There is a new development in Great Chester that’s almost finished. A gated cul-de-sac – that might be worth a look.’
Gillian shows me photos of five lovely new houses in a private road. I am aware of the development as Jennifer, Carla and I have been closely watching the building project progress over the last year. We were planning on having a mooch around the showhouse together as soon as it was open to the public. At the time none of us had any intention of moving but we all like a nose because you can get some inspiration on how to do up your own home – it’s a good way to spend a Saturday afternoon. The showhouse opened up Easter weekend, we never got there.
The houses in the photos are certainly grander than ours. They are all basically the same with a few cosmetic differences. For example, you can choose your own kitchen units, and the tiles and carpets vary throughout. There are two different sorts of front doors to pick from. According to the listing, all the houses have five bedrooms, three with en suites, a reception room and a snug – whatever that is, somewhere for the kids to hang out, I suppose. They each have separate garages and huge kitchens. I could see myself living in one of these houses, happily. They are not too impossibly grand, but they are elegant, spacious, aspirational.
‘You’d get a level of security without feeling cut off,’ points out Gillian. This search is thoughtful of her and so close to an act of friendship that I feel tears sting in my eyes. The fact I notice the kindness somehow draws attention to the lack of it in my life at the moment. I used to want to live in Great Chester, if we could ever have afforded it. I wanted to be able to walk to my friends’ homes, knock on their doors and have impromptu get-togethers but since I’m no longer friends with Carla and Jennifer, Great Chester has lost its appeal. I don’t say this to Gillian – it would sound ungrateful. Instead I thank her, tell her I might take a look, although I won’t and then I change the subject; start talking about the party.
We pass a pleasant hour and a half. I want to linger longer but Gillian has to get back to the office. I envy her sense of purpose and business. As she stands up to leave, I feel a flush of embarrassment at being the rudderless person who does not have to be somewhere. Anywhere.
‘I don’t want to get overinvolved and push my beak in where it’s not wanted,’ she says with an apologetic grin.
‘What is it? Honestly, all advice welcome.’
She looks uncomfortable, but earnest. I recognise the expression, I sometimes wore it at the CAB when I overstepped a guideline. ‘Even if the development at Great Chester isn’t for you, can I urge you to just maybe think twice about buying somewhere too far away, or too grand, or too…’ she searches for the word. ‘Isolated.’
The first thing I spot when I arrive home is the ‘For Sale’ sign standing tall in our front garden.
‘That was quick,’ I comment to Jake.
‘Your safety comes first. Why would I delay?’ he replies. His comment is somewhat at odds with the one he made this morning about my overreacting, but it would be very churlish to grumble since he has come around to my point of view so I just nod, smile. ‘I’ve also booked security guys who will start work this evening at six. They are going to stay overnight.’
‘Where will they stay?’ I ask.
‘On the sofa.’
‘They agreed to that?’
‘People agree to anything for the right price.’ His comment is throwaway; his easy, firm belief. ‘Anyway, it won’t be for long, we’re moving out tomorrow.’
‘You’ve found a hotel? Great. Then why can’t we go tonight?’
‘Not a hotel, I’ve found a home.’ I had been edging out of my shoes, busy shrugging off my jacket and looking for a vase to put the gerberas in, but this news makes me pivot to face him. I expect him to be wearing a huge triumphant grin, an expression I’ve become accustomed to seeing when he arrives home with his latest booty. I’m more concerned that he is not smirking goofily; he simply looks decisive, firm and matter of fact. Choosing us a home isn’t a matter of joy for him, it’s his prerogative. I struggle to