downstairs along with three bedrooms and a bathroom upstairs. But now the workspace is our top priority. The rest
of the house can wait.’
Neil hesitated, wondering how his next question would be received. But he reckoned he had nothing to lose by being direct.
‘Do you mind if I have a look round?’
‘Why?’ Tony Persimmon asked, suddenly on his guard.
‘I’ve a feeling it might be a very important building, historically speaking.’ In Neil’s experience, there was nothing like
a bit of flattery to oil the wheels.
Tony stood up. ‘In that case I suppose I can spare you ten minutes for the guided tour.’ He didn’t sound too enthusiastic
but that didn’t bother Neil.
He was shown the modernised rooms first. They were cosy and tasteful, just as Neil had expected. Some original features, such
as a grand inglenook fireplace in the living room, had been retained, but the overall effect was rather bland, as if the Persimmons
had been sticking religiously to the dictates of interior design magazines.
To Neil, the untouched areas were far more interesting.The two downstairs rooms seemed dark and dingy with grubby grey-green walls and flaking paintwork. But the fine oak beams,
chamfered and carved in places, told Neil that this part of the house was probably Tudor, and definitely high status. Tailors
Court was no extended peasant cottage.
Whatever furniture had been in there had been cleared out and the dusty, splintered floorboards awaited the inevitable sanding
and varnish. There was a built-in cupboard next to the fireplace in one of the rooms and Neil wandered over to open it. The
flowery wallpaper inside looked clean and new. It must have dated from the 1950s, Neil thought. The Janningses’ day. But it
had been emptied. Whoever had cleared this house out had been thorough.
‘Do you know how the place got the name Tailors Court?’ Neil asked as Tony led him up a fine oak staircase; chunky, solid
and newly polished.
‘Haven’t a clue,’ Tony replied. ‘Somebody said it was a corruption of another name but don’t ask me what it was.’ He smirked.
‘I don’t think it was ever a tailor’s shop if that’s what you’re thinking.’
‘I’m not thinking anything,’ Neil said quickly. ‘I’m just curious, that’s all.’
Tony Persimmon smiled but his eyes gave away his impatience.
‘So who cleared it out? The previous owners?’
‘There was a load of junk in here so I got a house clearer in. Told them to take the lot, after I’d had a quick look through
for anything that could be valuable, of course.’
‘And
was
there anything valuable?’
‘There was a nice dresser. Sold it to an antiques place inExeter. And a nice Georgian chest of drawers. Had it restored and polished up and it’s now in the drawing room. You might
have noticed it. Lovely piece.’
Neil stayed silent as Tony led him from room to room. There was an excellent example of late sixteenth-century wall painting
– stylised flowers surrounding a coat of arms – in the room that served as a master bedroom, prominently displayed behind
glass. He’d half expected the Persimmons to have covered it with a coat of magnolia. Perhaps he was underestimating them.
Or perhaps the local conservation officer had insisted.
Tony led the way to a couple of unmodernised rooms. There were beams here too. And panelling which looked original to the
Elizabethan part of the house.
‘I’d like to get rid of that,’ Tony said as Neil went around examining it. ‘Makes the place gloomy.’
‘I presume the house is listed?’
‘I’m afraid so. Bloody nuisance. If I’d known about all the planning restrictions, I would have thought twice before putting
in an offer. I took a loose section of the panelling off just over there by the window. There were some revolting paintings
on the plaster behind.’
This caught Neil’s attention. ‘Can I see?’
Tony walked over to the window wall and
of the house can wait.’
Neil hesitated, wondering how his next question would be received. But he reckoned he had nothing to lose by being direct.
‘Do you mind if I have a look round?’
‘Why?’ Tony Persimmon asked, suddenly on his guard.
‘I’ve a feeling it might be a very important building, historically speaking.’ In Neil’s experience, there was nothing like
a bit of flattery to oil the wheels.
Tony stood up. ‘In that case I suppose I can spare you ten minutes for the guided tour.’ He didn’t sound too enthusiastic
but that didn’t bother Neil.
He was shown the modernised rooms first. They were cosy and tasteful, just as Neil had expected. Some original features, such
as a grand inglenook fireplace in the living room, had been retained, but the overall effect was rather bland, as if the Persimmons
had been sticking religiously to the dictates of interior design magazines.
To Neil, the untouched areas were far more interesting.The two downstairs rooms seemed dark and dingy with grubby grey-green walls and flaking paintwork. But the fine oak beams,
chamfered and carved in places, told Neil that this part of the house was probably Tudor, and definitely high status. Tailors
Court was no extended peasant cottage.
Whatever furniture had been in there had been cleared out and the dusty, splintered floorboards awaited the inevitable sanding
and varnish. There was a built-in cupboard next to the fireplace in one of the rooms and Neil wandered over to open it. The
flowery wallpaper inside looked clean and new. It must have dated from the 1950s, Neil thought. The Janningses’ day. But it
had been emptied. Whoever had cleared this house out had been thorough.
‘Do you know how the place got the name Tailors Court?’ Neil asked as Tony led him up a fine oak staircase; chunky, solid
and newly polished.
‘Haven’t a clue,’ Tony replied. ‘Somebody said it was a corruption of another name but don’t ask me what it was.’ He smirked.
‘I don’t think it was ever a tailor’s shop if that’s what you’re thinking.’
‘I’m not thinking anything,’ Neil said quickly. ‘I’m just curious, that’s all.’
Tony Persimmon smiled but his eyes gave away his impatience.
‘So who cleared it out? The previous owners?’
‘There was a load of junk in here so I got a house clearer in. Told them to take the lot, after I’d had a quick look through
for anything that could be valuable, of course.’
‘And
was
there anything valuable?’
‘There was a nice dresser. Sold it to an antiques place inExeter. And a nice Georgian chest of drawers. Had it restored and polished up and it’s now in the drawing room. You might
have noticed it. Lovely piece.’
Neil stayed silent as Tony led him from room to room. There was an excellent example of late sixteenth-century wall painting
– stylised flowers surrounding a coat of arms – in the room that served as a master bedroom, prominently displayed behind
glass. He’d half expected the Persimmons to have covered it with a coat of magnolia. Perhaps he was underestimating them.
Or perhaps the local conservation officer had insisted.
Tony led the way to a couple of unmodernised rooms. There were beams here too. And panelling which looked original to the
Elizabethan part of the house.
‘I’d like to get rid of that,’ Tony said as Neil went around examining it. ‘Makes the place gloomy.’
‘I presume the house is listed?’
‘I’m afraid so. Bloody nuisance. If I’d known about all the planning restrictions, I would have thought twice before putting
in an offer. I took a loose section of the panelling off just over there by the window. There were some revolting paintings
on the plaster behind.’
This caught Neil’s attention. ‘Can I see?’
Tony walked over to the window wall and
Similar Books
