Somewhere to live

I confess the heart has gone out of Wife in Hong Kong. As I surveyed the children’s rooms this morning with a view to a pre-move clear out I asked myself, What’s the point?

A year ago, as I packed boxes and put stickers on our stuff indicating “sea” or “store”, I did so with a certain amount of gusto as I looked forward to our New Adventure.

Now as I contemplate yet another move the only emotion is a vague hope that our search for a home in London will not be quite as drawn-out as the search for a home in Hong Kong.

One year ago with only a couple of months to D-Day we lost out on the house of our dreams. It was a shabby bungalow in Shek’O, overlooking the golf course and the sea beyond. It had a lovely garden with a swing and a pool. I could see my kids there, totally happy in Hong Kong. We set our hearts on it, paid the deposit and got ourselves proposed for Country Club membership, an irritating and costly prerequisite of the tenancy since neither of us play golf.

Then the landlord started to agitate. We were on the waiting list for the Country Club but way off the top. Our contract was from the 1st of June and yet we would not be allowed move in before membership was confirmed. Our only option was to pay a huge sum to jump the list. Spread over three or four years, it could be regarded as an increase in the rent. We were about to bite the bullet when it became clear that the Country Club would not reveal when our membership might come up for discussion, regardless of the list-jumping fee. It could take up to a year. And then there was no guarantee we would be accepted. The money was non-refundable. We needed a place to live. We started to foresee a situation where we were paying rent on two properties. With sadness we let the house go.

The Pioneering Accountant left for Hong Kong in mid-May. His number one priority was to find us somewhere to live. He called home. I’ve found us a place. Will you come out to give it your seal of approval? I think he was just missing me but I went all the same. My Ma-in-law took the kids and I flew to Hong Kong for one night. The house was fine, only a small garden but it was right on the water, had a large roof terrace and a shared pool. It was in Stanley, just minutes from the beach. I envisaged my children there and gave it the thumbs up. Shek’O would have been a long schlep to work, to school, to the shops. No doubt it was all for the best.

We paid the deposit and I returned to London. Frequent telephone contact between Putney and Pacific Place, where my husband was lodged in a serviced apartment, revealed that all was not well. He hadn’t heard from our new landlady. She was away in China. She was not returning his calls. And then, without warning, without comment, the deposit cheque was returned by post. We never heard why.

With only weeks to go we had nowhere to live. There was no more time for another trip, the decision was out of my hands. The Pioneering Accountant told me later that there was barely a rental house or apartment in Hong Kong he hadn’t seen. He signed the contract in a hurry, desperate not to lose a third house. The previous tenants were moving out at the end of July so it could be ready for us by mid August. In the meantime we took a second serviced apartment and made do for two weeks while we waited for our sea freight to arrive. I saw our new home for the first time just days before we moved in. It was perfect. The Pioneering Accountant had done us proud and we had somewhere to call home.

In a few weeks time the Pioneering Accountant leaves for London and will, amongst other things, be looking for a house. So far we have lost out on three. We are either too far away for quick-fire negotiations, are not able to move in within two weeks, or else are an unattractive proposition for landlords looking for a long term let. It all sounds horribly familiar. I can only hope my Old Man hasn't lost his touch. Keep your fingers crossed.