It’s your move, or more likely mine. Week 22-25

The weeks have flown by haven’t they. I cannot believe we are over the half way point for 2017. By now I had expected to not only have sorted out a mortgage but be well on the way to finding a property that matched our lending limit. I nagged my husband to get the company accounts emailed to our accountant the moment 5 April arrived and I similarly tallied up my earnings for the year, which given the fact I held down five different part-time jobs was no easy task.

But by the second week of April everything was emailed. Now for the waiting.

I had dropped a few hints to the accountant that would hopefully get things moving, things like: ‘look forward to hearing from you very soon’ and ‘fingers crossed you will have some good news for our mortgage broker’ and ‘I am so desperate to get a mortgage, please hurry up’.

But the weeks passed, just a bit too quickly and each week I hoped to hear the sound of a heavy A4 sized enveloped falling with a thud in the porch. But no thud came.

Two weeks ago I emailed him enquiring how things were going, then a phone call, another email and finally a pleading begging email.

The accounts finally came through last week, the first week of July; three months later than I had hoped.

But all was forgiven and I quickly despatched them to our mortgage broker who replied by return…with more questions that required reverting to the accountant:

• What was my salary for last two financial years
• What dividend had I been paid for last two financial years
• Could he see proof of a pension fund
• Could he see a wage slip
• What was my current salary
• Ditto my husband

I groaned in despair.

But instead of another three months, it was less than a day before the reply came back.

I felt elated and the closest I have felt for several years to securing a mortgage. The company accounts looked good, we had a small deposit and all debts paid off, what better risk could any mortgage company have than that?

Then the slow deflation began; he thinks it best to talk over the phone.

After the months of agonising waiting for the end of the financial year, after months of waiting to secure a small deposit, after years and years of living in rented houses, the light at the end of the tunnel has started to dim just a little.

I’m working full-time now so a phone call during the day is not so easy, that means an evening call which will be subject to the usual evening chaos. I’m hopeful he will give me some good news but fear he may not.

I was hoping to book a very short family holiday this summer, I’m thinking that if the broker says the only mortgage we can get is too small to buy a postage stamp so you may as well forget it, I may well blow caution to the wind and book an amazing full-blown bells and whistles kind of holiday and resign myself to many more months financing someone else’s pension.

But maybe he has some good news, I guess I’ll have to wait some more. I just hope it won’t be another half year before I hear anything.