New beginnings

After the sudden loss of my fiancé, life changed dramatically. Our family home became a house, and life had no purpose. Then came the coach house. Without really looking for a new place to live, this beautiful old cottage — full of history, stories and bursting with character — became something positive. Of course it wasn't the safe, sensible option. Plenty of people told me I was mad. But deep down I just knew it was right.

I will never forget the day I opened the door with my new keys. I took a deep breath and told myself I had to start living again. For myself, for the children, and for the love I had lost. This house gave me a focus and a future. I threw myself into uncovering the overgrown garden, stripping back walls, finding the old layout and hidden fireplaces. The excitement grew, and looking forward became a possibility again.

Eighteen months later, I've fallen in love. I didn't expect to love it the way I do. There are fruit trees in the garden, floors that aren't remotely level, and a creak on the third stair that I refuse to repair. Even our first winter couldn't change my mind — no insulation, and radiators that barely warmed. This house still had my heart. A hundred and twenty-odd years of other people's lives in the walls, and now ours.

The candles started at the kitchen table, the way most things do. A few for the house, a few for friends, then a few too many for that to be the whole story. It became something new to do, something to fill the evenings. With constant help and encouragement from all the children, and many late-night ideas and conversations, The Coach House Company was born. Could this house be my new beginning? Only time will tell.

— Miranda