Very tentatively I step inside, knowing this was a great place to be; to play, to hide, and to feel love. It’s been over ten years since I was last here. I take the two steps through the dark hallway, and into a brilliant place. I’m in. I don’t know if it’s me, but can you feel the chill? Is it real? Or is there spiritual air pulling me deeper into the room, spiralling, wrapping itself round the armchairs at either window, on each side of the bedroom, and draping softly over the largest double bed behind I’ve ever seen?
Wow! Nothing has changed, except time; the antiquated floral carpet now eaten at the edges; time-tainted white papered walls; always cobwebs like strands of clumped hair dangling free in the high corners of the room; the grey 1970’s top-box record player, next to Grandad’s chair; even the teasmaid remains sat proudly to the left of the bedside – my grandmother’s side - on that old wooden trolley that still has the aged circular biscuit tin underneath. Oh morning tea with custard creams!
Perhaps the view from these two large south facing windows has changed somewhat. Ha! I wonder what my grandfather would make of the superstore, once the bacon factory, at the bottom of the now modern traffic-accommodating road. Would he feel invaded by the housing development opposite, where the local creamery used to have their repair garage for their lorries? Gosh, yes! I wonder if he’d know if that lady crossing at the lights was Mrs White or Mrs Smith, who has been married to Jim, one of his many friends from the bacon factory, for 47 years?
Grandad’s view from the right side was by far the best. His view was more panoramic and interesting. Nanna would sit, sip her tea, and knit for all the family. Her view was less interesting – perhaps very simple. She was not so interrupted by each afternoon’s activities within Station Road, and just accepted Grandad’s commentary of the Totnes reality show. He was yester-year’s original live webcam, with sound!