‘But you were right too,’ he says gently. ‘You can learn. And it really isn’t as bad as it seems. You’ll see when you look around tomorrow. Your trees aren’t all dead. Most of them are overgrown, but they can be sheared. Weeds can be pulled. You have fields full of saplings that didn’t survive so you can dig the ground over and start again in the spring. There’s so much potential here for someone who isn’t afraid of a challenge.’

I didn’t think I was, but I’m definitely having a wobble tonight.

‘If you phone the electric and water companies in the morning, they’ll have you back on by lunchtime. As for the house, it probably needs a few repairs but it’s still structurally sound.’

‘There’s ivy holding it up.’

‘Ah, but it’s structurally sound ivy.’ He looks towards it, nearly overbalancing with the movement and his hand grabs at the seat to stop himself falling, his arm brushing against my thigh. ‘Can I tell you what I think?’ He shifts his hand back to the doorframe, waiting for a response. He wasn’t unforthcoming with his opinion earlier, but now I get the impression that if I told him to mind his own business, he would. ‘I think you come from a flat in London which has always got hot water, electricity, and central heating, and whatever you expected Peppermint Branches to be like, it wasn’t this. And now your fight or flight response has kicked in, and you’re sitting here wanting to run away, and you’re disappointed in yourself for wanting that, and you’re also a bit embarrassed because you’ve built it up so much in your mind, and seeing the actual place has left you deflated and panicking about how you’re going to deal with it.’

I try to muster up some indignation and tell him he’s wrong, but he’s hit the nail on the head with surprising accuracy. ‘How do you know that?’ I ask instead, my voice so quiet that he has to lean in to hear me.

‘You’re not the only one who’s ever made a mistake.’ His voice is just as quiet and he looks away for a moment and then turns back to me. ‘I know this house well. I don’t think there’s anything that can’t be fixed. Can I see inside?’

‘What, now?’

‘Well, mainly I’ve got to get up because my legs are killing me with cramp. I’m too old to be crouching like that for long, so I was just looking for an excuse not to admit I’m old and creaky and in agony here.’