Still not Caddie. Greg, with a funny note in his voice. Would I meet him at the barn conversion he’d mentioned the other day? Now?I could think of no particular reason to be awkward, not when he sounded so boyishly eager, so I set off straight away.Before I’d even parked, I could see the reason for his excitement.The barn conversion – for some reason named the Old Barn – was utterly lovely from the outside. Inside the conversion was wonderfully sympathetic, light and airy but retaining its essential solidity. According to the spec, it was insulated to the highest standards, with all sorts of energy-saving measures built in. The latest solar panels were already in place, rainwater flushed all the loos, and movement-activated electric lighting had been installed in the bathrooms. The fitted kitchen was occupied by top-of-the-range equipment, all rated at least A+. In the vendor’s place I would have furnished it before offering it for sale, because the high ceilings and wooden floors detracted from the sense of it being a home, the very intimidating acoustic making every footstep sound as though it had emerged from the soundtrack of a B-movie.
