I spent a fascinating hour reading Miss O's hand-written recipe books and her astronomical charts and diaries, and was able to go out onto the attic balcony and imagine her plotting the stars. I stood on the balcony, looking across the roof tops, and felt so fortunate. There was still a feeling of space - room to breathe - and the roads of Sutcliffe architecture were a delight to behold. It was hard to believe that it was the start of the 21st century and I had moved to the edge of a densely-populated city. I thought back to the time I had spent living with my maternal grandmother, in a two-up one-down, in inner-city Birmingham (no bathroom and an outside privy) and had to pinch myself. Although this house was totally un-modernised (apart from the 60s addition of an immersion heater in the bathroom), I still felt comfortable and 'at home'.

I took great delight in giving people my new address - refusing to shorten it to just Wavertree - and bored workmates in Manchester to tears with descriptions of  'the sitting room; dining room; breakfast room; scullery with pantry and sixty foot garden'. In the weeks that followed, someone had the forethought to ask Wavertree Society members to take photos of the property before I moved in - and very little has changed since then! After I bought the house, I hoped to be able to invite Miss Ormerod back to her former home one day, perhaps for tea.

Unfortunately, as I'm sure everyone in the Garden Suburb knows, renovating these old houses can be anything but straightforward. And in the midst of the upheaval my luck changed for the worst, as firstly, I was felled by serious illness and then I heard the sad news that Miss Ormerod had passed away. As I continue my ongoing battle with paint removal (which is lead mixed with resin, according to one local) now and again, I often think I smell cigarette smoke. Perhaps it's my imagination, or perhaps Miss O knows the gas leak has finally been traced...

Ava Soe
November 2010

Photo:
One of Miss Ormerod's fireplaces,
1999

(Photo by the late Jim Hart)

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