June 17th, 1990
I made an offer on a really sweet house with a little garden! Mr. Nile said he expects the owners will accept the offer and if they do (fingers crossed) I should be able to move in, in four to six weeks because the house is vacant. I like it a lot and really hope it all works out.
After a yummy Sunday lunch in the garden, mum and dad came with me to peek through the windows. They both agree that the house and location are ideal. Dad wandered off and we found him talking to the neighbours across the street; a young couple with a baby. They invited us in for a cup of tea and mum held the baby while Sally showed me around their house, which is more or less the same as the one I made the offer on. They only just moved in a few months ago but with all the stuff they have, it looks like they’ve lived there for years. Dad and Steve were deep in conversation about stuff like grass and sheds and goodness knows what, until the baby started crying at the top of her lungs, thereby forcing us to make a hasty exit!
“What a racket that wean was making,” dad remarked the minute we were in the car.
“She was probably just hungry,” mum said. “Bonny wee thing isn’t she.”
“She really is lovely,” I said.
“Karen, do you think Steve looks like a young version of Richard Gere?”
“Actually, he does, mum,” I said, not daring to take my eyes off the road with dad’s beady eye focused on me from the back seat.
“He does not!” Dad said, in a way that made me laugh.
“Aye, he does,” mum insisted. “What a handsome young man.”
“He certainly is,” I uttered.
“Uff,” dad huffed. “You two!”