Peggy realised no amount of argument would budge her, so followed her out of the room and down towards the kitchen where they both came to an abrupt halt. The room had been transformed beyond recognition, for it was now twice the size and there was no sign of the dilapidated cupboards, worn wooden draining board or faded lino.

The butler’s sink now stood proudly at the centre of a smooth wooden work surface under which was an array of cupboards and shelves along with a very smart washing machine. The old range had been ripped out and replaced by a modern gas cooker, and there was a huge fridge standing in one corner.

The floor had once again been sanded, but instead of being waxed, it had been painted white to go with the walls, the cupboard doors, the fridge and washing machine. A large window took up most of one wall and overlooked the back garden where the previous tenants had planted a flourishing vegetable patch and a couple of fruit trees.

‘It’s a bit different, isn’t it?’ Anne was grinning with delight. ‘Charlie had great fun knocking out the old bathroom and helping Frank and Ron put in an RSJ, so we could have a larger kitchen. What do you think of the fridge? It’s American, and I bought it at auction when the Yanks were selling off their kitchenware. Super, isn’t it?’

Peggy ran her fingers over the washing machine and enormous American fridge with awe and some undeniable envy. ‘My goodness, Anne. You’re very well set up, aren’t you?’

‘I know I’m lucky, Mum, but you’re earning the money now, so why don’t you do something similar at Beach View once you have the house to yourself again?’

‘I wouldn’t know where to start,’ she confessed, opening the fridge to inspect the inside, and marvel at the way the light came on to shine on the shelves and special nooks and crannies for eggs and milk, and how the bottom compartment was to freeze things.

She closed the door and gazed around in awe, for the simple act of combining the bathroom with the kitchen had given Anne a large but homely space with enough room for a scrubbed pine table and four chairs. She couldn’t begin to think how she’d achieve such a thing at Beach View – not with her bedroom, the chimney breast and the hall in the way and no room to extend back or front.

‘But where’s the bathroom now?’ she asked, leaning over the pristine stone sink with its lovely brass taps to look out of the window.

‘We turned one of the bedrooms into a bathroom, like you did at home all those years ago. Why don’t you go up and have a look while the tea mashes?’

Peggy followed Cordelia slowly up the stairs which had a runner of dark red carpet that was held in place by shining brass rods. The bannisters had been painted white, she noticed, like the panelling, and the same pretty sprigged paper lined the landing walls. It all smelled so lovely and clean, without a hint of damp and not a cobweb to be seen.