Two Up, £2 down

That Vera. She was a real kidder.

A diminutive lady of a rather stooping posture, some 90 years of age and a long time owner occupier of a small terraced house in the City of York.

When I asked her how long she had lived there she came back, bright as a button, with the answer, "oh, just two weeks". I knew for a fact from my paperwork that she had actually taken up residence in 1954.

Her daughter, close to her own 70th birthday had arranged the day and time for my visit.

She had obviously inherited some of the family trait for mischief and humour as she, like her mother,  continued to try to confuse and flummox me with a steady stream of stories, anecdotes and comments.

The house was, I must say, in need of a bit of a makeover.

I could not actually work out where Vera slept, or for that matter cooked or washed as every room was rammed solid with boxes, loose collections, household items and a vast amount of ornaments and miscellanea. Of course, I call it miscellanea when in fact it will have been prized and cherised personal possessions and belongings.

Any kitchen units were concealed by piles of things, similarly the bathroom. Upstairs was the same. There was no sign of any beds.

Add to the sheer volume of items the bare plaster walls, damaged original plasterwork, stained polystyrene ceiling tiles and a few shreds of ancient colour faded wallpaper and you have a house and home in desperate need of renovation. Old Bakelite fittings were retained in the electrical system and the hot water heater was one of those scary gas geyser types that can only be condemned as being an extreme hazard.

Still, Vera showed me round with pride and fondness.

The house had served her well for the last 65 years.

I wondered whether she would be able to feel that it was the same place after the proposed repairs and refurbishments were completed.

She told me about how she had come to move in all of those years ago.

The house had been bought by another couple, just married who had felt it necessary to take in a lodger to cover costs and expenses. In such a small space it would very much be the case of three adults tripping over each other. It turns out that the wife and lodger ran off together leaving the husband with the property and its mortgage.

Having lost interest in the house he placed a small card in the window advertising a prospective rental.

The terraced row in which the house is situated is straight onto the pavement and so anything displayed in the parlour window was very visible to passers by with no pretence of being nosy or intrusive.

Vera, at that time just 24 years old and with her daughter just 5 years old had seen the advert whilst visiting her sister who lived down that street and contacted its dejected owner.

He had since felt that the house had too many bad memories and had decided to sell outright rather than rent.

Having witnessed Vera's strong spirited nature for myself I can well understand how she brokered a very clever deal with the owner in order to claim the property and take up immediate occupation.

Gratefully she was more than happy to take on the mortgage which stood at £2 a week and over the ensuing four years she diligently met the payments until the debt was paid in the sum of £450 including interest. The house was theirs.