Faerie Son: Facing Up To The Fact

Several years back we made the flawed decision to move to Aylsham. It was far more of a locational flaw, than specifically a town-based flaw, but the short term experience of living there did little to warm us to the place.

Almost immediately upon moving in to our new house (circumstances swiftly decreed that it was never to become a home) the builder buggered off, and so our new-building guarantee was effectively torn up overnight. Anyone who, at any point, has had their own home's welfare 'covered' by NHBC will no doubt concur; verging, as NHBC are wont to do, upon the utterly useless! It's a governmental insurance package, for Heaven's sake! This 'transference' of 'responsibilities' was deemed perfectly acceptable by some faceless political minion. The builder had done this before, he'll probably do it again. Some other faceless political minion will undoubtedly be able continue to 'endorse' the builder's right so to do. Our rights to anything were immediately deemed expendable!

Absolutely perfect, Lewis Martin

After moving in, the adjacent land was bulldozed for so-called 'development.' The planned extension to the doctor's surgery, that the land search had highlighted, was immediately abandoned, thus rendering our paid-for land search redundant. Probably the surgery extension was mere subterfuge, in order to hasten along the sale of (what was to become) our house. Some faceless political minion had deemed this to be acceptable practice. Our house, along with five others in the same 'development,' substantially depreciated in value, almost overnight. Broadland District Council were keen to proceed with more monetary business. Our rights to anything were again quickly deemed expendable. Another faceless political minion!

The adjacent new homes were to be sold, described as 'starter homes.' This convenient label served to hurry along the planning process. Four homes were erected, where perhaps even two might have been a tad restrictive. All four were instead sold as investment purchases. This was deemed fine by some faceless political minion. Nobody appeared to have any rights to object; 'starter homes,' was merely another subterfuge. Any first time buyers would have to lump it, some faceless political minion had decreed.

Prior to the building of these adjacent rabbit hutches we were required to sign a 'party wall agreement,' as foundations for the hutches were to be excavated within a stipulated distance of our house. It transpired that this agreement was far more to protect the builder from unscrupulous claims by us, than to safeguard against any damage to our foundations. When our fences were duly damaged by the builders we soon discovered the actual worth of this agreement. Yet another faceless political minion had decreed that this was to be nil.

Upon the eventual completion of the rabbit homes we took down the damaged fences, thus enabling maintenance access to the adjacent walls of the new-build hutches. Consequently a twenty-five centimetre thick strip of 'dead' land- a place of discarded and forgotten building materials, clumps of wayward concrete and broken bricks- was utilised to the optimum. Thus we had improved the area for both dwellings. A faceless political minion, from Broadland District Council, duly visited the site and signed the requisite papers, deeming the build satisfactorily complete, and hastening the flow of resultant monies.

And again, Kevin Dooley

A couple of years later we moved away to Norwich, happy to have left this sorry history of political subversion behind us.

More recently, we have learned that the oft 'absentee' landlord of said hutches has pretended to have just noted the absence of the damaged fence. He is no longer grateful that the maintenance of his boxes is now possible. He is no longer grateful that the no-man's land detritus strip has been enhanced. Instead, he is looking to cash in upon the sale of this dead land that was inaccessible and unusable. Some faceless solicitor has jumped on board. Another faceless political minion at the Land Registry Department is preparing to move one tiny line on one tiny map, but mainly also to cash in.

The new owner of our old house is appalled at the landlord's behaviour, the moral bankruptcy of both him and his solicitor. All of the moral arguments are neatly aligned, upon her side. Yet faceless political minions have decreed that she will still have to pay. She is thus eager that we dip into our pockets, on her behalf. But our ties with Aylsham are thankfully well and truly severed.