When I was ten, my great-aunt died and left me a house. I didn’t even know I had a great-aunt, until I came home from school and read her solicitor’s letter. It was headed ‘The late Miss Annabel Marriott.’
Dad was reading over my shoulder. ‘That’s my Aunt Annabel!’
Enclosed with the letter was a note in precise, old-fashioned handwriting. My grandmother left me this house and it changed my life. Now it’s yours. Use it well – and be brave! Annabel There was an address underneath - and a key taped beside it.
‘Can we go and see it?’ I whispered.