Channel 4’s Grand Designs usually has a happy ending, but not all self-builds are so blessed. Try as she might, Gaynor Gibson has found it hard to shake off the memories of the slog it took to complete the house she is now trying to call home — and she’s had enough.

Gibson and her family have been in the house for only nine months, but as she sits in her lounge — with its stunningly angled wooden beams, 22 window panes and 30ft-high ceiling — she aches for a cosy fire and some Victorian cornicing. Perhaps even a slight draught to remind her of her youth, growing up on a council estate in Liverpool.

Gibson has long had a penchant for the past. In fact, in September, she is planning to open a tea shop — to be called Loopy Lorna’s — that will be all quaint china and delicate cake stands. However, she decided to give her husband’s desire for modern living her best shot.

Their new house offers much at which to marvel. There is the sound of silence, for one, despite being close to one of Edinburgh’s main arterial routes into the city centre. Then there are the Amazonian proportions of the surrounding forestry; and the feat of engineering required to bolt this cut-glass jewel of a building onto the side of a valley.

It was so neat a fit that it required six floor levels inside and a few tiers of garden outside.

Its address, No 7b, suggests a tiny extension, but it’s bigger than its neighbours to the extent that its dining room is the size of a one-bedroom flat.

Nevertheless, Gibson’s heart is set on something Victorian in the likes of North Berwick, in East Lothian, complete with an Aga. And her husband and children are conceding to her wishes without a fight.

“I have simply found I am not a modern person,” she says. “I do like this house, and I said I’d give it a go, but I’ve done the new-house thing, and it’s not for me. It’s a great house for entertaining, and I’m sure people will find it strange that I feel this way.

“You sit in the television room downstairs and you look out and all there is is greenery. The place is so well insulated, my daughter had a birthday party recently and I heard nothing at all until I opened one of the doors, to be hit by this wall of sound.”

It was a two-year build, and the memories remain fresh and raw. The engineering that must have gone into it is striking. Given the narrow road that leads to the house, it wasn’t as if a crane could be easily or conveniently driven up to the front door. This was clearly a Herculean undertaking, involving a lot of manpower.

“If you do anything for two years, I think it inevitably loses some of its shine,” says Gibson. “Technically, it was a very challenging house to build. There was a lot of digging out at first, and it wasn’t easy to transport all of the material out. Getting a crane in involved crack-of-dawn visits, using the next door’s garden. It was very hard work. I don’t see it the way other people see it.

I see it brick by brick.

“And you’ve done your sums wrong if, at the end of a self-build, you end up finishing it on time and on budget — so we finished late and over budget. We’ll easily cover our costs, but that doesn’t include the time and emotion that has been put into the place.”

Might her resolve be wavering, though? It would be no surprise if it was.

“I came back from holiday the other week, and we pulled into the drive, at which point the automatic lights came on and, I have to confess, I was really impressed. And when I saw photographs of the place the other day, I did find myself asking, ‘Do we live in that lovely house?’ ”

With six bedrooms, four bathrooms and a cloakroom, the house extends to nearly 5,500 sq ft. The kitchen comprises an ergonomic layout, with every conceivable gadget — except an Aga.

The couple embarked on the project because it was for sale, with plans already drawn up — by a local architect, Charles Girdler — and with planning permission already secured. It was a development that was relatively risk-free: if it didn’t work out, it could always be sold. Gibson’s husband, a builder, is reluctant to say how much the construction cost — save to point out that if they sell at the asking price, they will make a profit.

Sophisticated and hidden television, music, heating and lighting systems are embedded in a small room operating as the communications hub.

“This perhaps sums it all up for me,” says Gibson. “We have all this fantastic technology, but I don’t want to switch a fire on using a remote control. If I want to put a light on, I want to press a proper light switch.”

No 7b Glenlockhart Valley, Edinburgh, is on sale through Knight Frank, offers in excess of £2m, 0131 222 9600, www.knightfrank.co.uk

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