We were at the Cropredy music festival when negotiations were coming to a head, camped in a field in Oxfordshire, with hardly any phone signal, trying desperately to get estate agents, conveyancers and banks to get their finger out and just do their job. You know what I mean. We've all been there, and likely we'll be there again.
The instigator of all this mayhem and stress was Mr Green, the vendor. He'd forked out a lot of money when he'd gutted the property some months earlier, and done it up to a high specification. At that point he thought he and his wife were moving in. They were living in an annex in their son's garden, and Mr Green junior had informed his dad that the property was going on the market - so they'd better find somewhere else to live. When the alterations were almost complete, Mr Green learnt from his son that the move was cancelled. Hence the property was put up for sale.
About a week before we hitched up to join friends at Cropredy, we'd been summoned to the estate agents in Nantwich because Mr Green had 'gone off on one'. Liz looked fed-up, her right ear still ringing from the call. "He's threatening to pull out and put the property back on the market," she said, exasperation written all over her face. "He said you promised him a quick sale, and it's not moving fast enough."
We looked at one another then at Liz. "We said we were cash buyers so it would be a quick sale. But we don't have control over his solicitor, or over Mr Green who has dragged his feet on more than one occasion when providing paperwork!" She didn't contradict me, then her boss, who knew Mr Green, said: "I believe he's under pressure from his daughter-in-law. She's winding him up over the money he's shelled out!"
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| Celebratory drink at Cropredy! |
After that things seemed to get moving, then in the field at Cropredy we discovered that our very efficient conveyancer had gone on holiday, and our case was put into the hands of anyone in the office who had the time to spare... Between the Beach Boys, Fairport Convention and Fish from Marillion we were tooing and frowing from the caravan to the arena. Finally we wrote a damning email to the top dogs at the company, and suddenly we had a dedicated conveyancer again who got things rolling. Much to our relief (and our friends), before the festival was over, we had exchanged contracts!
We moved in about two weeks later. For some time I'd been describing the property to people, how it was immaculately decorated, with re-plastered walls, new carpets, kitchen and bathroom, central heating, landscaped gardens... "We can just move in with our things," I'd boasted, "and begin living." How wrong I was!
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| Wallpapering to break up the grey walls |
Since being handed the keys, we've never stopped; visiting showrooms, getting quotes for blinds, bedroom and dining room furniture, sofas, book cases. We've still not got all the bedroom furniture, and clothes are hanging from temporary rails or in plastic covers on the floor. Cupboards are stuffed with clothing where our new dinner service (when we get it!) should be stored. The garage is filled with things including furniture we had in storage that will now be sold, as they don't go with the décor of the new property.
The rooms are decorated in modern grey - grey carpets, grey flooring and grey walls. It looks very smart, but we've put patterned wallpaper on a couple of walls to break it up. We've got the blinds and dining area sorted, with solid oak, and we've ordered furniture for the guest bedroom. More will follow no doubt. All I can say is thank goodness we didn't have to decorate or fit a new kitchen and bathroom!
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| There was still plenty to do! |
A few days ago a 'bedroom surveyor' (that's an actual job title!) arrived at 2.15pm to measure our bedroom for fitted furniture. He left at 6.45 - four hours later! Another fifteen minutes and he would have been invited to dinner. As he packed up his laptop he was sniffing in the fumes from the chilli bubbling on the hob, and making complimentary noises. The week before, a salesman from the same company spent two hours measuring the same room. No wonder we're paying an extortionate price!
So what have we learnt? All those boxes you tick, you're lucky if half survive the rigours of house-hunting! We were keen on barn conversions, and ended up putting the caravan in storage. But we got what we wanted - even though we didn't realise this was it. So after the disappointments, the arguments and the stress - we got there in the end!
I'm looking forward to the day when I get out of bed and have no flatpack furniture to build and no showrooms to visit. A day when I think, What am I going to do - I'm bored...
Read my 5 Star novel: Stench of
Evil - a paranormal thriller https://goo.gl/VQOVuS
and the sequel: The Devil in
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