Holy Wedlock - Wednesday

S greets, me as I hobble lop-sided through the door, with news of a valuation later.
‘It’s a matrimonial though.’ She cautions with an apologetic shrug.
‘That’ll be a waste of time then.’ Predicts assistant manager T with a grimace.
‘No, she seemed really nice,’ counters S. ‘I think it’s quite amicable.’

I gently remind her it’s never that amicable, particularly once the lawyers get involved. The chances of a successful sale are probably halved when a split is factored in. They’ll bicker over fixtures and fittings, completion dates and most importantly the equity – if any – and the only one’s benefiting will be the legal leeches.

‘They all seem nice before the ring goes on.’ Adds tubby mortgage man M ruefully. ‘But once they own half of everything you’ve got, they turn into that one-legged bird.’
‘A flamingo?’ Asks trainee F to hoots of derision, as M explains curtly that he meant the ex Mrs McCartney.

‘Most fattening food known to man?’ Asks M, as I wonder if he’s thought this old gag through. S shakes her head. She’s still not as worldly wise as some, pleasingly.
‘Wedding cake.’ Delivers M triumphantly to groans all round and a couple of pot/kettle/black, accusing looks.

S shrugs off M’s jaundiced view and my big-hearted negotiator explains she’s gently coerced plenty of information from the potential seller – it’s gratifying when you can teach staff some of the tricks you’d like them to perform. S has information about the soon to be single, couples’ mortgage, how long they’ve lived in the house and - the tricky one to extract - how much they paid for it.

‘Plus they are both going to be there to see you.’ She concludes with a smug look towards M, who counters by asking if she has arranged financial services interviews – separate one’s – with the pair. She hasn’t and I’m secretly pleased, although I have a feeling the fat man might be needed later when they have to re-mortgage, as looking at what they paid, their relationship might last a little longer.

A few hours later I’m on their doorstep, shoes buffed, brief case full of comparable sale evidence that might not be to the owners’ liking. I ring the bell, fiddle one more time with my tie knot and paste on the most convincing smile I can muster. I’m clutching my business card, which since it included my e-mail seems to occasion a lot more abusive spam mail than before. Funny that.

Not many people are old enough to recall an ancient Steptoe and Son episode I remember from my childhood. The protagonists, a pair of rag and bone men, comprised a grouchy old lecherous father and his failed lothario, stay-at-home son. After falling out, the couple famously split their house down the middle with a shakily erected stud partition wall, completely cutting the living room in two – television included. The frosty atmosphere I’m greeted with immediately reminds me of the ancient comedy series – only without the laughs.

As I traipse around the sad little house I’m introduced to a couple of gaunt-faced children, one boy, one girl. I have to work hard to shake a King Solomon-like image of how they intend sawing up the kids, when they tot-up the spoils of this failed relationship. Thank goodness there’s two of them, I think dolefully.

Both the boy’s and the girl’s bedrooms are miniature Dixons outlets, with televisions, laptops, I-pods and Playstations, yet they still look miserable as sin. It’s a look I remember well. Granted I only had those Airfix soldiers and a set of building bricks, but I remember my father leaving like it was yesterday. He even promised to stay in touch…..

‘Oh no.’ The couple chorus together, showing more unity, I suspect, than they’ve done for a while. ‘We need much more than that.’ Sat on the couch, each staking out one end territorially, they are oblivious to their children eavesdropping just out of their eye line, clutching each other’s hand.
‘You’ll have to do much better than that.’ Urges the wife, as I detect maybe the husband isn’t quite so keen to swap the three bed semi for a studio flat.

Does anyone know if marriage guidance counsellors get paid commission?