She was coming downstairs as he shut the door. ‘Did you have a good time?’

‘The weather was terrible at first. But the river had been low for weeks, so we needed the rain. We had some good fish in the end.’ He popped two brownies in the freezer.

Over dinner he talked and talked. ‘The ideal spot. You’d have loved it. Nice place to live. I really think we should go up and look at some of the cottages.’

Emma took their plates away and made some coffee. He tried to imagine her cooking on a range, shopping in the little market town. Peaceful life for her, no more harassment from the idiots in her office, she’d be able to do some writing, anything she wanted.

‘Coming back down the motorway, we could see the pall of dirty air over London. This is just not a good place to live any more.’

With a steady look she said,’ You know, I’ve never wanted to leave this house. It suits us fine.’

‘This house is fine, but look where it is! When you were up in Teesdale with me last year, you really enjoyed it. I’m sure the air would be good for your asthma.’

‘In lots of ways it would be good to move. But moving is such a hassle. It’s notoriously stressful, everyone knows that. I think we’d lose money on it, too.’

Paul reached into his bag and took out a paper he’d brought back. ‘This is the property page. Here’s one not far from the waterfall. Lots of negative ions. They purify the air. Prices are falling rapidly. We’d get a lovely place for half the cost of this one. We could invest the remainder to augment our pensions.’

‘Don’t forget the fees for estate agents, surveyors and solicitors… And if we wanted to come back we wouldn’t be able to afford the house prices in this area.’

They agreed to think about it for a bit longer before deciding anything.

A week later Ernie rang. ‘It’s about that cottage near my farm, you know, old Harry’s place. He’s selling up. Too old to live on his own any more. He’s moving in with his daughter in Barnard Castle. The cottage doesn’t want much doing to it. I think it’s just about what you’re looking for.’

Paul smiled. ‘Well, actually, old chap, it’s good of you to think of us, but it was just a bit of a pipe dream really. I don’t think I’ll ever get Emma to go anywhere.’

‘Dissuaded you already, has she? This is a great opportunity, Paul. You know you really want to be up here.’ Paul knew the little stone house near the river. He saw the view of sheep-covered hills, he smelt the cool, fresh air, heard the birdsong, remembered the buzzards soaring over the higher land. Here and now outside his window, traffic chugged past. Fumes, noise, people. He longed to get away from the people.

‘Well, send me the details, Ernie. I really appreciate the thought.’

When the letter came, Paul opened the envelope, took one look and passed the picture to Emma. She put down her toast and marmalade, licked her fingers and took it. He watched her eyes widen, watched them flick back and forth as she read the description. He looked as she carefully laid it on the table, picked up her toast, and took another bite.