The Dreamers

I’m dropping the price next week. I suspect that’s been an issue all along, despite nearly everyone seeming to think it’s fair. That may or may not produce more viewers, only time will tell. There’s something slightly galling about the estate agent setting me up in this way, but I have to deal with what is. I do think that doing so will mean I’m moving into a new phase, so before I do I want to tidy up the tale of the dreamers. Those people who so loved my house they had a survey done, at great expense, by someone who wasn’t even capable of assessing a rabbit hutch. Because it got far more ridiculous before I twigged they weren’t actually serious, just dreaming.

The estate agent described them as dreamers. I can see what she meant. Moving to Cornwall is aspirational for many people. They come here for holidays, and imagine the wonders of living here, and how much they’d like to make it happen. I’m pretty sure at least a couple of the viewers I’ve had were on holiday down here, and fancied looking at what they could, but never would, buy. Others will eventually make it a reality, as long as the house they find looks like something out of Poldark, and has none of the realities of life in the country.

These people had promised me they were preparing their house to go on the market, and that it would happen by the end of June by the very latest. While I have never counted on them, their apparent commitment meant I believed, incorrectly, that they were serious, and did intend to do whatever they could to buy the house. The end of June came and went, so I sent them an email asking how they were getting on. Quite quickly I got a message from him, saying he would phone me later, which he did.

I’m not sure whether the story he told me was true or a complete fabrication. He said that he’d been to see his upset son one evening, had a drink, driven home and crashed into the back of someone else, done £8,000 worth of damage, and been done for drunk driving. Apparently he’d already been to court and been banned for 18 months, which could be reduced by 5 months if he did an awareness course, which wouldn’t finish until Christmas. So they wouldn’t be putting the house on the market until then. They were still interested, he claimed, though if true, this had clearly happened some time before, and they hadn’t bothered to let me know.

If true, it’s quite serious, because the wife is disabled and counts on him to be able to move about. She would be stuck at home for the duration. He of course could go out. Though I have serious doubts, and it seems quite likely it’s complete bullshit. Further conversations revealed that.

He’d said that they could cope out here without transport, which is nonsense really, so I decided to write an email asking for some real clarity, and saying that while I hadn’t kept the house for them, I was going to have to be more serious about finding a proceedable buyer. I also asked that if they’d done any sympathetic magic to bind it to them they let that go. I know some of you will think that’s absurd, but whether or no, that’s what she does, and the other day, well after this conversation, I found a poorly buried rather clean geode  in the flower bed just outside the back door. Intent is a powerful thing. It has an impact on the minds of those involved, which in this case includes me. Whether I like to admit it or not they’d drawn me into their fantasy, and I’d behaved for months as if it were true.

I got a reply which revealed they were never really serious. They won’t have realised that, but much of what was said was full of contradictions and transparent lies. I don’t think they intended any harm. Quite the reverse. I believe they were innocently enthused and that dreaming their dream made it seem somehow true. They are apparently miles off being ready to put their house on the market, and he asked me if I could take some photos from the bedroom window for the wife for ‘psychic purposes’. It’s laughable really, when I look at it from beyond the spell I’d allowed myself to be put under. I refused the request, saying I wouldn’t be sending anything else until they were in a position to proceed. They told me they weren’t looking at other houses, as if that would convince me they were still serious. Yet they’d strung me along for months, leading me to believe they fully intended to make it a practical reality. I don’t expect to hear from them again. I hope I don’t. because I wouldn’t trust them with the rickety unpredictable unreliable process of going through a sale anyway.

Part of me thinks I should feel like a fool to have been taken in by their nonsense. But I just feel a bit sad people don’t see the consequences of their actions. And so on I go….



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