The Infernal Recovery

Written on 21st May 2014.

"On the wicked he will rain fiery coals and sulfur; a scorching wind will be their lot."

"At one point midway on our path in life, I came around and found myself now searching through a dark wood, the right way blurred and lost. How hard it is to say what that wood was, a wilderness, savage, brute, harsh and wild. Only to think of it renews my fear!"

It's 16:00. I'm sitting in Roy's (of Wroxham) Cafe, wondering when the stooped older-gentleman at the counter might finally complete his tortuous order, so that I can avail myself of a second latte. For the last hour I've alternated between dipping into, 'Hard Times,'- much in keeping with one's recent moods- or else scribbling demented notes into the iPad. The regular announcements regarding, "spectac-lear bargains," in the shoe department, have ceased to amuse me. Eye on the clock, there's a reasonable chance the father-in-law will be out of the house from around 16:30- I'll give it 'till 17:00, just to be certain!

On the surface the signs are probably along the lines of, "Do not approach!" Not entirely an accurate reflection of my state of mind, but the halo of empty seats surrounding my person suits my purposes, so let's not yet do anything to undermine these perceptions.

Many thanks to Dave McLear

In truth I'm almost singing inside- though not yet smiling, but the ice is slowly beginning to thaw- because a number of things seem set to change, hopefully entirely for the better. Three months and four days in to our unplanned-for-homelessness and finally a tiny chink of light has levered itself in between the storm clouds. The clouds, incidentally, are a cliched allegory for the deadening gloom that has accumulated about our persons, over the aforementioned three-and-a-bit months. To boot, our sleepy solicitor has today e-mailed that there are completion documents to be signed.

When we found ourselves suddenly and unexpectedly in need of a floor upon which to spend a 'couple of weeks' neither of us could have anticipated the precise hue or the intensity of the greyness that was about to ensue. As an occasional artist I remain at a loss as to what such a hue might be termed, certainly drawing more from the depths of a bleeding soul than that of the master's pallet. 

So... 't was upon the 3rd February, in the year of our Lord 2014, some three-and-a-bit months past, that we were readying ourselves for a move to a Harford House, in the fine city of Norwich. Non-specific administrative matters had dictated that we would need to rent what-was-to-become our apartment, for a short while, prior to the purchase of the same. 

"A nominal fee," the developer had said. "After all you'll be buying the place," the man had gone on to reason. He'd also smiled, "Call me Sid." With hindsight and some fuller reflection, the most significant thing said had almost been obscured beneath oh-so-much cheery-sales-pitch small talk; "I'm a business man," he'd also casually enlightened.

The home move was booked, the sale of our previous home legally committed to, nowhere else to go! Or so this man had obviously thought. The precise (and curiously elusive) terms of the rental agreement finally winged their way through the aether. Oops! My God, we'd been so naive. So very, very stupid! Wiggle room, at this juncture, had seemed a highly unlikely eventuality.

Many thanks also, to Jason Merrick

Dante's Fourth Circle of Hell (Greed).

The precise terms of the agreement- never actually spoken- pinged into the inbox. To clarify then, the "nominal fee" was as follows:

* £200 for the first week (services included)- hardly 'nominal' we mused.

* £400 for the second week. Continuing to double with each successive week.

* In addition to this we were expected to pay the cost of 'setting up' this dubious contract, £450 plus VAT, so another £540.

* And then there was the tiny matter of a non-refundable deposit of £2,000, just to ensure our goodwill and commitment to buy.

* So a 'highly nominal' £3,540 for the first four weeks. 

* And an additional £2,000, to ensure that Sid was not be found out of pocket, should we ever get to the point where our fast-depleting funds could no longer afford the planned move. 

* A special thanks must go out to Bruce Faulkner of Faulkner and Rogers Solicitors, for drawing up this 'nominal' agreement.

Dear ********

I have taken my clients further instructions re your client taking occupation and am instructed that they are prepared to allow your client to do so on the following basis:-

1. Your clients pay my costs of preparing the agreement - Which should be no more than £450 plus VAT.

2. Your clients pay a £2000 deposit repayable on completion but otherwise non-refundable.

3. Your clients pay a licence fee of £200 in the first week, doubling each week until completion or vacation if your clients do not proceed payable weekly in advance (to ensure completion as quickly as possible).

