The cottage in Surrey has fallen through, for the time being at least. Maybe I am going to be a country girl again at some point, but for now it’s looking like I will have to remain a while longer in Bal-ham, gazing longingly towards the south.
The owners of the cottage in Ripley pulled out, after I failed to sell my flat quickly enough. To be fair, I had promised I would be under offer within days, because that is how it has always been before.
I have had the place on the market twice in the past two years, and both times it was snapped up in a matter of hours at the asking price. On those occasions, I was then not able to negotiate the right price on the property I was trying to buy. So I decided this time to get an offer accepted first, then put my flat on the market.
Sod’s law kicked in, of course, so that no sooner was my offer accepted on the idyllic cottage in the country than the referendum campaign got going and my sale was scuppered by market uncertainty.
I have had lots of viewings, but they have all been so outrageously picky that I can only conclude they are fishing for a bargain. Every single one has mooched round disparagingly before declaring: ‘It needs a total refurb.’
When the agent first told me this, I pointed out that Stefano the Albanian had painted and decorated the flat to within an inch of its life last year, or maybe it was the year before, but in any case it still looks pristine. It was also rewired and soundproofed, with new wardrobes fitted in both bedrooms.
Just before I put it on the market, I had Tony the plumber install a new bathroom with rainfall shower.
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