Nestled in a surprisingly private plot near Dalston is the family home of Henry Thorold, an architect, and Jess Ayers, who leads a climate foundation. For 10 years the couple – who now share the space with their two energetic boys, Felix, seven, and Fred, five – have revelled in the seclusion of what was once a railway worker’s cottage. The modest building predates 1865 and is positioned between a tavern and the tracks: not a single window overlooks their mature open garden. To their left is a blank and weathered wall home to fledglings in spring. To their right is an identical cottage that shared the same cellular quality of space – something Henry (one half of Mosley Thorold Architects) gradually began to address…

Unusually, after an in-depth discussion with their neighbour, the couple planned to extend both humble brick buildings. In 2018 they began the project and by the following autumn, a pair of symmetrical timber and glass forms had replaced the once awkward kitchenettes at the rear of each cottage – opening out and up into the green space and sky beyond. Internally, deft use of level changes, thorough consideration of sight lines and respect for “the soul of the building” has led to the creation of an uncomplicated tranquil bolthole, which encompasses both the intangible charm of the original worker’s cottage and the clever connectedness of contemporary family living. No wonder they are both reluctant to leave. As their home comes on the market, Henry and Jess reflect on life here – and get set for a whole new project.

Jess: “We were living in a first-floor flat on Highbury Hill before buying this place. I remember seeing it and just falling in love. Initially, Henry thought the cottage was too small, but we reconsidered the plans and realised that we could make it into something really special.”

Henry: “The two main living spaces on the ground floor had already been opened up, while upstairs had two dinky bedrooms and a bathroom. The site itself, however, made the house incredibly charming. The cottage is positioned between a railway line and the large, blank flank wall of our local pub, The Railway Tavern, so rather than being in the middle of a long terrace with an array of overlooking windows, we’re nestled at the base of an urban cliff. It felt like a private enclave. We thought if we could do anything to this we’d only want to add to the existing character of the site.”

Jess: “The overriding ambition for us was to create a sense of calm. With two small kids and two full-time jobs, life is quite chaotic so we wanted to maintain the feeling that this is our own oasis – and I think Henry has really pulled that off.”

Henry: “Our next-door neighbour was also considering changes to her home. After some discussion, we decided that I would be the architect for both projects and we would submit a single set of drawings in a single planning application. That became a condition of the planning approval: we had to preserve the existing symmetry of the cottages while completing the work simultaneously.

“Before we started the work, there was a cramped, cold and awkward kitchenette that acted as an obstacle between the cottage and the garden. Rather than open it up to a flat panorama of the outdoor space, we wanted to create glimpses so there’s more of a distinction between the spaces. At the rear, both cottages now have a small projected window seat that looks out into the garden and a glass volume that looks up to the sky.

“As a practice, we strive to create spaces that are connected but distinct – and that’s what we wanted to do here; form these interesting spatial relationships between the rooms. It helps with things like furniture layout but, crucially, it also maintains a feeling of cosiness – of having nooks to retreat to.

“Subtle level changes have helped define each of the zones on the ground floor. For instance, if we’re in the kitchen and the kids are in the living room, we’re still aware of what’s going on but we can’t see the floor, which is usually completely covered in toys! Likewise, if we’re in the living area, we can’t see the built-in kitchen surface beneath the half-height wall. It’s completely hidden.”

Jess: “The kitchen window seat is my favourite place in our home. I wake up every morning exactly 20 minutes before everybody else. I come downstairs, have my coffee there and enjoy the silence before the boys come down for breakfast. That is the spot I’m going to miss the most. I also love sitting at the dining table in the evening if I need to work while Henry is in the living room. It feels private without feeling isolated. I think if I had a separate office, I’d feel left out.”

Henry: “A structural steel ladder separates the living space and the kitchen. By keeping it open, we’ve created a continuous flow of sightlines from the front door to the back garden.”

Jess: “As we live opposite the kids’ school, we often have parents popping over for tea and the first thing everyone says when they walk in is: ‘How is your house not chaos?’ That’s very deliberate. When we designed the kitchen, we wanted it to be the one corner of our lives that was calm. The massive sense of light and space has helped to achieve that, but there is also a place for everything.”

Henry: “We spend our holidays in a static caravan on the west coast of Scotland, so we have quite a lot of experience of dense living. Obviously there are constraints that come with that, but there are benefits too. Everything’s always within easy reach and we know where everything is because everything has a designated place. And that applies to our home too.”

“Upstairs, in particular, we’ve made use of all available space. For example, we’ve moved the utility from the kitchen to the landing where the boiler and washing machine are hidden behind a built-in cupboard. We’ve also installed a clothes pulley that tucks up under the roof light. We’ve kept the loft space above the kids’ bedroom but exposed the beams and ceiling binders elsewhere. Although we’ve added volume and light, we’ve intentionally been quite respectful of the language of the old building, so it retains its cottagey feel.

“We’ve used solid materials throughout, including terrazzo and ash for the Dinesen flooring and built-in joinery. Our dining table is a ‘Benchmark’ design in ash by Max Lamb. It was sized for the space, so that might be something the buyers want to keep. It’s surrounded by chairs by Carl Hansen, who also made our wall-mounted shelving unit. We also have several vintage pieces, including an oak Heal’s corner desk that fits perfectly in the space.”

Jess: “The art has mostly been gifted. We have a beautiful painting of a Scottish beach scene by our friend Claire Mookerjee. There’s a Lebbeus Woods print I bought for Henry and a framed 450-million-year-old eurypterid fossil that was a wedding present. We also have a wall-mounted Bolivian carnival mask – that’s probably our boys’ favourite piece.”

Henry: “We are definitely reluctant sellers. Although the majority of the work took place between October 2018 and August 2019, really, it’s taken us 10 years to get the house to this point. But we’re moving because we’ve outgrown the space.”

Jess: “It’s heartbreaking but it’s not quite big enough for us anymore. We’ve found a new school for the boys in north-west London, so that is where our search begins. Henry is looking for another project…”

Henry: “You can do a lot to transform a classic London terrace but, at the end of the day, much of it will be out of your control. You need to find somewhere that already has its own character because it’s the soul of the building you inherit.”

Words Nell Card
Photography Ollie Tomlinson