4. Water charges included in licence fee.

5. Electricity and gas included until the meter to 6 Harford House is installed and connected.

I should be able to prepare the document for completion tomorrow and look forward to hearing from you once you are able to take instructions.

With best wishes

Bruce ********

Director

Unanticipated, we wiggled. The in-laws had a camper van. I dutifully phoned Sid to convey our reluctance to accept his 'nominal' offer. "A means to ensure that the solicitors did not drag their feet," Sid was anxious to 'clarify.' "To ensure that 'both' parties are fully protected," he enlightened. I duly ran through the maths for him. The man even had the presence of mind to pretend surprise at the voluminous four week total. 

The business man on the back foot- not a pleasant spectacle- was witnessed to instantly retract, clearly desperate not to lose sight of our money. A hastily rehashed deal of £200 a week, "with all services thrown in"- Hell, the man hadn't even yet organised the separate metering of the apartment- was politely declined. And I honestly was polite! The phone call was thus terminated. Time for the business man to sweat, I'd considered. Even supposedly desperate not to lose his buyers, the evident greed had shone through; 'nominal,' even at this late juncture, continued to mean entirely different things to different parties.

The following day, or possibly the one after that, I sat down and attempted to convey a disappointment that had, in reality, already morphed into blessed relief. My e-mail, though extensive, omitted to state the obvious, that we would be pulling out of the deal. We had reasoned that such a leopard would be unlikely to be changing its spots.

Business-like to the death, the wife of Sid- one 'delightful' trouser-wearing Linda- took time out of her busy day to convey the couple's disappointment, feigned dismay, that such a 'reasonable' deal should have caused us "undue concern." The 'benign' Linda e-mailed that this was not a "hard-nosed business man's deal." 

Upon reading this response correspondence was terminated; it seemed the best of all the available options. Abuse at least had been circumnavigated.

Hello ******,

Unfortunately Sid is tied-up most of the today but he has asked me to reply to your email, as you can imagine we are both very disappointed to read your comments.

We are not developers, or seasoned builders, we are just a family trying to complete a project that we believe will provide 6 desirable apartments, for 6 happy purchasers.

The rental licence was drawn-up primarily to ensure the solicitors did not drag their feet regarding the completion of the sale, not to cause you or ***** any undue stress. We accept the licence terms may not have been ideal but under the circumstances, and at such short notice, we felt,  at the time it was an acceptable solution to a short term problem, and if I may say so, not a solution any hard nosed developer would have offered you.

With regards to the possibility that we might be trying to dissuade you from buying No 6... Nothing is farther from the truth, we have done all that you have asked, fitted fans in the bathrooms, extra sockets in the bedroom, lights in the lounge, installing the washing machine and tumble dryer of your choice, and Sky TV was installed today. What gain would there be for us?

We have not accepted any other offers on flat 6, we have not put the property back on the market, as far as we are concerned you have always been the only buyers. If you are prepared to reconsider,  we can discuss alternative licence terms, or forget the licence all together.

We all make mistakes and it seems such a shame that you will be missing out on the apartment you want and we will have to start the search for a new buyer again. Probably not something either of us really want.

If we can be of any further assistance please let us know.

Kind regards

Linda *******

One week later we learned that Sid had thus far omitted to obtain Building Regulations Approval, nor had he sought to obtain a Building Regulations Approval Certificate. What, no desire to hasten the exchange date? One was led to wonder when the gentlemen of Messrs Faulkner and Rogers, or perhaps Sid himself, might ever have brought this omission to anyone's attention. Currently (21st May) said property remains unsold, despite the misdirected 'Premium Property' sticker, as tacked on by Rightmove. Maybe an absence of relevant documentation continues to play its part, hopefully a far more astute home-buyers' approach is being observed by other home-seekers.

Agents AbbotFox, also reluctant to let the business slip through their talons, were quick to assure us that Sid was,"a lovely man." My God, he smiled often, and AbbotFox had dealt with him on several previous occasions. We had just obviously, "misunderstood," this, "charming character," they were quick to insist. "No, we don't wish to see the e-mailed contract," the team clarified. Thus the evidence of fossils was conveniently re-buried. "Any chance that the deal could be reignited?" AbbotFox pleaded. We thought perhaps not. Meanwhile, in the background, other gushing misrepresentations and falsehoods continued to blossom forth with apparent gay abandon. 

