Love And Marriage - Wednesday

‘This could be poison.’ I caution towards trainee F as we pull up outside four pairs of tightly drawn semi-detached homes. The potential for neighbourly feuds made even greater than the proximity, by the shortsighted provision of twin shared drives.

‘They fall out over the parking arrangements don’t they?’ Queries F with a little more confidence than usual. He seems to have finally retained a piece of relevant information other than his own name.
‘They do,’ I confirm with a Roger Moore-like raised eyebrow. ‘You remembered that, well done.’

Briefly I’m impressed, thinking perhaps my relentless drumming-in of information might be bearing fruit and the buffoon is actually beginning to function independently from my benevolent-employment life-support system. Visions of cutting the umbilical cord and watching him grow into a fully functioning agent flash before me.

‘You probably remember number 23 London road from last year don’t you?’ I ask, and the blank look drops faster than lettings lady B’s knickers in a nightclub cloakroom.
‘Uh no, not really.’ Replies F, as I apply the handbrake and turn to look at his creased features. ‘It’s just that me and mum used to live in a house like these, and she was always arguing with next door when they parked their caravan across the back of her car.’

‘I didn’t know you lived around here.’ I say, gathering up brief case and camera.
‘Not here, similar.’ Replies F, a wistful look replacing the vapid one as he continues. ‘We lived in quite a few places really. Never stayed for long.’
I’m tempted to ask, if he has so much personal experience of regular property transactions, why he’s failed to grasp much about the business thus far, but he’s not alone in that. It doesn’t seem to stop asinine television presenters with no hands-on knowledge of the business, presenting endless property porn shows on satellite telly.

‘Anyway,’ I continue as we walk up the shared drive and I tap my feet on the crumbling concrete base. ‘There ought to be restrictive covenants in the deeds dictating the access arrangements, for this sort of thing.’
‘Covenants?’ Questions F haltingly as my heart sinks to subterranean levels and I wonder if we have a Sydney office I could send F to, as he seems intent on tunnelling.
‘Nothing to do with witches, or Harry Potter.’ I tell him curtly, as I ring the bell and prepare to present my business card.

The valuation is a pending matrimonial so I know at best it will be a long-haul before we get any business from the appointment. Chances are we’re just being used by one of the parties to get a figure for protracted negotiations as to who stays in the house. F isn’t alone in having a history of fractured childhood homes and multiple moves. There’s a well-supported theory that still chills me on nights lying awake, that you are fated by genetics and conditioning, to repeat the mistakes of your parents.

‘Don’t think you are putting your for sale board up anytime soon.’ Growls a sour-faced woman in her fifties, sat alongside her daughter as a convincing minder. The soon to be single-mum sits mutely clutching a twelve month old baby, as her mother continues undaunted.

‘We just want a figure in writing so that bastard can’t get force her out of the house.’ Snarls the mother-in-law from hell, as I begin to see why the marriage has foundered. It’s probably her caravan that blocks the shared drive most nights. Usually one party wants an artificially high estimate and one a correspondingly low one, depending on their lawyer’s opening gambit. Either way it’s unfailingly dispiriting.

‘I told her he was no good from the start.’ Rails the mother, as the daughter looks teary-eyed at me, while I explain I can only give an impartial suggestion on price, one that is not suitable for court purposes.
‘None of the others wanted a fee.’ Snipes the family spokeswoman as I explain she needs a formal valuation from a surveyor, and she confirms I’m not the only agent listening to a diatribe that would make the counsellor at Relate want to retrain.

Another alternative career off the list then.