The last steep stretch of the cattle-gridded track demands a shift into first gear. Risby Manor is perched, elegantly, on the very edge of the rolling Lincolnshire Wolds. If it weren’t for the morning mist clinging stubbornly to the landscape, I would be able to see Lincoln Cathedral, thirteen miles away.
It was the complete renovation and extension of this grade II listed Georgian building that earned one-to-watch interior designer Sophie Peckett a prestigious Property Award in 2015. At the front of the house, capacious pots containing sculpted box flank an Italianate portico, which Sophie added to the façade to ‘give the house that entrance.’
But a door opens at the side of the house and I am invited to enter another way. Stepping over the threshold, my senses are pleasantly ambushed. The heady scent of lilies fills my nostrils; my vision is eager to absorb what might oxymoronically be described as a tranquil riot of colour and pattern.
Flooded with natural light, the open-plan space evokes the warmth of a Tuscan villa. French doors and floor-to-ceiling windows, their frames and shutters painted the light green of avocado flesh, lead onto a stone terrace. The sloping formal garden beyond dissolves into the fog, providing a reality check: I am still in old Blighty.
Sophie welcomes me as warmly as the home she has designed. Her slight frame is casually clothed in jeans. She seems laid-back – impressive given that she is currently juggling five projects. Her personal style nevertheless mirrors the obsessive attention to detail displayed in her work, as well as her instinctive knack for combining the surprising to playful effect. ‘My taste is just to mix and match and don’t be afraid, just go for it.’ The white t-shirt she is wearing is emblazoned with a flight of shimmering swallows whilst a diamond-encrusted starfish hangs from her neck (animals also make frequent appearances in her interiors). Judging by her considered choice of accessories, jewellery is as important to her as the finishing touches in a home.
Showing me around, Sophie enthuses about custom-made furniture. She outlines the possibilities of bespoke carpentry (‘panelling in shagreen or suede, beautiful handmade handles’), talks knowledgeably about the hand-applied technique behind the distressed patina of a lamp stand, and describes the level of control one has over the detail when commissioning a handmade piece. ‘There’s this idea that handmade furniture is going to cost the earth’ she says, a myth she is keen to dispel; ‘it’s actually more affordable than buying off-the-peg from a high-end retailer.’
In the other sitting room – wallpapered with a striking Fornasetti design, in which monkeys caper across a classical colonnade – there are two identical sofas. One is an original Christian Liaigre, restored and recovered by Rowlands Upholstery in Grimsby, and the other is a facsimile Sophie commissioned. ‘And I don’t know which one it is!’ Sophie exclaims, laughing. ‘I mean that’s just it, it’s done so well that you can’t tell the difference.’ She shares Liaigre’s conviction that craft is synonymous with luxury.
When I ask whether she thinks craftsmanship is alive and well in the UK, she answers very positively: ‘I think it’s had a resurgence in the last five years’. She cites The New Craftsman gallery in Mayfair, founded in 2012, and Kit Kemp, Design Director of the boutique hotel chain Firmdale, as ‘contributors to this craftsmanship Renaissance.’
Sophie supports craftspeople local to Lincoln and London. How else does her nomadic lifestyle benefit her? ‘London is a bubble and coming up here just lets you breathe again. And it means you have clients with such diverse personalities. And I think it’s important not just to be niche, I want to be nationwide.’ Clearly, ferocious ambition lies beneath the laid-back attitude. She also has her sights set on further international projects, currently pitching for one in Dubai, ‘which I’m desperate to get.’ ‘I love travelling,’ she tells me.
But she also loves home. Born in Tealby, the village just down the road, Lincolnshire ‘definitely feels like home.’ But Sophie equally belongs in London: She recently moved into her flat in Chelsea and Kensington, having spent some time redecorating and reinforcing the ceilings for some chandeliers. ‘It’s your favourite place at the end of the day, your retreat, your sanctuary, isn’t it? I love going home.’
Risby Manor is certainly a sanctuary. As I leave, I can feel the warmth of the sun burning through the damp haze; the blue sky is being gradually unveiled. In an hour or two the panoramic scenery will be bathed in the light of a glorious spring afternoon. I ache to see it. The protesting sound my car makes as it bounces back down the steep, uneven track, seems in sympathy with my reluctance to descend from this haven on the hill.
by Emma McKinlay