘But it might be nice for Christmas dinner, or celebrations,’ I pointed out.
‘Yes, I suppose you’re right. There’s no rush to make any major changes anyway … and your eyes have glazed over,’ he added. ‘I didn’t think I’d have bored you already.’
‘No, I’ve just had a brainwave: you know I ended with tons of material about female glass craftswomen of the Victorian era when I waswriting my dissertation? Well, I’m going to turn it into a book, with an expanded new section about Jessie Kaye.’
‘That’s a great idea, Shrimp!’ he enthused. ‘And being at Mossby is bound to inspire you.’
‘I’d be even more inspired if you finally let me see some of her windows!’ I said, and he laughed.
‘OK, come on!’ He headed back out to the kitchen. ‘Until I get that door knocked through into the dining room, we have to go this way and up the passage through the baize door …’
But he’d lost my attention the moment the door swung closed behind us, for I was gazing, entranced, at the half-glazed inner walls of the long narrow entrance hall. Light filtered in from the room beyond, enough to make out the shapes of bending leaves and rippling grass, enhanced by the clever use of reamy and seedy glass, while the rich amber roses on tall stems swayed against the palest of blue skies. The effect was like a bright garden under water …
