If you’re anything like me, you make your Christmas budget, and then promptly blow it. ‘It’s Christmas’, we say, ‘let’s go all out!’ And then come January, when your bank account looks bleak and the credit card bill rolls in, we don’t feel quite so joyous. So this year, I’ve decided to be sensible and try to save money without scrimping on the festivities. Here are my top ten tips to avoid a financial hangover this Christmas:

1. Make your budget… and stick to it. It’s easy to make a budget and ignore it, so be firm and abide by the budget. The Money Advice Service have launched a Christmas money planner, which is a fantastic tool to help you plan. It budgets everything from presents to decorations, so definitely give this one a go.
2. Keep your Christmas money in a separate account. As with any big purchase, it’s sensible to keep the money separate so it doesn’t get mixed up with your day-to-day living costs. Plus, it’s way easier to track your spending this way.
3. Take a look at who you’re buying presents for… do you have to buy for everyone? If you’ve always sent a gift to the friend you never see, ditch the present and suggest a date to catch up over lunch in January. Huge family to buy for? Why not suggest drawing a name out of a hat so that everyone buys one great gift.
4. Online all the way. It’s no secret that online is usually cheaper, but I personally find it easier to shop around and keep track of my spending. If you have a specific gift in mind, take advantage of one of the many price comparison tools. I like Idealo and Pricespy for speedy results.
5. You can make cash as you spend, so get cashback savvy and sign up to Quidco. Simply head to their website or app, search the retailer you are about to buy from, and click through to your website of choice. You’ll get anything up to 20% of what you spend credited to your Quidco account, which you can transfer to your bank account or upload to an eVoucher. I’ve made £200 in cashback this year so far.   
6. Always search for a discount code before you shop. Head to Vouchercodes.co.uk for codes that are tested and working, and sign up to emails for subscriber offers. There are always plenty around Christmas.
7. Get crafty. Now, not all of us have time for handmade presents, but if you have a creative streak and some extra time, a handmade present is always well received. It can even be something simple like a Christmas cake! Head to Pinterest for the lowdown on some genuinely nice gifts.
8. Christmas is the perfect excuse to eat like a king for at least three weeks, and we’re all guilty going overboard on the Christmas food shop. Save money by shopping at budget supermarkets, like Lidl, Aldi, and Iceland
9. Trial Amazon Prime for free, and get free, unlimited one-day delivery on everything. Just don’t forget to cancel your trial.
10. Book your festive travel in advance. The cheapest train tickets are released up to 12 weeks before your planned travel, so book early for the biggest discounts. Check out Trainline.com for easy comparison.

It can be really easy to go overboard at Christmas, but with a little bit of financial planning you can ease the January financial blues without missing out on all the festive fun.

The post How to avoid a financial hangover this Christmas appeared first on Mouthy Money.

The common stereotypes are of the single teenage mum, or of Channel 4’s infamous series ‘Benefits Street’….of housing to be avoided unless one is in absolute dire need.

However, the history and principle of social housing couldn’t be further from this, and represents a more egalitarian and classless ideal.

The History

In 1919, Prime Minister David Lloyd George launched his “Homes Fit for Heroes” campaign over the concerns over the physical condition of army recruits. However, it wasn’t until the post-war Labour government run by Clement Atlee that the age of social housing really emerged.

Under Atlee’s government, over a million new homes were built, 80% of which were council houses. These were mostly to replace homes destroyed by the previous conflict.

The aim of these homes was also to have people of different ages and economic backgrounds living together in the community, and blur the lines between class and income. The middle and working classes could live side by side in a comfortable manner.

The Right To Buy

Margaret Thatcher introduced the so-called “Right To Buy” in her government’s Housing Act of 1980. This ensured that anyone who wanted to own their own home had a right to buy the council house that they were living in.

In theory, this sounded like a great idea, but in practice the Conservative government didn’t replace the houses that they sold off, thus creating a shortage in the housing stock. The income generated from the ‘Right To Buy’ Scheme should have been given back to the local authorities to build more houses, but instead it disappeared into the coffers of national government.

