We bought our current house from an elderly couple. They had lived there for some considerable time. It was a bit dated, dusty and fusty but satisfied the requirements of our young family.
For the first time we would have a driveway instead of the gamble and scramble of streetside parking, a front garden rather than a forecourt or straight onto the pavement , a large rear garden in place of a yard , a garage and greenhouse to replace our previous small wooden shed. It was with some persistence that we got the house as it was in a good location , just a short walk from where we then lived, and very much in demand. The For Sale board went up on a saturday morning with viewings through a local builder who had taken it in part exchange for a larger, brand new and higher priced detached in a popular commuter village some 3 miles away.
I glimpsed the flagboard as I nosed the car out of our terraced street and immediately rang for a viewing. We were informed that it was a free for all open house arrangement that afternoon if we could get there from 2pm. The children scrubbed up well and we tried to look like we had the intention to purchase if not, at that stage, the monetary means.
The front garden was neatly trimmed to the lawn and borders behind a rather dated yorkstone wall with wrought iron railings and gates. The frontage was dominated by a large Plane Tree which had heaved up the pedestrian pavement and my eye also noticed some damage to the wall and a snaking root like a worm cast up the tarmac driveway. We had always admired that particular house. It was one of two pairs only in the street, built in the 1920's, in traditional white coarse pebble dashed walls, slate roof and a recessed balustraded balcony. The vendor, who we later ascertained from the fact that everything from garden tools to wiring loops were labelled, was of former high rank in the RAF and maintained his regimental stature even in later years. His wife and sister in law were in the background. The hallway was bright and light but with a very heavy and dusty carpet, obviously of high quality in the 1950's and now a bit faded and with a degree of shrinkage away from the skirtings. The internal doors, in profile were substantial but smooth faced as was the practice in the 1960's to cover anything panelled with hardboard sheeting. We were shown the lounge. It was by comparison to ours huge, bay windowed and with a 1930's tiled mantelpiece. The chandelier hanging from the authentic plaster rose was perfectly fitting and to scale with the room. At the back of the house with modern french doors overlooking the garden was a smaller sitting room. A large red tiled fireplace took up a good proportion of the room but housed only a single bar electric fire. Two reception rooms would have been sufficient but there was a further dining room paralell to the driveway. The aluminium window frame was responsible for a surprising amount of light for a north facing aspect. Pale green coloured cupboards filled the alcove adjacent to the chimney breast. Next, the kitchen. The fittings were a candidate for a museum, metal fronted doors, dresser type larder cupboard and formica worktops with gawdy tiling. Certainly a winner of the ideal homes kitchen of the year in 1950. The children had lost interest by now and were getting a bit bored of 'oohing; and 'aahing' at each sight presented by the next opened door.
Upstairs were four bedrooms and an ancient but functional bathroom. The smallest bedroom had a door onto the cool sheltered balcony and a deep bulkhead cupboard. It may be considered rude to look in the loft but the Squadron Leader (retired) insisted on showing more boarding out and the intricate wiring diagram he had etched out on the surface.
In the garden, a very productive one, we could expect almost total self sufficiency with fruit trees, raspberry and gooseberry canes, vegetable patch and a flower filled greenhouse. Let rip, the children claimed the garden for themselves and if we could manage to raise the funds to purchase we felt we would be perfectly at home under that roof.
As we thanked our resident tour guides and left we passed an affluent looking couple on their way in. It would take a miracle for all things to come together in our favour. Our own house was not yet on the market but wonder upon wonder we had an agreed sale within only 3 days of our Estate Agent putting up the board. My business had performed well over the previous couple of years and was in a position to forward a small deposit which hepled to coax the balance of funds from the Building Society. I did quite a bit of the fetching and carrying of paper, documents and contracts between Solicitors and within a couple of months we moved in to the big, old, draughty and dated house but it was now our home, at least for the next seventeen years.
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