I'm back from my trip to Paris (I returned on 1st October), and also back to work after my little vacation last week with Leon. We spent the week in a gorgeous holiday cottage here in Suffolk, just a short distance from my mum's house. There's an interesting story behind all of this and I'll tell you about it in a minute, but first I'd just like to share something new with you...

Nature Set 1
Set of 3 pebbles with hand-painted designs.
© Natasha Newton 2011
(I made these stones before I left for Paris in early September but didn't get the chance to share them with you - they're available from the Serena Hall Gallery in Southwold, Suffolk.)
Anyway, here's my slightly strange story...
As you may or may not know, I'm currently living in my mum's house since separating from my boyfriend of several years in early 2009. I owned a house with him and it was a huge step to leave the home we'd made together - and my studio - to move back in with my mum, and into the little room I now use as my bedroom AND studio (no, it's not at all practical and I need to find a new solution soon!). For the past year and a half, I've been dividing my time between Paris and Suffolk, as my new boyfriend Leon is based there. So at the moment I'm in a kind of limbo, but I try to make the best of the current situation.
To cut a long story short, Leon wanted to come to Suffolk for a week - he's never been here before and it was a great opportunity to meet my family and friends, and for us to have a proper holiday. It's been a stressful summer to say the least, and we needed a break and some time to relax. Wanting our own space away from my mum's house (and also because of a lack of room there at the moment) we started looking for a cottage to rent for the week. Then one day my mum mentioned that a little one-bedroom cottage just a minute from our house was being renovated and was going to become a high-end holiday cottage. There are two strange things about this scenario:
1. The fact that the cottage was just what we were looking for and was so unbelievably close to our house.
and...
2. I have actually been inside the cottage several times before because I was a close friend of the lovely old lady who used to live there - her name was Ollie.
Ollie sadly died a couple of years ago, and apparently she died in the house, asleep in her armchair in the living room, which slightly freaked me out at first but then I realised I was being ridiculous - after all, she died peacefully in the home she loved at the age of 92 - there's nothing strange or spooky about it.
Anyway, we rented the cottage for the first week in October, and turned up late on Saturday night after the somewhat lengthy trip from Paris. I had mixed emotions about entering the house for the first time since her death - a small part of me was wondering whether I really would be too freaked out. When we stepped through the front door I was astonished by what a beautiful job the new owners had made of the renovation. It was completely different to Ollie's style of decorating (which involved lots of pink, lots of knick-knacks, and a lot of brass). :) It looked so different that it didn't feel too odd being there at all. Everything was fresh and new, and the house was decorated in a simple yet luxurious modern country style. The bed was incredible - like sleeping on a cloud!
Then one day (I think it was a couple of days after we arrived - certainly no more than that) I was walking up the stairs when I was hit by an incredibly strong floral smell. I went up and down the stairs a few times trying to work out where the smell was coming from, but every time I moved from that exact spot (maybe a metre or two) the smell completely disappeared. A few steps down the stairs and the living room smelled of nothing but new carpets and furnishings, and a few steps to the top of the stairs and on to the landing and it smelled of...well, not much at all really. The only thing I could smell there was, again, the faint smell of new carpet and the fresh smell of whatever products we'd been using in the bathroom earlier in the day.
I was so shocked by the strength of this smell that I called Leon and asked him whether he could smell it. His answer was something like, "faintly, but it's not a strong smell." To me, it was like walking into a wall of scent - a very definite smell and incredibly strong, and it was nowhere else in the house apart from this small space on the stairs. It hadn't been there before, but I knew what it was. The moment I smelled it, so many memories came back to me. Because it was Ollie's smell. A combination of her perfume (or whatever products she used) and the way the house smelled when she lived there. I'd forgotten all about this particular smell until it reappeared.
Oddly, I didn't feel freaked out (probably helped by the fact that Leon was there with me), and I set about trying to find another reason for the strong scent. I couldn't find one. I searched the house for those plug-in air freshener things, just in case it was that (it wasn't - I couldn't find any), and I was at a loss to explain it rationally. It wasn't a 'normal' scent or smell that gradually fades away when you walk away from it. It was there on the stairs - and incredibly strong - yet if I moved one way or the other just a few steps it was gone. It was contained within a tiny area.
This isn't the first time that something like this has happened to me - I have repeatedly smelled the distinctive scent of my grandmother since she died over 20 years ago. We were very close, and the first time it happened was just a few weeks after her death. My mum smelled it too, when I called her into my bedroom (the room my nana always used to stay in at Christmas when she visited us for a few days) saying, "It smells like nana!", so I know I didn't imagine it. It has happened several times since, even in the house I used to live in with my ex-boyfriend, but this is another story that I'll possibly tell you someday.
Whatever you think to this, I'll just end by saying that over the next few days and nights in the cottage last week, whenever I went up or down the stairs, I would breathe in deeply and try to detect the smell again. It never reappeared. I never smelled anything like it again. That section of the stairs just smelled of nothing. Leon asked me if I thought it was Ollie, maybe just "paying us a quick visit". I said I thought it must be. I have no other explanation.
It wouldn't surprise me. Ollie loved her little house (and was incredibly proud of it), and for years we were very close. She told me some amazing things and was always full of stories about her life, and oddly, she also repeatedly told me she was convinced that I was "going to be famous one day". (Well, I guess we'll wait and see if that comes true!). She often had premonitions, and she was also very religious and had a total belief in life after death.
I'm not quite sure what to make of all this, but I know that I can't wait to stay in the cottage again someday. We had a really wonderful week.