Diary of an estate agent

5 April 2012
The Weekender

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Monday

Called a client to give him feedback from an American banker who had flown in especially to buy a property and had viewed his five-storey Chelsea house.

The banker was relocating from Manhattan, leaving a huge modern apartment with floor-to-ceiling windows, underground parking and high-speed lifts.

"Cute, sweet, quaint," exclaimed the banker when he saw the place, but these were not the words our disappointed client wanted to hear.

Later, spurred into action by a call from an agent acting for a pop diva, who wants to invest her royalties in Chelsea bricks and mortar, I arranged a tour of five properties for her. This meant asking the owners to make themselves scarce as our star insisted that no one be at home while she was viewing. Fortunately, most of our owners would rather not be there either.

Tuesday

A 7:30am appointment with a barrister for a second viewing of a house in Chester Square means an early start.

To create a good impression, and at great expense, my client had fresh flowers in all the rooms the night before. I arrived at 7:10am to open the house, turn on lights and switch on music (some soothing light classics).

While running around, another client called on my mobile, panicking in case his buyer pulled out. He'd already had a drink to soothe his nerves. I calmed him down, but the day didn't improve. My next call was from the barrister, cancelling our appointment.

Wednesday

A wake-up call from the pop star's PA confirmed our meeting for this afternoon and reiterated the need for absolute secrecy and discretion.

The pop star's bodyguards, large men in dark overcoats, arrived at the first property in convoy, just minutes before she pulled up in a large Mercedes with blacked-out windows. Just the thing for not being noticed, I thought, but there was no time for chit chat. She swept around at speed, the PA trailing behind.

Our tour passed swiftly and without comment, so no clue as to which, if any, she liked. At least it wasn't as bad as my last tour of four properties. I picked up three parking tickets and was towed away from the last. A very expensive afternoon.

Thursday

Took a call from a chap asking for a valuation on a house as he wants to move on. He has spent more than £1 million renovating it over the past two years, although it might have been cheaper to knock it down and start from scratch.

It had been stripped back to the bricks and then fitted with all the toys: a sliding glass roof over the roof terrace, the basement excavated for an underground pool, bespoke marble bathrooms and a kitchen with a floor of stone imbedded with fossils.

Over a cappuccino - from the built-in cappuccino maker - he explained he wanted 20 per cent over the market value because of all the work. After much tactful footwork, we compromised on the asking price and he signed on the dotted line.

Friday

A call from a reporter saying he had seen me going into a property on Wednesday and wanted to know who was going to buy it. He must have been following us, although it couldn't have been hard tailing such a conspicuous entourage.

Told him I couldn't possibly comment, terribly sorry, had to dash. And I did. It was exchange day for my overanxious client fretting about a last-minute price reduction. I could feel the tension mounting, but at 3pm contracts were exchanged.

The icing on the cake was an offer from our pop star on the last property she had seen. A surveyor was organised within 15 minutes and solicitors instructed immediately. It's amazing how quickly things can happen when you are used to getting your way.

Richard Gutteridge is an associate partner at Knight Frank in Sloane Avenue, SW3. Call 020 7591 8600.

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