‘Right, this is it,’ I said to the builder boyfriend. ‘I am going to knock on the door of next door.’
‘I don’t know why you are bothering,’ he said. ‘Does it really matter who lives next door? You’re going to be so happy here. This move makes absolute sense for you. Just look around. It’s fantastic.’
And so it was. We were standing in front of my new house. If it all goes through I will be in for Christmas. I looked around me: England’s largest village green. And my new house nestling right on the front of it, overlooking the cricket, and the farmers’ market …an idyllic scene.
But this is me we are talking about. ‘This is me we are talking about,’ I said to the builder b, with a grimace. ‘I’ve got to knock on the door of next door and check that there isn’t a mad leftie living there who is going to hate me.
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