Her heart thudded, she started to pant, then to talk herself down. It was the sound of birds, ravens cawing from the woods, an alien sound, one she had not heard for a long, long time. The curtain was drawn and the fast recall of the evening made her feel good until she looked out of her window. ‘Holy shit.’ Now she took in the derelict gardens, the dank, dark poolside. ‘Oh, my God, what have you got yourself into, gel?’ She was used to rising at six and she listened at her door, could hear no sound of movement so she went out on to the landing. In the cold light of morning, she moved silently round the old manor, peeking into each unoccupied room, from the attic to the ground floor, her heart sinking at every level as the realization dawned of what she had let herself in for. The place was a monster, not only in proportion but the run-down state of the house was obvious, from the peeling wallpaper to the cracked ceilings and crumbling woodwork. The banister rail was fine, thick mahogany, but many of the pegs were missing and the carpets worn and dangerous on the old wide stairs.
