What Goes Around

chapter FIFTY EIGHT

‘I don't want a board,’ I tell the estate agent. ‘And viewings are to be by appointment only and during school hours.’

‘People work.’ He points out.

‘Tough.’ If it's meant to be it will happen. I'm not having Charlotte being put through people trudging around when, the way the market is, it might not even sell.

She is excited though, at the prospect of moving.

Honestly, we’ve chatted it through and I’ve explained to her that if I sell, then there is no reason she can’t stay at her school.

She just doesn’t want to go there.

She started at the local comprehensive yesterday and I’ve just come from dropping her off today and my heart is in knots as to how she is getting on.

‘You don’t want to turn away a prospective buyer,’ he warns me.

‘If they’re serious buyers, then I’ll make arrangements. If you don't want the house on your books, I’ll get someone else.’

He reassures me then, that of course he wants the house and yes he can sell it, he’s got the very person in mind actually! He took one look at me and saw a simpering widow, thought that he had me worked out…

He hasn't a clue!

‘I don't even want to hear about offers below the asking price.’

‘I have to keep you up-to-date if there is a serious offer.’

‘It’s a serious offer if it's the asking price or above,’ I tell him.

Oh, I tell him!

And no, he’s not getting a key.

Do you know how many shagging opportunities estate agents have?

I can hear Marcus now. ‘I’m just taking Lucy to look through a house.’ Then he’d select a key.

I was sixteen.

I’m sure there are nice reputable ones. I just hate the lot of them.

I have him crossing out clauses in the contract.

He tells me he’s already dropping his percentage, when I argue about it.

I make him drop it again.

Oh, I’m a bitch, I know that, but I can use it for good sometimes.

‘Well, thank you for the opportunity,’ he’s so pissed off that he can hardly get the words out. ‘I'm looking forward to working with you, Lucy and selling your beautiful home.’

‘Working for me,’ I correct and watch his shoulders stiffen.

As I walk back in the house I realised that not once did I flirt.

Not once.

He tried.

I’m just not playing that game anymore.