Sweet Revenge Without The Drama

...SUCCESS is the best revenge!

I can't remember a time when I've seen her so happy. I'm happy too - broke, but happy!

For years I'd lived next door to 'Cruella-de-Vil'. A bitter and twisted lady in her 60s, who rarely had a good word to say about anyone.

But my lovely, sweet daughter has managed to buy the house. It's taken so much of my money - but then, I can always make money.

Cruella's complaints were endless ... there's too many trees in your garden ... it's the wrong weed in the river ... the farmer put some cows in the field opposite her house ... she complained about the smell ... and said that when she went into her back garden, the cows would present their rear-end towards her and defecate in her face! Yes, I know, I'm still chuckling about it now.

Cruella and her husband lived in the rental property next door for years. She had an argument with her neighbour on the other side of them. On one occasion she told me that they wanted to buy the house.

At the time, I was working for an insurance company who had just purchased a programme called 'Mortgage Brain'. Mortgage Brain was a programme that compared all the mortgages available on the market and selected the best one for the clients, based on their circumstances.

The plan was that the programme was offered to Independent Financial Brokers for free, in exchange for them selling the Company's policies.

I wasn't authorised to give advice, and said to her 'if you can afford to pay rent, then the chances are good that you can afford to pay a mortgage'. Lenders always look at the affordability of prospective buyers.

But no, no, no - she couldn't accept that (in hindsight that was brilliant!)

... And then, one magical morning, whilst I was upstairs in the bathroom, the voice in my head cried out in joy ... 'THEY'RE MOVING!'

I could hardly dare to believe it, she had tried to ruin every happy day for my neighbours and me. But I'm obstinate, bloody minded, and was generous enough to give her plenty of rope! If I'm honest I probably caused some of it by ignoring the constant harping.

There were several other tenants who moved into the house after they left, but they were all disasters. The Landlord was too mean to pay for vetting.

I was actually getting tired of the drama, but God works in mysterious ways. God, or the fates, seemed to be moving the pieces around on the chessboard of my life.

Then the Landlord decided to sell up. I enquired about a rental mortgage, which was agreed in principle. Then my daughter said she wanted to buy the house. I offered her as much as I could afford and she made an offer, unfortunately, this was too low and the house went under offer to another couple.

But I never gave up hope! Every day I prayed to God for a miracle.

Then the sale fell through ... but the buyers came up with some more money. Then they decided to have a Full Structural Survey. Inevitably, this brought up some more problems. The buyers tried to get more money off the asking price, but the seller told them she had already reduced the price by enough.

... And so, the house was offered to my daughter. She was over the moon, and so was I!

The journey to this point had many twists and turns, dead ends and wild goose chases. The Landlord's father was a beekeeper, and it was through him that I was introduced to beekeeping. He grew up locally and told me his best friend at school was a boy named Alf Davies, who lived next to my family when I was a child.

We lived in a large house with an half an acre of land with road frontage on the side of the house. Alf grew his vegetables on the plot, and my parents were happy to let him continue.

When the council wanted to improve the road, the residents were expected to pay for it. My parents sold the land to a local builder, and the money paid for the road (my inheritance!) I'm not bitter, or I may end up like Cruella de Vil.