The front garden is barely big enough to park my bike in, the kitchen cabinets look like they were last cleaned in about 1985 and the hinges on the cupboard doors are rusted and wonky. The boiler is so old it’s practically coal-fired, and the floor tiles scream mid-90s B&Q.
The back door doesn’t shut properly and the flat roof is a building regs nightmare. The bedrooms are bijou, to put it politely, and the tint of magnolia on the walls is pervasive. The back patio – about the size of your average bus shelter, in estate agent speak ‘cosy’ –
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