Due to the housing shortage, council properties went from being for everyone, to the poorest of the poor, with ginormous waiting lists of people in desperate need of shelter, and some even being housed in bed & breakfasts and hotels as an alternative to
stable, affordable housing.

At a recent Labour meeting, I was astounded to hear a young member’s objection to more social housing being built. “People like myself have aspirations, and we want to own our own homes,” he spouted, totally unaware of the purpose and history of council housing.

Many older people that now own homes have told me that they were able to afford to do so during a period of their lives when rent was affordable enough for them to save up for a deposit. Nowadays a lot of young people’s wages get sucked up by private landlords.

Despite being more educated, Millennials now spend up to three times more of their income on housing than their grandparents did.

If our country loses any more of its grip on affordable housing, we’re likely to see even more poverty arrive on our doorstep.

Photo by Norbert Levajsics on Unsplash.

The post Who is social housing for? appeared first on Mouthy Money.

Don’t worry; I’m not going to harp on at you about the [forthcoming/recent] generation-defining episode which [might consign/ has consigned] us into the political equivalent of a Mad Maxian desert wilderness. I am far too much of a yammering man-child with insufficient real world experience to provide anything like a coherent argument on the subject so I tend to avoid in-depth analysis.

Indeed, as ill-equipped as I am to discuss the referendum, I find that I am equally unprepared to face any of the actualities of adult life.

Aged 24, my parents were:

1. a) Married
2. b) Homeowners
3. c) Contemplating starting a family
4. d) Born-again Rastafarians*

*possibly untrue

Despite my superb dating advice, I am uncompromisingly single, am terrified by the prospect of children and begin hyperventilating every time I hear the word ‘mortgage’.

In this sense I judge myself relatively similar to many British people in their 20s, though I doubt that other people are also haunted by the ghost of an 11th century crusading Knight.

There are some, however, for whom ownership is not just a pipe dream. A school friend of mine and his partner have recently done the unthinkable and taken a step onto the property ladder.

In May 2016, Sam and Charlotte took out a mortgage to purchase a house in Ilchester, a village in Somerset, and began renovating the property with an aim to starting a joint household.
Accordingly, as a means of educating myself and anyone else out there who is thinking of taking a similar step, I asked Sam a few questions about the process so far.

How big is your mortgage?

(He gulps slightly) £ 158,000.

Who is your mortgage provider?

 Virgin Money. We shopped around for a bit and they stood out compared to competitors. A nice bonus was their offer of £300 cash back.

What was getting the mortgage sorted like (Difficult / Easy / Scary etc.)?

When we actually got to it the whole process was ridiculously stressful, despite being told that I had an excellent credit rating for a mortgage for years. The main thing to say is that you’ve got to be really careful about filling in the paperwork – especially when someone made a few incorrect salary assumptions that nearly cost the mortgage.

That was you, wasn’t it?

Yes.

You bellend. How did you prepare for buying the house – did you have a plan?

Save, save, a little crying, and more saving. In terms of a plan we sort of went with the flow. Being newcomers to the housing market we were spent the majority of the time on sites such as Money Saving Expert.

Why did you decide to buy a house in the countryside?

For us, it was a combination of perks that come from a house outside of the city. The property has a great garden and is in a lovely area with hill walks and beaches adjacent. I do have to commute a fair distance daily to get to work but we both agreed that it was worth it for the chance to get on the property ladder. We took the opinion that paying rent to a landlord was chucking money away and, since we don’t live in London or Bristol, we had the option not to join generation rent.

What’s the first thing you’re getting sorted in your house?

Ermm, there are a few things to get sorted in the house. Probably the boiler and heating system first, as that is blocking the plastering, which we need to do before we can resolve the rising damp… no big deal. First thing we did though was paint the outside – hides the mess inside.

Jesus, sounds like there’s a lot to be done. Is anything working?

