That day

One day, you wake up and the sun is glinting through the glasses in the breakfast room at the b and b, there is a tension in the air that wasn’t there yesterday. The light is brighter, the trees have stepped into fairy-tale mode and the beach in February is warm and calm. We drank tea and ate chips, chatted to locals, and felt we had returned home. These boats had been waiting for us. The chance remark by a little old lady in a newsagents that there was one bungalow for sale, was enough. The next day we were inside, having traveled home an hour and back again, dog and child already at home in the garden, and when the agent rang to ask if there were any thoughts on the purchase.. I heard myself answering I’ll buy it. I had no money, or plan, and in twelve weeks new people would be in our current house, it having sold in two. But this was going to work. We were home.

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