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In someone else’s hands

It’s out of my hands.

And I’m having to accept that. Accept the fact that there’s nothing I can do. At the moment.

Because someone who I’ve never met, and never likely to meet, has made a decision not to buy the house they originally wanted in Watford, it means their vendors aren’t selling their house, and that affects all the houses down the line – including mine. So the chain is broken. Unless someone can do something, somewhere, to mend it. And it looks like it’s the vendor four more down the chain who is the one who may, just, be able to do something about it.

He’s offered to buy the house in Watford.
He doesn’t WANT the house in Watford, but if he buys it, then everyone down the line can move on to their new homes. Including me. But if he is unable to buy it, then we’re all back to square one and starting again.

And just to add to the fun of it all, I’m stuck in a nightmare scenario, not of my making, that means that some farmer somewhere, who I’d never heard of until last week, may hold the crux of my sale, if we can prove whether he does, or does not, own a particular piece of land.

Someone, somewhere, is making a lot of money out of this mess.
And its not me.