After my last disastrous encounter with those closest to Jackson, I am incredibly nervous about meeting his parents. Our trip down from London is filled with tense silences as I mentally prepare myself for what today might be like but once we leave the motorway I get lost in the scenery as we enter the New Forest. The small herds of free-roaming ponies are a welcome distraction from my increasingly self-destructive thoughts and finally feel some of the tension leaving my body.
When we finally pull into the drive, wheels crunching on the gravel, I find my mouth dropping open in wonder. Instead of the cutesy, chocolate box-esque cottage I was expecting when Jackson invited me to lunch with his parents, this house is the opposite. Sleek lines and angles are at complete odds with the lush woo