Lest the reader should think AbbottFox unworthy- which, of course they are- I can assure him/her that similar dishonesty/evasiveness was heard to abound in the vast majority of other Estate Agents' offices visited. The 'economic recovery' unfortunately tends to fuel such, to propagate especially the morally-bankrupt types in this field, cite the current practises of vast numbers of current leasing agencies. We could really do with a modern day Charles Dickens, who might perfectly capture the Victorian political climate in which we currently find ourselves.

Dante's Eighth Circle of Hell (Fraud).

Within a couple of weeks we had 'secured' a far more suitable property. Alas, en route, the almost criminally-inclined actions of the replacement Estate Agent (Abbotts) had caused us to effectively rebid for the same property three times. Special thanks, this time, must go out to one Richard, humorously described as a, 'Sales Negotiator.' Perhaps something approximating to the opposite of a 'Hostage Negotiator.' Where was Jesus, to upset those business stalls in the temple, born-again Christians might have been thinking. Richard 'assurred' us that indeed this had absolutely not been the case, with slippery words like, "I don't know what you heard, but..." We'd heard what you actually said, Richard, because we were listening. Obviously Sales Negotiator means something far less savoury than it really should, in these 'heady' times of 'resplendent' 'economic recovery.'

One other storm-battered home-seeking couple that we encountered, upon the very day of their hoped for exchange, discovered that their exchange papers had been amended with a revised contract for an additional ten grand. History does not recall whether the aforementioned Sales Negotiator was involved in this aborted transaction. The dawning 'economic recovery' rolled on, sweeping aside the minor and far less important deities of 'Honesty' and 'Integrity.'

Dante's Tenth Circle of Hell (Bureaucracy).

We dared to think that we were almost there; the misguided hopes of the single-home buyers had again been sorely misplaced. Ranged still before us were the fortified hurdles of solicitors and the leasehold contract company, The Residential Management Group. Between the two sets of solicitors and RGM the quest for an 'agreed' exchange date conspired to tack a further two and a half months onto the unwieldy process of acquiring our new home. Even in the death throes of these proceedings Capron and Helliwell were contriving to keep us entirely in the dark, as yet another snail post communication was leisurely batted back and forth between the (mis)appointed sets of solicitors. By this time one 'rogue' concerned individual at RGM had finally broken ranks and expressed his, "absolute dismay," at the woeful ineptness of his own employer. Alas, the mighty dinosaur had accidentally trampled upon another client, in its urgency to feast further at the troughs of 'economic recovery,' 

And, finally, thanks to Nomadic Lass

* Added on Wednesday 21st May.

It will take a while for us to begin to fully appreciate the benefits of again having our own place. I still awake, expecting to hear the father-in-law a huffing along an adjacent corridor. Or expecting to hear his pompous tones echoing, unchallenged, throughout the house.

In search of some form of sanctuary, I'd walked getting on for 400 miles, worn out and parted company with one pair of walking boots, and cycled closing in on a thousand. Best not to ponder too hard on the amount of money spent on coffee...

With hindsight, I'd like to think that I could dutifully advise others to avoid the estate agents of Abbotts or AbbotFox, that I might suggest a suitably more focused or reliable firm of Solicitors than that of Capron and Helliwell or Abbots Countrywide. If only 't were the case. In mock defence of RGM, they did, in time for the bill, contrive to insert their own inflated charges of £250, for doing bugger all (and not very well). The weight of limpets had the docked ship listing severely towards port (conceivably red wine).

Cash buyers purchase vacant property- no chain- in just three-and-a-half months! What could we possibly praise here?

Sadly, Britain in the 'economic recovery' appears more to want to celebrate these sharp practises or this questionable accountability, rather than to rectify such malpractice and ineptness. The consequent and numerous casualties will undoubtedly not be featuring in the self-congratulatory rhetoric of Messrs Osborne or Cameron. I have seen very little to suggest that the competitors might be any less self-interestedly driven. More deregulation needed, Mr Cameron? What do we think?

I can however strongly advise the avoidance of a particular developer, by the name of Sid; a "business man" he of Sid and Linda repute. 

"Don't hope you'll ever see the skies again!"