No, I’m not talking about the Brexit apocalypse or
Donald Trump with his itchy finger on the button. That’s for another day. I
mean, is the end nigh for our house
hunting? We seem to have found our
property, and as I write, the estate agent, solicitors and conveyancers are
battling through the paperwork to ensure the deal is water tight. For us it has
reduced the tension in our relationship (!), and we can look forward to moving
in next month (fingers crossed).
There’s some argument over who first found it. I said it was me because I saved it on RightMove, Linda says it was her. In truth, it was probably both of us, so that says something. It was a case of: ‘We might as well go and have a look as it’s only down the road.’
Why the lack of enthusiasm? Well, for months (yes – it’s been months!),
when Linda has shoved her iPad under my nose, I’ve reacted with: ‘It’s too near
the road. There’s not room for the caravan. We need to be detached so AC/DC
don’t upset the neighbours. It needs too much work,’ and, ‘not
another boring bungalow! I’m not living in a bungalow!’ Inevitably a row
would follow, with allegations that I’m ‘not being open-minded’, that ‘we’ll
never find somewhere to live, and winter is
coming!’ We all know what that means...
Even though we enjoy living in the caravan, I don’t think we would want to stay in it forever. I suspect that often it wasn’t just me who was unimpressed, but it was me who was blamed, and I became the whipping boy. Ouch! ‘What do you think of this?’ would be accompanied with an icy stare, and a look which said, I dare you to say you don’t like it. But I did dare, and the results turned the air blue. But all that changed when we went to see the bungalow, ‘because we had nothing better to do that day’.
It has to be said that we were impressed by the pictures on RightMove.
The property had been renovated to a high standard, including extensive replastering,
new high-end kitchen with built in appliances, bathroom, French windows,
central heating system, double glazing, blinds, carpets and oak floor. The
whole interior had been redecorated, front and back gardens landscaped… In
short you could just move in and unpack your things.
At the drive-by our apathy was dispelled. The bungalow was impressive
with its manicured gardens and modern dark grey window frames, with matching
garage door. Set on a rise, it was one of around twenty bungalows built in the
late 1980s, in a village of 500 inhabitants. Everyone seemed to keep their
gardens neat, there were no cars parked on the road, and, as far as we could
see, only one car on each drive, and apart from tractors working in nearby
fields, it was deathly quiet.
It had all the atmosphere of Stepford without the Wives. The residents
weren’t middle aged men shacked up with Barbie doll androids, but retired
couples some years older than us.
 |
| There are no Stepford Wives in the village... |
After a couple of days we returned for the full viewing experience. It
was weird considering my aversion towards bungalows, but as soon as we stepped
over the threshold, we were under a spell.
There was a good feeling, and it felt like home.
Three bedrooms, a generous lounge and a kitchen dining room was just the
ticket, and outside a large garage for storage. The back garden with new patio,
although not huge, was more than adequate, and not overlooked. The effect was
wall to wall blue sky enriched with fluffy white clouds.
We had a second viewing where we met the owner. He had renovated it, he
explained, because he had been planning to move in with his wife, and she
wanted the best. They lived at his son’s house in an annex, and the property
was going on the market. Then the move was cancelled so the bungalow went up
for sale.
We decided to put in an offer. It was at the top end so we felt safe
putting in a lower offer, especially as we were cash buyers. The estate agent
shook her head. ‘They won’t even consider that. They had a very good offer when it had been on the market for just a couple of
days. It was rejected because they hadn’t yet sold their property, but it has set
the bar.’
We upped our offer. Liz said she would put it to the vendors, but warned
us that as it had only been for sale a couple of weeks, and there was a lot of
interest, the sellers might prefer to hang on.
We went and had an ice-cream, and half an hour later the phone rang. Liz
wanted to see us. We walked back to the office. Apparently, before she could
put our revised offer to them, the seller had called Liz to say that the
original couple had been in touch, having ‘got their finances in order’, and they
had accepted the offer, which was substantially higher than ours.
So it was back to the drawing board. We were disappointed, but it was a
learning experience. Maybe we should have put in a higher figure to begin with,
but we were only following the advice from the Internet.
I had a strong feeling the deal would fall through within a few days. I
was wrong, but not far wrong. A week later at 10am we were in the awning
sipping coffee when the phone rang. It was Liz. The buyers had pulled out, she said,
because they’d decided ‘it was too far to come and live’. We wondered if there
was more to it, and said we’d call in later.
Liz said our revised offer wasn’t good enough, but we’d already decided
on something more realistic. She put that to them. They came back with a price
they would accept, and we agreed. This included all the internal fitments and
fittings, and after a bit of argy bargy, five hundred pounds worth of LPG
(there’s no mains gas in the village).
So that’s where we’re at. It wasn’t just the bungalow that sold it to
us. We love the area. We felt an instant empathy with the surrounding
countryside. There are footpaths on our doorstep in all directions, some that
go over into north Shropshire.
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| We'll only be a few minutes from Audlem... |
We might not be able to walk to the pub (an unticked box), and the
caravan will have to be put into storage, but there’s three pubs in
Audlem, less than five minutes drive
away – or ten minutes by bike! Plus a doctors’ surgery, Indian restaurant,
butchers’, Fish ‘n’ Chip shop, small Co-op, cafes, bike shop, and village hall
– extended last year with lottery money.
It’s a thriving community. For the big supermarkets - Nantwich and
Market Drayton are just a few miles away.
We’ve had a few hiccups along the way, so wish us good luck as we head
towards completion…
Read my 5 Star novel: Stench of
Evil - a paranormal thriller https://goo.gl/VQOVuS
and the sequel: The Devil in
Them https://goo.gl/aS1cjZ
