Why be in a city centre when nothing’s happening there, and where should you be when civilisation ends? Covid-19 has turned the housing market into an existential crisis
I went into lockdown feeling smug about almost nothing, except one small thing: right after it, whenever that was, we were going to move house. We had a buyer, we had a seller and the best bit was they were one and the same. We were basically swapping houses – no, sorry, this is the best bit – with a vicar.
It had been a winding, perilous road. In our first meeting (location: his house), knowing his calling, I tried to sound much more Christian than I am. But men of the cloth can always smell it when you do that. The second and third meetings (location: our house), I answered the door in a towel and in pyjamas, respectively; looking back, there wasn’t a single time I was appropriately dressed in this entire long-range encounter, except when visiting his house.
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