A good number of Sutton Courtenay’s older houses are not thatched so much as partly thatched. The original range carries thatch and a later addition carries tile or slate, or the reverse, and the two meet somewhere along the building. That junction is where almost every rooflight conversation in this village ends up, because it is the line between where a unit can go and where it cannot. This page is about working with a part-thatched roof honestly.
Why a rooflight does not go into thatch
Worth setting out properly, because people assume it is a planning objection and it is mostly not.
Thatch is a deep covering, several hundred millimetres of layered material laid to shed water by the sheer length of the path through it rather than by lapped joints over a sealed layer. There is no plane to flash to and no course to work into. A frame set into it interrupts the water path, and the material has to be dressed around an obstruction it was never designed to accommodate.
There is also the fire position. Thatch has particular requirements around separation, spark arrest and the treatment of anything penetrating it, and introducing a new penetration into a thatched roof is a serious matter rather than a detailing puzzle.
And on top of both, on a listed building the thatch is very often the most significant thing about the roof, so consent for an opening in it is unlikely even where somebody was willing to attempt one.
So the answer on thatch itself is no, and we say so at the enquiry stage rather than after a survey. What follows is what can be done instead, which is usually more than people expect.
Finding the non-thatched part
Very few of these houses are thatched throughout. Over centuries they have gained rear outshots, kitchen wings, wash houses, dairies, garden rooms and twentieth-century extensions, and almost all of those were covered in tile or slate rather than thatch.

Those sections are ordinary rooflight territory. They are usually at the back, usually at a lower level than the main range, usually screened from public view by the thatched roof itself, and usually of no great historic significance compared with the original building. Every one of those factors makes the planning conversation easier rather than harder.
The first thing a survey does here is map the roof properly: which parts are thatched, which are not, what each non-thatched part is covered with, and what the structure under each one is. It is common to find three or four different roof constructions on a single house, of three or four different dates.
The junction between thatch and tile
Where the two coverings meet, there is a detail, and its condition governs how close a rooflight can sensibly go.
Thatch is thick and tile is thin, so the junction is a step. Water shedding off the thatch arrives on the tiled section with some energy and in some volume, concentrated along that line. It is the hardest-working part of the whole roof, and it is where the two trades meet, which historically means it is where responsibility was least clear.
A rooflight placed close below that junction is sitting in the path of everything coming off the thatch. That is not impossible to detail, and it is a bad idea when there is anywhere else to put it. The practical rule is to keep well clear, and where the tiled section is small enough that clearance is not achievable, to say so.
The other consideration is that working near thatch means working carefully. Nobody walks on it, nothing is leant against it, and any hot work near it is out of the question.
Sun tunnels, where a rooflight will not go
Where a room under thatch needs daylight and there is no adjoining tiled section to use, the remaining option is worth taking seriously rather than dismissing.
A sun tunnel is a small dome feeding a reflective tube down through the roof space to a diffuser in the ceiling. Because the tube is narrow it passes between rafters without structural work, and because the roof opening is small it is far less conspicuous than a rooflight.
It still cannot go through thatch. What it can do is take light from a small tiled section, a dormer cheek or a rear slope some distance from the room, and deliver it to a ceiling that has no roof of its own to open. In an internal bathroom or a landing with no external wall, it is frequently the only option that exists.
The caveats are honest. It gives daylight rather than a view. A long tube with bends delivers considerably less than a short straight one, so the route matters more than the product. It has to be insulated and sealed where it passes through the insulated layer or it becomes a cold bridge with condensation inside it. And on a listed building it is still an alteration, so consent is still engaged.
The riverside cottages, and the ground they sit on
Sutton Courtenay sits on the Thames, and the older cottages sit low and close to it, with solid walls and no effective damp course in many cases.

