House of your Dreams

Rachel saw a small sign, 'Longhorn Lane', it definitley wasn't a new estate, but it looked well-kept. She was half thinking of the property - a number 62 - but her mind still sat with the handsome young bakers son. He has a charm about him, a charisma that even James from work couldn't match.

She brought her mind back to the job at hand. Number 62. Right. She was facing number 13, so she headed back up the Lane towards a grassy area, the numbers were going up in 2's. Negative numbers to her right and Positive numbers to her left. She headed across the street and looked to end - it looked vaguely like 60-something. If that was her property then she was a bit let down. It was a simple building, probably 3 bedroomed, family used. Only small with no front garden. Her great opportunity looked slimmer by the second.

She sighed as she sat on the wall surrounding her property. She could have just turned this down after all and waited for her own gem to pop up back home in London. Bloody number sixty- wait. This was number 60. This wasn't her property. But it was the end of the street. She took out her folder and looked to see if she had read it wrong, or it was a misprint. But no it was clearly stated as 62.

She looked around puzzled and slightly maddened. Was this some sort of joke by the office? Through madness, and confusion she walked off, slightly stomping round the corner and it was at that moment she saw it. A huge georgian cottage, in all its symmetrical beauty. Perfect red-bricked structure with cream window frames decorated with white shutters and window boxes. It was the picture of perfection, the epitome of the countryside and  clearly signposted as number 62 Longhorn Lane. Rachel let out a shriek of excitable emotion. If not for her sore head she'd had started singing right there.

It had gone 10am by the time Rachel had reached the property. She donned a chesire cats grin as she practically skipped down the garden path, past a row of daffodils and bluebells and up to the bolted white wood front door. Stuck to it, was a yellow post-it note with scribbled writing. The note said 'To Miss Sharpe, I have had to leave, as you were late. Please find a key under door mat and feel free to look through the house, Thankyou'. With no feelings of regret, Rachel gladly took the opportunity to view the house at her leisure.

She swung open the heavy wooden door, onto an open plan entrance. At first glance, it was obvious to Rachel that the property had been modernised right through. This was definitley a bonus, with only a small number of changes for practically, it was basically in perfect selling condition and would appeal to a wider target market. A wooden floor, decorated with a white rug led to a large wrought iron spiral staircase. Its open plan meant that light flooded from the front right through to the back, allowing for a fresh airy atmosphere throughout. The kitchen had more of a country cottage feel. It was square shaped, with a large island work surface in the middle, beech wood cupboard doors and white tiles surfaces. The kitchen attached to a conservatory come dining room, with a beautiful beech wood table, at least 6 inches thick. The living area was simple with a mounted television and all modern appliances. A large corner sofa and a coffee table finished off the simple but comfortable room. Upstairs was a bigger treat. It had six bedrooms in total. Three guest bedrooms, all decorated to its own theme, but with large french windows opening onto delightful balconies. One of the bedrooms was being used as a lounge and study and another as a childrens playroom, with split-level areas. Up a few more steps was a family bathroom, decorated white, with fresh flowers and a large window. Finally up the final few stairs was a set of beech double doors that swung open in a regal fashion.

The master bedroom, was more of a master wing. It had its own mounted television and large king sized luxury bed as the focal point of the room. As an added accessory to its cosy and comforting nature, it had an open fireplace, in carved wood and iron fixtures. A door to the left, reveal a large en-suite in complete black tile. It had a corner bath and large walk-in shower, with 'his and hers' washbasins. Back into the main room, there was another door on the right that opened up into a walk in wardrobe and to the back of the main room, was large french windows that opened up onto a large 'verandah' style, south-facing, sun trap of a balcony with a small wrought iron table and chairs that over looked the roling hills and post-card beauty of the peak-district.

Rachel was taken aback. The door to the bedroom opened and a mature woman walked in

"From your face I can tell you like the house then, Miss Sharpe?"

Rachel turned round - a look of pure amazement and excitement on her face

"Its Rachel, and to be honest Mrs Stone, Im in love"

The End

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