With three children under five to deal with I struggle to get to work on time for a new week, and while trying to get out of the door I manage to catch my suit pocket on the latch.
After a few discreet mutterings to myself (there are children present after all) I recover my dignity and decide that I have to get to the office, even with an impressive tear from side to back, and a pocket hanging off.
After a busy weekend of viewings we receive four interesting offers on three properties. It would appear the market has not drifted into unconsciousness after all. I pop over to advise a couple who are in the process of downsizing from their family house in the village. Like many, they have been there for over 20 years.
I’m expecting the usual dance around on fees and prices, but they quickly ask me: “When can you start?”
Wow! Why can’t everyone be so easy to do business with? Maybe it’s because I have changed my suit...
We agree two of our weekend offers, and the week is looking up. I decide it will be good to go green today, so I borrow a colleague’s electric car to get along to a viewing. Hmmm. On the way back, climbing up Wimbledon Hill, the true reason why electric auto-motion hasn’t caught on becomes very clear.
The car, having transformed into a whelk, begins to struggle and slow to what can only be described as toddler pace: I could push it faster. If this is being green I think I’ll get a bike.
Below our office is a private members gym. This comes with its perks but also problems. This morning during our meeting, audible grunts and groans generate like a rather suspect chorus. And the music can create issues, too, although I think I have decided that Eric Prydz’s Call On Me is actually quite good to rev up the early morning team meeting. The second half of the day is taken over by a rather tetchy call with a client whose house is failing to sell. After an afternoon of negotiations, I feel as if I have been involved in Balkan diplomacy, but we finally agree an amended price.
Its 6pm and time to release some steam of my own - put on Eric Prydz, I’m going downstairs to the gym.
Sunny day, no kids waking me up and virtually no traffic. Admittedly, I only live a mile from the office but as always, the employee who lives the closest invariably arrives last. Tut tut... must do better. We have five viewings on the house we reduced yesterday. Hallelujah. What a difference a day makes.
Slight misunderstanding with a colleague later in the day, when I ask if she is popping out. She runs to the back office and desperately looks to see if her buttons have come undone. Finally, the penny drops... that is not what I meant. It’s time for tea.
Completion, exchanges and fall-throughs. Why do they all happen on a Friday?
We start the day with bad news - one of our buyers has lost their buyer, and she is about to have a baby and ready to nest.
We try all options to keep the sale together. I introduce the buyer to SPF Private Clients, our mortgage arm, and miraculously finance is sorted that will enable them to proceed with their sale and instead of selling their house they will rent it out.
Our client is thrilled and our lettings team will get the house to rent. We exchange on two properties and by the end of the day an offer comes in for the house we reduced on Wednesday, and it’s a cash buyer. In the words of George Formby: “Turned out nice again.” Now it’s time to celebrate.
Clive Moon is director of sales at Savills' Wimbledon branch (020 8971 8111)