Went to collect the keys from the agent.  In the corner of the yard, on the top of a small rubbish heap, a 70s style idyllic coastal scene set in a large, ornate, plastic gold frame.  A bit kitsch, but made me smile. A wry suggestion of what the future holds. ‘One man’s rubbish is another woman’s treasure’. Couldn’t resist re-allocating this little piece of parody to the boot of my car and zoomed off to find out what we’ve just bought.

Ding dong. Lovely sound of the antique shop bell on entering. Then, looking round, a sharp reality check.  What’s been left after negotiating? What’s missing? What work is there to do?

An attractive array of old apothecary bottles standing witness to the arrival of their new guardian.  A few obvious sorry gaps, where prime pieces are missing. The pill maker mentioned during the dragon dens pitch is sadly absent along with the two pretty antique chairs I’d coveted on my last visit. Shelves predicably emptied of the remaining saleable stock.  Seeking out the two Victorian scales which were also discussed in the big chat. One removed but the other one gratefully still in place.

Feeling a tad sad. I wish I could have better convinced the previous owners to leave the collection intact, as many of the pieces have clearly been there from its early days as a Victorian Pharmacy and have been passed sympathetically from one owner to the next over the last hundred years or so. But I take consolation in the thought that at least the jewel in the crown,  the magnificent apothecary drawer set is still present after negotiations. It is now destined to claim back its centre stage position in the main public space.

Damp patches and peeling paintwork throughout. A wide expanse of tired old carpets amid vinyl tiles, abandoned empty prescription crates, black rubbish bags in most rooms and a huge mountain of pharmaceutical paperwork that has been overlooked in the hasty sale. Much to my husband’s amusement, a drawer containing ‘sexual wellness’ packs with out of date condoms stamped with an expiry date that matches our wedding date in 2005.

A cursory glance in some black bin bags awaiting disposal reveals some long lost original deeds. A lucky find indeed. Whilst admiring the beautiful hand writing and green ribbon binding the hand made paper, I become aware of a name that is familiar. It seems my gran’s cousin was the witness to the sale of the pharmacy back in the 80s. It underlines the general feeling most people have living here that Sheffield is a big city with small town feel. They say you are only ever one person away from knowing someone.

Strange coincidences to one side, its pretty obvious from this first proper tour of the building, that there’s much to do to address years of neglect and the palpable lack of any real investment in recent years. There is quite a bit to do if we hope to create a space fit for showing the very best in artistry and craftsmanship out there. No turning back now. Big breath. Let the fun and games begin.