1 – 3 OCK St, Abingdon – the strip

Miles of plastic trunking! Good riddance

The strip out has begun. First the electrics and then the heating. Forty years of bodge and fudge, ruining the look and feel of a lovely Georgian building, all removed in a matter of days. Banished to the skip, or recycled in the hope that it will be put to better use next time.

Pipes in a false ceiling.

The manner in which a building has been damaged only becomes apparent when that damage is removed. Much of it is superficial and will be easily repaired but it is not difficult to condemn those that prefer the easier solution to the proper solution. But then we now live in an age when time is money and why take two hours over a job when you can bodge it in one! Anyway, the building already has a better feel to it now that it has been liberated from some of  its scarring features.

The “inside/out” archway before pipework removed.

Taking the building apart before putting it back together again helps to reveal some of its true character. The original building is early Georgian, around 1760, but it is clear that it has been added to over the years, with the most recent elements perhaps early or mid – Victorian.

The “inside/out” arch once pipework removed.

Removing a ceiling in the rear hallway to gain access to the heating pipes revealed an arch. What became immediately apparent is that the arch belonged originally to an outside porch, yet now it is inside the building. It is a lovely feature and now exposed will remain so and become a prominent and interesting part of the structure.

On its way out.

This weekend we removed a number of the non-load bearing walls, some relatively modern, others dating back to when the building was first built. We are keen to preserve the original building as much as possible but the best way is to preserve it is to render it useful. The building needs to be fit for purpose. Opening it up internally means it is better equipped to meet the requirements and demands of a modern office environment and that in itself should help to ensure its preservation.

The removal of the wall between the proposed reception room and the entrance hall revealed a large oak beam that must have taken many men to install back in 1760. It is enormous and made us consider what life must have been like for the builders of the day. No power tools or hydraulics, no mechanised lifting gear or Acrows, just skill, knowledge, grunt and brute force. Anyway, having exposed the beam we will now make a feature of it.

Now gone! The partition wall to the hallway.

Upstairs we intend to convert three rooms into an (almost) open plan suite that has a flow to it that is conducive to a professional office. This involved opening up one of the back walls to the original building, complete with horse hair and dung plaster.

Horsehair and dung!

The structure of the wall will be retained, and glazed, preserving and revealing its secrets at the same time. We also revealed an old door opening in the wall which we can probably utilize in the design of the reborn building, although not in the ideal position from a design point of view. An old book was found inside the wall, with a 1830 date. The subject? A book on mathematics dealing with the calculation of vulgar fractions. Conclusion, there were scholars  living in the building at the time.

First floor partition, originally an external wall.

All in all it is great fun taking the building apart. As its secrets are revealed our plans can change, but more importantly it gives us the opportunity to retain features that are worthy of retention.

The next step is to have some asbestos removed. An inevitable hazard that comes with old buildings that have been renovated in the past. That work is scheduled to start tomorrow then we will have more builders strip, when we will make a start on getting external walls removed. Only then will we truly get a sense of the shape and form that the “new” building will adopt.

Given the fact that we have revealed yet more secret doors it seems appropriate to feature yet more stories written by pupils of Rush Common School, Abingdon:

Maid and a Garden by Issy B

I had woken early in the morning as it was still pitch black and deathly silent.  I laid still in my rough sheets and waited.  It was a long wait until the smallest of birds began to sing and then again it was silent.  I decided to try and clean my small claustrophobic room but I could not because all the candles had melted down into gooey messes.  There was always left a candle hidden on the top shelf but that was for emergencies only, plus I could not reach the cupboard as I am small for my age – 14 – just old enough to work for a rich family.  I am a house maid.  Maid of all work, basically.  I’ve got long ginger hair.  Mistress says I’ve got an attitude attached to it but I disagree.  Sarah and Miss Pollen work with me.  Sarah is a house maid like me but she’s 18.  She’s very nice though.  On the other hand Miss Pollen is mean to me.  Suddenly, there was the tweet again so I decided to have a look.

