Parting

This is the front door to the home of my oldest friend. That is, her family home, as she left many years ago to make her way in the world. I live next door in the house that belonged to my grandparents.

We were introduced at a very young age. Our days together were spent exploring. Her house was by far the more exciting option with it's seemingly infinite number of rooms. It was ablaze with vibrant textiles and treasures from all around the world. Her parents were much more 'colourful' than what I was used to, and there was always something interesting happening because they were extremely sociable.

Outside there was evidence that the house had originally been built by an affluent family. There were formal gardens, various outhouses, a game larder, dog kennels, hen houses and even a petrol pump. These had all been out of operation for decades but were incorporated into our numerous adventures.

We have gone on to have families of our own. I returned to live here while my friend established her life in France. Her mother continued to live next door until recently, when she died just a few days before her 90th birthday. One day I will write about her in a blip, as she was a fascinating and exceptional woman.

I walked around the garden today, taking photographs of the places that have come to be so familiar and feeling huge sadness. The house is to be sold soon and it will be the end of an era which has spanned almost half a century.


I wonder what will become of the house. Portions of the original estate, including the stables, were divided and sold in the forties, (This is when my grandfather bought land to build the house which I now live in. However, it wasn't built until after the war). There are few who are able to maintain or justify owning such a large property these days. I expect it will be divided into flats, used as a business, or even taken over by the council.