Intro
The car finally stopped at the end of the dirt road, which had seemed particularly long. It was time, because I was starting to ache everywhere after those two hours of driving, in the North of England, especially the last half-hour where the succession of small dirt and gravel roads had worn my back.
I unbuckled my seat belt and looked at the place around me. A magnificent manor was standing in front of us, a beautiful British Victorian style home. My husband gave mr a big smile, stretched, then got out of the car. I did the same, trying not to damage my heels on the muddy ground.
The sky was gray, but at least it had stopped raining. We advanced quietly towards the staircase that gave access to our new home. The door opened, and a small and bald man, who was probably over 60 years old, advanced toward us. He was dressed with a black suit and white gloves, the perfect idea that I had of a butler.
“Welcome to the McBride’s manor,” said the man in a soft, sober voice.