‘She wanted to be in a home and she’s in one. Now it’s up to me to sell this place to make enough money to pay for it!’
‘Well, you’d better get on with it, then.’ Hattie was boiling with rage.
‘How did you get in? I had the locks changed.’
‘I noticed. But this house isn’t very secure, as you must have realised.’
‘I can make it secure.’ He glared at her as if this was a threat. ‘Anyway,’ he went on. ‘I thought you wanted to buy this house.’
This gave Hattie pause. Surely Clive wasn’t going to be helpful? ‘In an ideal world, I would, yes.’
‘I’ll sell it to you. But it needs to be fast. I can give you till the day after the bank holiday, otherwise it’ll go on the market.’
Hattie studied him. Surely there’d be a catch. ‘What price are you hoping to achieve?’
He told her. It was at least twenty thousand less than its market value, even in its current condition. Her heart rate increased. Was her dream home suddenly within reach?
‘OK,’ she said calmly. ‘I’ll undertake to have my mortgage in place by then.’
‘You seem very certain.’
Hattie shrugged. ‘I am in the business. I have contacts.’
The following morning she started early. She had a lot to do. She needed to chase up some paperwork for Mrs Conway, her lovely client with champagne tastes on beer money, she needed to show another client round another house that she knew wasn’t going to be the one and she needed to see her friend who arranged mortgages. The last one was for her.
By the time she landed at her friend’s place she felt exhausted. It wasn’t the running around after people and searching for rural properties down country lanes, it was the anxiety rumbling in the back of her mind. Could she really buy Mary’s house?
‘Coffee or tea?’ asked Susie, seeing Hattie collapse in the chair opposite her. ‘Or just water?’
‘Water and then tea, please.’
Susie also produced biscuits. ‘Now,’ she said. ‘What’s going on?’
Hattie explained. ‘He’s given me ten days to get it all together, which will not be easy.’ She handed Susie a sheet which had all her calculations on it.
Susie put on her reading glasses and studied the paper. ‘That house is a bit under underpriced, actually, but you know that.’
Hattie nodded. ‘I can just about manage at that price, if you can get me a mortgage – at a decent rate.’
Susie bit on her bottom lip, her eyes still on the paper. ‘I can probably get you a mortgage if you’ve got at least three years’ accounts – which you have, don’t you?’
‘Yes, of course.’
‘And deposit. I see here you have some savings, and you’ve got some Premium Bonds.’
Hattie nodded. ‘I bought them with money my grandmother left me. I don’t have quite enough but I’m hoping I can get there. I could sell my car but I would have to buy another one.’
‘The Bank of Mum and Dad?’ suggested Susie.
Hattie shook her head. ‘They are never open!’
‘Really?’
Hattie shook her head. ‘They never had a hand up when they were starting out; “neither a borrower nor a lender be”; and I have to make my own way in the world, I am not a child.’
Susie laughed. ‘It sounds as if you’ve asked them for money before.’
Hattie shook her head. ‘Not since I wanted to buy a second-hand bicycle when I was ten. And to be fair they didn’t say I wasn’t a child back then, but I’m in no doubt what the answer would be should I ask for help. It’s for my own good,’ she finished.
