I could recite the standard advice on instructing an estate agent in my sleep. Always invite three to do a valuation, don’t go for the one who quotes the highest asking price, and haggle on commission.
However, it’s not until you sell your own house that you realise this mantra doesn’t even begin to prepare you for the shark-infested waters ahead.
Here was the biggest investment I have ever made, my only source of equity, the once-dream home where I had raised two children. Here was my soul writ large on Rightmove. Tread softly? Any pride I once felt was trampled into the ten tons of dust disturbed by ‘decluttering’ it for the sales brochure.
After diligently sourcing those three agents, I instructed the one who enthused over the period features, not the one who turned up early, got round four floors and a garden in ten minutes, and handed his business card to my teenage son.
First mistake.
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