And that’s when she saw Zac. Across the street. Standing outside the Brasserie, with his arms around a girl and his tongue down her throat. Saw him pull his phone from his back pocket, look at the screen to see who it was and decline the call. A moment later a text popped up:

Working late. Call you later babe. x

And, just like that, she saw Zac for who he really was, and her teenage heart broke.

Things Left Unsaid

Often, when things are such a mess, you can’t imagine they can improve. Deep in the thick of it, it’s so easy to feel as if you’re taking two steps forward, only to take two steps backwards; that everything is so uncertain and nothing will ever change.

Yet ironically, change is the one thing we can be certain of – nothing can ever stay the same. And while at first these shifts can be so small they’re imperceptible, gradually, day by day, little by little, they grow and build. Until one day you catch yourself in the mirror and notice that you’ve somehow lost those extra pounds. Or a date on the calendar reminds you it’s your ex’s birthday and you realize that you haven’t thought of him for weeks. Or you wake up to find that suddenly, as if by magic, the house seems to be taking shape.

It’s the beginning of June. After two months of seemingly constant setbacks, we’ve started to make progress. Years of watching fraught owners on Grand Designs had warned me about spiralling budgets, but no number of spreadsheets could protect me from the various unforeseen issues I’ve so far encountered.

If it wasn’t the discovery of woodworm or rising damp, it was a family of common pipistrelle bats roosting in the attic. Despite Ben’s assurances that everything will be fine, there have been many nights when I’ve lain in bed worrying about expensive surveys, different treatments and specially designed bat boxes, and wondering if there would ever be an end to all the problems and delays.

But gradually each hurdle has been overcome and, slowly but surely, it’s taking shape. The main shell of the extension has been built, and the kitchen has been knocked through to create a large open-plan space. It’s still a long way from being finished – one end is still open to the elements, and there are wires everywhere and rubble for the floor – but the cottage is now flooded with light. Best of all, I can see directly out into the garden, which, after a lot of hard work, is starting to really come together.

Upstairs, with the help of Valentine, the spare bedroom is almost finished. In the end I decided to go with a lovely pale yellow that catches the morning light, while on the wall with the chimney breast, Valentine expertly hung the Victorian hand-painted wallpaper I found in the garden shed. And it’s true what he said: he really is the cat’s miaow, when it comes to decorating. Seriously, I’ve never seen anyone so handy with a plumbline, lining paper and wallpaper paste.