The Giddy heaven fell

“Unless the giddy heaven fall,
And earth some new conclusion tear;
And, us to join, the world should all,
Be cramped into a planisphere.

Andrew Marvell 1621-1678
Story contd

By the time we got home I was certain that was the house for us. William agreed but was more cautious.

“It’s a hell of a responsibility to take on. We’d have to get it properly surveyed.”

I agreed. My sister Maddie was now working in London for an architect and said she knew just the man. We met up with him at the house and after, what we hoped was a thorough going over, he said the house was sound and if we were in love with we should go ahead. He also said that he and his wife had just bought a farm –house they fell in love with, in spite of a doubtful survey. He mentioned that the two steps down from the kitchen to the scullery could be a nuisance but it never bothered me.
Later when the children would stow toys in the washing machine causing it to flood I was thankful for the brick floor, where the water would just drain through out to the garden.

We sold our house making a small profit and had our offer on the Victorian house accepted. One of my girl friends offered to have baby whilst we moved in, which we gratefully accepted. Miraculously he didn’t fret at all and we were very proud of him. Mind you I think he was spoilt rotten whilst he was there.

We were under close scrutiny by the neighbours when we moved in, and as I was wearing tartan trousers from my modelling days, they were convinced we were Scottish. We had a lot of space to fill but Dodie, my mother- in- law, helped out with a carpet or two and sister- in- law Fleur had her late mother’s furniture stored in the garage some of which found its way to us. There was so much wall space and I started a life long collection of pictures and drawings – mostly repros but some originals.

Heating was a bit of a problem and to supplement the open fires and ideal boiler, we had paraffin stoves, gas and electricity fires. All had to be carefully guarded with a toddler in the house and I was thankful for the old wooden play-pen where I could safely leave my son. We designated one room as the playroom and he quickly learned to push the play pen up against the door so I couldn’t get in again and would have to go round to the window outside and persuade him to back off.

As usual, when pregnant, I was getting larger by the day and one day I left him playing in the hall whilst I went to use the downstairs loo. Suddenly I heard a noise, went to open the door and realised my little monkey had pushed the iron bolt across. As I said before the old lady had been very security conscious and had put bolts on both sides of the door. I could see my son’s navy blue eye staring at me through the key-hole.

“Darling just push the bolt back for Mummy please. Good boy darling.”

But darling thought this was an exciting new game and just said.

“Mummy! Mummy!”

This went on for quite some time and I became increasingly panicked. Thank God we were on the ground floor and there was a window with a complicated screw bolt. I had to stand on the loo (it was encased in a mahogany base and could withstand my weight) then lurch sideways to open the window. Somehow I managed to lever myself out, walk round the back of the house and let myself in to the kitchen and found little sunshine with his eye still glued to the key hole. Lessons were learned.

We were settling in happily. William seemed to enjoy his job and relished having a pleasant drive rather than a commute. I missed my friends and my wonderful help but found that with a small child and one on the way people were very friendly. One problem I had was of my own making. After we lost our beloved corgi- Havoc – I thought it would be nice to buy another for William so that he could have the dog – Sharon, to train whilst I had the baby. Unfortunately Sharon was untrainable and was the bane of my life. Any clothes hanging around were ruined but worst of all she would get out of the house at every opportunity and run into the road causing chaos.

At the end of the road lived a lady dress-maker who bred valuable dogs and when Sharon got out and attacked her miniature pincer ( I think it was) she said regretfully that unless we got rid of Sharon she would have to sue us. I was desperate and finally she said she knew lots of doggy people and knew just the chap who would be able to train Sharon. I was so relieved having been at my wits end. Sharon went off to what we were assured would be a good home and we got a feed –back that she was behaving and all was well.

Another week later we heard there were problems and would we have her back. Neither the dress- maker nor we were prepared to risk it so she stayed put and I thanked God I didn’t have to cope with her. Again lessons were learned.

All in all it was a fairly eventful pregnancy. One day I was carrying my son slowly up the stairs for our post lunch nap, reached his cot and heard a thunderous noise. The top of the stairs was shrouded in white powdery clouds. The hall ceiling had collapsed.