Category: married life

Sale agreed, with an additional £1000. Yay!

Hels’s flat sale has fallen through. Again. F**king bastards.
We are at wits end.

EDIT: Before events conspired such that I wrote this entry, I was working on a piece about how Hels’s sale seemed to be going well, and that I had had a second viewing of my flat, had another second viewing imminent and had a third viewer on first viewing. The house we want(ed) to buy had still not been sold and things were, generally, looking pretty good and promising.
Now we are wondering what we are going to do. Without going in to detail, it seems that the sale of Hels’s flat is going to be problematic for the timebeing, for reasons entirely out of our control and through no fault of ours. We still need to raise some money fairly quickly, with the expense of the wedding looming very large indeed. So hopefully a purchaser for my flat will materialise very soon (and we can persuade them to buy windows from Dave).
Now we are looking at the possibility of me moving into Hels’s flat and working from there. It’s not very large, and to try and sell it whilst I’m working in it will be difficult to say the least. But there are several options available to us – we need a few days to review them all and think things over.
Meanwhile, I’ve just been and collected H from work. She wasn’t feeling very well before and, needless to say, this has drained her a lot. It’s drained me a lot too. So this afternoon will be spent trying to collect ourselves, and drinking several cups of tea.

OK, let’s bring you up to date on the current property status.
Firstly, if all goes well, it seems that Hels has sold her flat. She changed agent about ten days or so ago, which resulted in a flurry of new viewings and two offers in the space of 24 hours. The second was much better than the first, and we’re working towards a completion date in mid September.
My flat, on the other hand, continues to sit in the market doldrums. I’m not convinced that there is anything wrong with the flat, nor with the price – £134,950 makes this one of the cheapest properties currently for sale in Chichester. I think part of the problem is that my agent is just too "nice" and simply not aggressive enough. There is probably a very good reason why most estate agents are irritating social outcasts – that reason being that irritating social outcasts are the best people for that particular job.
So, as of today, my flat will now be in a joint agency situation – I’ve managed to negotiate a good wheeze where both agents are charging the same commission rate as I would have paid under the old sole agency agreement. The manager of the new agent came across to me as a greasy and irritating individual, rather too sure of his own abilities, and bound to annoy anyone who has to spend more than a few minutes in his company. These, I feel, are the ideal qualities for an estate agent.
I’ve kept the price the same for now, and we shall see how the new agent progresses. If there are no developments within the next fortnight, then I’ll review things again.
Meanwhile, Hels and I went back to look at a house that I viewed some time ago. It’s a spacious three bedroom mid-terrace property, with quite a big garden, a garage and great views. We discussed it over the weekend, and I phoned the agent yesterday to register an interest and to sound out what sort of offer would be acceptable. Unfortunately, it seems that another offer is pending that is higher than the maximum that we can currently bid, although that purchaser has had their own sale fall through. Our sums were based on an ultra-realistic appraisal of the value that my flat might realise, although if we exceed that then we might be able to get in on this property again by making an offer closer to the asking price.
It’s a shame really, as it is a rather lovely house that is in good enough condition to live in it without unndertaking major works, yet still offers scope for improvements that would add to its value. It also has room for me to work in peace and even space for (whisper it!) a child or two. Hels and I have a mantra that we shouldn’t become "emotionally attached" to a new home until we have the keys in our hands, but that’s much easier said than done.

Hels said I should write something here about this, although, to be honest, I’m not quite sure what to say…

On Saturday afternoon, having run a few errands and sorted out a few more wedding bits and pieces (invitations posted today), we sauntered down to Worthing for Sarah and Paul’s housewarming barbeque. We were a little bit early, so nipped into a seafront bar to kill a little bit of time and watch a squally shower lashing the shore. It was clear from the weather that we were in line for more of a "grilleque" than barbeque, and that proved to be the case once we arrived at Sarah and Paul’s spacious new home.

In spite of the inclement conditions, the party trundled along pleasantly enough, particularly as it gave me a chance to catch up with Gary, who I haven’t seen in ages, and also to meet the other usher for Sarah and Paul’s wedding (I’ve been practising my ushing ever since they asked if I would do that honour). However, what I hadn’t realised was that both Andrea and Kate would be there. It was good to see Kate again and to catch up on all the news – over the years, we have built up a good friendship, which some might say is what we should have stuck with all those years ago instead of trying to have a relationship. She and Hels got on well, which is without doubt a good thing.
The upshot of all this is that I stepped in to the living room at one point (having taken a "comfort break") to find Kate, Andrea and Hels standing next to each other and looking at me. That was the point that I decided it was time for us to leave!

The strange thing is that I really felt quite ambivalent about the whole situation. I don’t really view Kate as an ex any more – she’s a friend now. I don’t really have any time for Andrea at all, as regular readers of this site will know. And H stands head and shoulders above them both, both literally and figuratively.
As I said to H on the way home, the one thing that the evening did teach me is that it is true what they say – things do tend to work out for the best in the end. I can’t imagine how they could have worked out better than they have.