I’m never actually allowed to go into the Master’s garden because Mistress says that I’m a nosy little madam and I should mind my own business.  I put on my scratchy uniform and itchy cap.  I walked down the stairs carefully making sure that I did not allow the steps to creak.  I tiptoed quietly down the hall making sure to feel my way through the walls as it was still pitch black.  I tried to feel a doorknob but all I could feel was the rough plaster of the walls.  There it was!

There it was – the door.  I could just about see a crack of sunlight coming through the bottom of the door.  But wait a minute – was it sunlight?  Surely Mistress had woken up by now?  I reached out and felt the smooth doorknob.  As I pushed the door the wallpaper cracked and broke.  I gently pushed open the door and there was a soft creak.

There was a magnificent, amazing Georgian garden before my eyes.  There were rivers and trees, flowerbeds and streams.  Right in the middle there was an absolutely enormous oak tree.  There was a little blue piece of ribbon in my hair.  I took it out and tied it to a little branch of the oak tree.  I tied it on because it was special – my own secret garden.  I stood there gazing at the wonderful things before my eyes.  I was absolutely amazed. 

Wait!  Where was my lucky brooch?  I put it on this morning on my fabric apron.  This was dreadful!  I kept saying “I will find it” in my head but I could not see it anywhere. 

There was a man lurking in the far distance  He was wandering over to me.  He looked like a gardener by the clothes he was wearing but still I kept my distance. 

“Is there a problem?” he said.

 “Yes, I’ve lost my lucky brooch” I said.  It has coloured stones in the shape of a peacock”. 

“I’ll help you find it then” he said.

So together we searched and searched.  Eventually we found it in a patch of blossoming red branches.

“Thank you very much.  It’s just this brooch was given to me by my long-lost mother”  I said happily.

“Well it’s very beautiful.  You’re not too bad yourself”  he said. 

“That’s very kind of you” I said.  “Is that the time?  I’d better be going.  Do you know the way?”

But he had already gone.  I looked into the far distance beyond the flowers and trees and saw a bright blue ribbon hung on the giant oak tree.  So I skipped off past the vegetables, roses and poppies, tied my blue ribbon back into my hair and ran to the door.

 Ock Street Story by Lillian C

I approached the large oak door nervously.  I was here to survey the old house to see if it could be used for anything.  I fumbled with some keys at the heavy lock.  The Georgian house loomed majestically over me, taller than the trees that grew around it.  It had been built of ash wood and clay bricks, then painted dazzling white.  It looked like it had grown straight out of the ground like a giant plant.  Red roses climbed over the walls and ivy completely covered the house, turning it a brilliant green.  The gravel path looked like plenty of people had walked down its pale grey stone.  Small bushes lined the path, that needed cutting back.

The door creaked open and inside was another world – darkness instead of bright sunlight and cold and damp instead of warm and dry.  I flicked the cover off my flashlight and pressed the “on” button.  I shone it round the hall and gasped in disgust as a small family of rats raced away from the light towards a dark hole that was obviously their home.  I opened a door to my right and went into another dark, dreary room, but there was a door in this room too.  I opened the door and came into another room with yet another door.  I tried one of the keys and it turned in the lock.

I was very shocked when the door opened because of the brilliant bright light that filled the room.  Through the door a beautiful garden lay glistening with dew in the early morning sunlight.  Forsythia and lavender lined the edge while statues covered with trailing ivy stood here and there and a fountain stood in the middle spraying clear blue water.  Roses swung in the slight breeze and birds chattered in the trees.

But in the middle was a huge slobbering guard dog!  It turned its head slowly and stared at me with piggy eyes.  It was slowly and menacingly getting closer.  I spotted a path snaking away through the trees so I edged closer and broke into a run.  The dog, although big, was also enormously fat so it was very slow.  Its top speed was a walk so after one of the twists in the path I scampered up a tree and hid.  The fat dog (who had no sense of smell whatever) lumbered past.

I scrambled down the tree and raced to the door.  I hurriedly opened it, my hand shaking with fear, and jumped inside.  I slammed the door shut with a sigh.  I reached into my pocket and closed my hand around two things; one was the key and the other was a tube of super glue.  I locked the door, and then using the super glue, glued the door to the frame.  I was safe. 

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