The house had never been through the local estate agents’ books because it had never been sold. It had been built, over a hundred years ago, by a young couple who gathered local wood and stone and slowly, lovingly made themselves a house of many rooms in which to raise their family. Who knew where the deeds and land registry papers were? Certainly, none of the present occupants who paid the bills and maintained the fruitful gardens.

Many people had called the house home.  Family, friends, and people in need of refuge had shared love and hospitality there as well as some of life’s tragedies. No one ever wanted to leave, but inevitably work, marriage, death, or the desire to travel had torn some away, always with the hope of return.