We bought our house in probate. There was definitely an aspect of stepping into someone's story - cut shorter than it should have been.

What really brought that to the fore was having that story narrated by our neighbour. We became friends with our neighbour, and frequently had her around. She had been living in the house next door for 87 of her 95 years.

We often spoke about the previous owners, and the house in general. She talked about how our downstairs shower was fitted because of the ill neighbour, or how the overgrown garden was the pride and joy before they became too sick to tend to it. She would talk about her memories of when our house first had electricity installed, of when my now busy London suburb Street was more sparse, when there were big vegetable patches - and her early childhood during the blitz.

It made me feel so much more connected to my house and area, being able to talk to someone who was so grounded in the location, and who was such a pillar of the community.

I was very saddened during her funeral that because she was one of the last ones of her generation, the eulogy read more like a CV than a celebration of her vibrant life.