‘I’ve been lost, for a long time now. The first day I hobbled in here, bashed up and beside myself, I could still feel the peace oozing out of these walls. This place is a priceless treasure, buried underneath the grot of neglect and… and heartbreak. It would be an honour, the best thing I’ve ever done, to do this. If you don’t want it, can’t face the disruption or the mess or the strangers, then I’ll close the notebook and move on. But don’t not do it because you think I’m following a whim, or a guilty conscience. Honestly, I think if you say no then I’m just going to start looking for some other falling down farmhouse and buy that instead.’

Daniel looked at me for a long moment. I tried not to worry about what he really saw. ‘Okay.’

I think my whole face was beaming.

‘To the first step!’ Daniel clarified. ‘Sorting out the place to make it nice for Hope. Then we can rethink what to do next.’

I held up my glass in a toast. ‘The first step.’

Daniel shook his head as he raised his glass, but his eyes were smiling.

The logical place to start was the main living room. A large, L-shaped room with wooden French doors at one end, and enough seating for at least ten people, if you didn’t mind threadbare, sagging armchairs or a couple of dubious looking stains. As well as the seating, there were built in floor-to-ceiling shelves either side of a fireplace with a paint-chipped mantlepiece, various mismatched side tables, a scuffed bureau and a TV cabinet containing an old video player and even older TV.

The clutter wasn’t terrible, it was more the general air of tired neglect, reinforced by cobwebs in every corner and dust so thick it felt almost greasy.

Daniel had given me free rein to do what I liked with it all, as long as I didn’t get rid of the photographs, books and any other personal items I happened upon. I spent a day sorting the ornaments and other smaller items into stay, go or upcycle. I dusted what felt like hundreds of books, resisting the temptation to sit and read the whole lot while putting a few to one side for later. The moth-eaten curtains were unsalvageable, but after a good wash some of the sofa covers came up okay. The following day, Hope and I visited a discount interior warehouse and picked up a load of brightly coloured cushions and matching throws, along with new lampshades, drawer handles and plain cream curtains to avoid detracting from the incredible view beyond the window. By Friday, I had scrubbed away the filth, swept up the insect carcasses, and to my delight when Daniel helped me roll up the grubby carpet, we discovered solid oak floorboards underneath. I nipped back to the warehouse and splashed out on a couple of rugs.

Saturday and Sunday, we painted the walls a soft, buttery yellow, and then came the fun bit – putting everything back again. I used the furniture to create two separate areas, one focused on the fire, the other around the French doors. I finished off with fresh flowers in a pair of stunning vases I’d found in the kitchen, along with a few candles, plus I replaced the faded oil paintings of shire horses and farm implements with photographs of the family and what appeared to be an old map of the farmland that I found in the bureau. The overall effect was bright, tranquil and scrumptiously cosy. Given time, and a bigger budget, I’d replace the fireplace with a log burner, and repaint some of the furniture, get the sofas professionally re-covered. But for step one, Daniel and I had to agree, while celebrating with takeaway pizza and a couple of beers, it was not half bad.