30 June 2026
It’s official.
The keys aren’t in my hand yet. The boxes aren’t all packed. The paperwork still isn’t complete.
But for the first time since this journey began, my heart knows the truth.
We’re going home.
Not to a Victorian townhouse with soaring ceilings and grand staircases.
Not to the dream house I imagined when I was younger.
But to something far more important.
A home.
For months, I’ve called it Everstede. That’s what the deeds will say. That’s what the postman will know it as.
But in my heart, it has always been Gravethorn.
Gravethorn was never a building.
It was the feeling I was searching for.
A place where memories could be carried forward instead of left behind.
A place where Tilly could grow from a little girl into a young woman.
A place where family dinners could stretch late into the evening around a huge table.
A place where books would overflow from shelves, candles would flicker in dark corners, and oddities would slowly find their home.
A place where Billie could claim every sunny windowsill as her kingdom.
A place where Joel and I could finally stop surviving and start building.
Today Lloyds confirmed they are happy with the valuation.
The survey has been completed.
The advocates are moving forward.
The boxes are slowly making their way across the island.
Even Tilly has started packing her room.
And somewhere between wrapping ornaments in bubble wrap and carrying boxes to Joel’s house, I realised something.
This is no longer a dream.
This is a plan.
There will be decorating to do.
There will be furniture to buy.
There will be countless trips to B&Q and charity shops.
There will be arguments over where things should go and far too many ideas saved on Pinterest.
There will be dust, stress, exhaustion and moments where I question my own sanity.
But there will also be Christmas mornings.
Summer evenings in the garden.
Family meals around that enormous dining room table.
Movie nights.
Birthday parties.
Lazy Sundays.
And all the tiny moments that quietly become a life.
There are people and memories I’ll be bringing with me too.
Not in boxes or bubble wrap, but in the stories, photographs and moments that helped make me who I am.
Because homes aren’t built from bricks and mortar alone.
They’re built from memories.
And we’re bringing all of ours with us.
So here we are.
One family.
One slightly chaotic move.
One very patient cat.
One packed attic.
One wrapped-up witch called Sybil.
And one house waiting for us to make it our own.
Officially, it’s Everstede.
But when I finally walk through that door with the keys in my hand, I’ll know exactly where I am.
Welcome home to Gravethorn. 🖤🏡🕯️✨🦇