Thorn COTTAGE

They fell in love with the house, but did it harbour a dark secret?

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Joe and I fell in love with the cottage as soon as we saw it. It was pure chance, or so I thought at the time, that we did see it. Somehow we got lost on a journey we'd made several times and found ourselves on a narrow lane that we'd never driven down before.

'We should go back,' I said. Joe replied that he would turn around as soon as there was a passing place. Then all at once we came to Thorn Cottage.

Intrigued, we got out of the car to take a closer look. It had obviously been empty for years. The hedge in front was overgrown with brambles and nettles. The garden was a mess of untidy shrubs and out-of-control bushes. The cottage had a thatched roof that needed repair, rotting window frames and a front door hanging off its lintel.

But ... oh! The windows were those pretty lattice-paned ones. The door had a trellis round it, up which a rose with beautiful pink flowers was trailing. Lilies and cornflowers and poppies grew among the weeds. It was perfect.

Lying in the grass was a board announcing that the property was for sale.

'Do you think it's still available?' I asked. 'Could we afford it?'

'We can but ask.'