The consequence for a rooflight is indirect and real. A house with damp in the walls runs at a higher humidity throughout, so the air reaching newly installed glass overhead is carrying more moisture and gives it up more readily. Condensation appears earlier in the season and more persistently than the same unit would produce in a dry house on higher ground.
Which argues for a warm-edge spacer without exception, an opening unit rather than a fixed one wherever the room allows, and a continuous vapour control layer sealed to the frame. It also argues for being clear about what is a roof problem and what is not, since the two get conflated and money gets spent in the wrong place.
Consent, and the density of it here
The village has a conservation area covering its historic core and a substantial number of listed buildings within it, many of them the thatched cottages along the older lanes. The authority is Vale of White Horse District Council rather than Oxford or South Oxfordshire.
On a listed building, consent is engaged for any alteration affecting its character, anywhere on it, including a rear slope nobody can see. Where a thatched cottage has a tiled rear addition, that addition is part of the listed building and consent applies to work on it.
Curtilage structures matter here too. A former wash house or stable behind a listed cottage, predating 1948, is generally caught by the listing even though it appears in no list entry by name. Converting one feels like a smaller undertaking than altering the house and it is not.
Outside the designated core, the later housing is ordinary work: concrete interlocking tile over trusses, a profile-specific flashing kit, most rear-slope work permitted development and notifiable under Building Regulations.
What gets accepted on the tiled sections
Where a unit goes into the non-thatched part of a designated building, the expectations are the familiar ones and they are reasonable.
Flush in the plane of the covering rather than proud of it, with the tile re-dressed around it. Dark finished. Modest in size and number. Positioned low on the slope, out of the principal views, and clear of the junction with the thatch.
The argument that tends to succeed is that the proposal affects a later addition of limited significance rather than the historic core of the building, and that it is invisible from anywhere public. Both of those are usually true here, and both are worth stating explicitly in a heritage statement rather than leaving an officer to notice them.
Old tile, and lifting it once
The tiled sections on these houses often carry old handmade clay tiles, which are brittle, irregular, and not replaceable with anything modern that looks right beside them.

Forming an opening means lifting them by hand, stacking them in order, and putting the sound ones back where they came from. A proportion will break regardless of care, and where they cannot be matched the sensible approach is to take replacements from a less visible part of the roof and put the modern ones there instead.
Double-lap coursing has to come back true across the head and both sides, with a flashing sized for the tile rather than adapted from a slate kit. This is slow hand work and it should be priced as such.
Living under thatch, and what daylight has to compete with
Thatched rooms are dark in a way that surprises people who have not lived in one, and understanding why explains what a rooflight in an adjoining section can and cannot fix.
The covering is deep, so the window reveals in the roof plane are deep too. Dormers in thatch have long tunnels of reveal above them, and each one pinches the light. The rooms are usually small with low ceilings, and the walls are thick, so what window openings exist are deeply set as well.
What that means for a rooflight in a neighbouring tiled section is that it is doing more work than the same unit would do elsewhere, because it is often the only unobstructed daylight in that part of the house. It also means the reveal treatment matters disproportionately: a splayed reveal, opening outward from the frame into the room, spreads light across the surrounding plaster instead of dropping it in a hard-edged pool, and in a dark cottage that difference is substantial.
Light-coloured finishes on the reveal and the ceiling around it do a similar job for the cost of the paint. In these rooms, every surface near the opening becomes a secondary light source.
Roof structure in an old timber-framed cottage
Many of the older houses here are timber framed, with the roof structure part of the frame rather than sitting on top of masonry.
That changes what can be cut. In a masonry house the rafters carry the covering and the walls carry everything, so trimming between rafters is a local operation. In a timber-framed building the roof members may be participating in the stability of the whole frame, and a principal rafter, a collar or a tie beam is doing work that is not obvious from below.
The practical rule is that nothing structural is cut without knowing what it does. Openings go between common rafters, in the bays the frame provides, and the position follows the frame rather than the room. That is a real constraint and it is usually workable, because these frames were built with generous bays.
It is also why the survey happens in the roof space and takes a while. On a building that has been altered for four hundred years, the only reliable way to know what is carrying what is to look.
What we can and cannot do here
New rooflights and replacements in the tiled and slated parts of these buildings, in the later housing, and in the converted outbuildings that are common behind the older cottages. Conservation-grade units where the designation calls for them.

What we do not do is fit into thatch, and we do not undertake thatching, roofing or re-covering of any kind. Where the honest answer is that the room cannot have a rooflight, that is what you will be told, and it will be told at the enquiry rather than after a survey visit.
How to describe your roof to us
The address, which settles the designation. Which parts of the roof are thatched and which are not, as best you can tell, and what the non-thatched parts are covered with. Which room you are trying to light, and whether it sits under the thatched range or under a later addition.
A couple of photographs from the garden showing the whole roof are worth more than a description here, because the shape of a part-thatched building is the thing that decides the answer.
Four steps, no surprises
Survey
We look at the roof, the covering and the slope before we say anything about price.
Specification
The right unit and glazing for that roof and that orientation, in plain terms.
Fixed quote
Written, itemised and firm. The number does not move once work starts.
Install
Opening formed, unit set and weathered, covering made good. Notification is ours.
Helpful reading on this
Costs, comparisons and the questions we are asked most.
Tell us about your roof
We start with the building, the covering and the slope. Then we tell you what will suit it, and what it will cost, as a fixed written number.
- Surveyed before it is priced
- 10-year workmanship guarantee
- Building Control notification handled
- New installations and replacements