This place is perfect!’ Helen said happily, giving her husband John a kiss before he set off for work.
‘You going to be all right finishing the unpacking?’
‘It’s only a few boxes. I’ll be fine. And the kids will be kept amused playing outside. See you later.’
The house, situated in a small village in the countryside, was a safe haven far from the madding crowds. At least that’s how Helen liked to think of it.
It had a picturesque look to it, with its unevenly sized grey stones that made up the walls and the slightly misshapen slate roof, which nobody noticed until they looked closely, all adding to its old-fashioned charm.
They had always dreamed of owning a house in the middle of nowhere, with a small stream running at the bottom of the garden. Although theirs was more of a gentle trickle. The only place they warned the children not to go near was the overgrown millpond in a nearby field, as the water looked dark and dangerous.
