» Without prejudice
The Landlady
I am the sort of person who likes to get on with things – no dilly-dallying or fannying about on the fence for me. Almost without realising it, I usually manage to end up in control of most situations – apart from those involving The Boyfriend, who is very much in possession of a mind of his own and will therefore not be controlled by me, or anyone else for that matter. But I digress. The current situation I seem to have ended up in control of, is the acquisition of the freehold of the flat in Hastings belonging to Katy and I.
Months ago, in the summer, I attended a meeting in Eastbourne with a couple of fellow lessees regarding this matter. Although I’d been idly thinking that we really ought to try and acquire the freehold, I was by no means the one who started the ball rolling and I was overjoyed that the reins were, for once being held by someone else. Of the eight lessees, only three of us made this initial meeting and I nearly didn’t as a result of almost getting knocked out by some awful fat girls, bellies swinging threateningly over their hipsters, having a fight in the very chavvy pub where I was trying to phone for a taxi from Hampden Park Station. I arrived at the meeting to discover that the two lessees present were bothperfectly nice, but very much part of the new school of property development, that is, both of them saw it as a ‘sideline’. They were terribly enthusiastic about property, whereas I would nowadays rather stick pins in my eyes than even think about property developing.
“I slave away on the computer formulating and launching pointless emails in the ether”
We chatted about the freehold for an hour or so, by which time it had somehow come about that I – as the most experienced participant – would be organising the whole damn thing. How did that happen? Then, months down the line and many emails, phone calls and pointless conversations later, we agreed that, rather than going down the valuation route, we would pay what the freeholder was asking, as we’d save no time and very little money going down the tribunal route. All was agreed – even the lessees who live in Australia managed to respond with alacrity – and, last week, I instructed our solicitor to issue an offer letter to the freeholder. Then, this morning I received an email from one of the lessees, who’d decided – after seven months – that we were perhaps paying too much and should get a formal valuation. Aaaaaarrrrgggghhhhh! What are these people on? They clearly sit around drinking Chenin Blanc, boring each-other senseless with the worth of their portfolio, while I slave away on the computer formulating and launching pointless and for the most part, ignored emails into the ether. Moreover, the longer we leave it, the more the freehold is likely to cost.
Interestingly, all of the lessees bar two are men and it is the male contingent which has been the slowest to respond to my ever more crapulous missives, citing the arrival of ‘new babies’ as their excuse. Lord alone knows what would happen if they actually had to give birth to them too. I’m sure the whole property industry would implode.
So, this morning, before topping up my rapidly depleting Karma at Yoga, I wearily phoned our solicitor to tell him to un-offer the offer he offered last week. Fortunately, the letter he had sent was ‘without prejudice’, meaning that the freeholder couldn’t rely on the contents. Let’s just hope he’s not having a baby any time soon!
