The Mistress and the rum realtors

The other evening as I fed the week’s dainties and morsels to the block’s garbage and recycling bins I was distracted from my act of benevolence by a very loud “Psssst”. I turned to see a man emerge from the shadows near the bins with an “excuse me" and "I’m sorry to startle you."

Well, how about not lurking in shadows and trespassing after dark, fella, not to mention saying "pssst", I thought , but instead said ,“oh that’s alright” and "How may I help you?" while taking several steps back. The last time this happens I’ll probably offer to sharpen the knife.

Having broken the ice, the fellow proceeded to grill me about the block of flats, asking how well they had been renovated, details about the fixtures and fittings, and whether the residents were happy with the quality of the renovations. Yes, I was still there in the shadows by the bins, intrigued by the ludicrous situation, I think it was the “pssst” that had reeled me in, but still somewhat cagey.

I answered his questions with questions and learnt that his father had apparently once owned the block and believed that he’d been diddled in the sale of the block to the developers. The sum he’d got sounded perfectly good to me (loads of lolly not to mention humbug all round) and as for the hard luck story, the previous owner was a slum landlord.

The tale continued for a while, how his grand pappy had laid the building’s bricks, etc. and that the dispute could go to court. I lost interest, my frontal lobe struck a gavel against its remains declaring both parties as bad as each other ("business is business, Gran(pa)" ). I then heard myself utter "oh, for fuck's sake" to something that realtor-in-the-dark said. This shocked him, granted swearing is a lot more offensive than lurking in the shadows and pouncing on people.

Conversation brought to a close he scrawled his number on a scrap of paper and asked me to contact him should I be prepared to provide further information. I have not. Property being theft and whatnot.