Claire handed me a glass of Prune & Parsnip wine the instant I stepped through the door on Saturday night. Music Club had overrun and the first half had been the dreadful, dreadful orchestra, so my need was great. We then shared the bottle in bed, discussing 20 Bentcliffe Drive, which we had visited for a second time earlier in the day. It was a proper, serious discussion, helped along by the wine, starting with what we liked about the house (all the unchangeables), moving onto what we didn't like (all the things that can be changed) and then whether to make an offer and what offer to make. I felt like a proper adult, and we both came to the conclusion that this was the house for us. It led to a restless night.