(He ponders for a while). Well, since it’s an old house (I think that’s the justification; I’m still learning) we get unmetered water! No comments from me about how long people stay in our shower – when we get a shower that is.

Do you feel that homeownership is an important next step in your relationship?

Yes, we both wanted to move out, neither of us wanted to rent and want to be with each other, why not. Live for today, mortgage for tomorrow, and the next day, and the next day.

How are you not constantly terrified?

 I self-medicate. I’m kidding: when you’re going through the process with someone else it makes the whole thing less scary. I think that doing it on your own would be terrifying.

The post Mortgage madness: confessions of a millennial on the property ladder appeared first on Mouthy Money.

 What age of car do you think offers the best value for money? 

It’s not as simple as that. Many factors govern the price of a secondhand car, such as mileage, condition and service history.

 Do you think electric cars offer better value for money?

I think electric cars will start to become more popular in the future. At the minute the cost of the car outweighs the benefits in my opinion but as battery technology gets better and the distance you can travel in them increases I think we will see a massive increase in the sales of electric cars.

What things should a car buyer look out for in a secondhand car?

One of the most important things to check out is the service history – make sure the car has been well serviced at regular intervals and main dealer history doesn’t mean it has been serviced better than if an independent garage has done it. In fact in my opinion independents do a more thorough job. It is also important to HPI check [run a background check on its history] any vehicle to ensure it has not been an insurance write-off or have any outstanding finance attached to it.

What things can a car owner do to save money, and prolong the life of their car? 

Again regular servicing although it has a cost attached to it helps prolong the life of a car. Things are picked up during a service that can prevent any future faults costing more money – for example if brakes are required on a service, its more likely to just need brake pads whereas if a customer has the brakes checked because of a noise, most of the time discs need to be replaced as well.

Are there any small repairs that you would recommend people learn how to do?

Regular checking of the oil and water and tyre pressures is an important maintenance measure to carry out. Other than that, cars are getting so complex, it is best left to an expert.

The post What age of car offers best value for money? appeared first on Mouthy Money.

What was it supposed to look like? No idea.

Shopping for a wedding ring was interesting, for much the same reason.  I don’t wear jewellery.  Ever.  I don’t wear a watch.  I don’t even like scarves.  Stuff hanging off me, or encircling any part of me, makes me uncomfortable and uneasy.

I had absolutely no idea what I wanted in a ring.  This is a symbolic piece of metal, that I was required to wear on my hand for the rest of my days.  I was going to be looking at this thing until my eyes couldn’t see.  What was it supposed to look like?

I could have been shopping for tin openers.  I wandered, bored, in and out of jewellery franchises, looking for a piece of metal at an appropriate price, that didn’t offend me.  None of them offended me.  None of them pleased me.

I gathered the troops.  ‘M’ and the girls gallantly traipsed in and out of the same shops that I’d already checked.  I took comfort from the fact that they were as bored as me – even more so, because kids don’t shop well (a proven fact).  Maybe I wasn’t missing some important part of my psyche?  Maybe…these were just shit rings?

These rings…they had a history.

We gave up and grabbed a coffee.  As we sat outside the brewhouse, sipping, I spied a small, independent jewellers booth, with signs proudly proclaiming ‘second hand wedding bands – all stock must go’.  I wandered over, and started bemoaning my disinterest to the patient and receptive young lady working there.  She pulled out a rack of overpriced second hand wedding bands, which varied wildly in style and quality.  Nevertheless, I felt something inside me stir – these rings had history.  These weren’t just anonymous pieces of metal.  These rings had represented something, someone.  These rings had been handed from proud best men, slipped on to trembling hands by excited brides.  Rubbed nervously at moments of temptation.  Flung across living rooms, during devastating arguments.  These rings had stories.  These rings had lived.

It was perfect. But not quite…

She pulled out a few more bands, and then I saw something that made me pause.  It was a white and rose gold band.  I’d never even heard of rose gold.  But my inner Gollum was rubbing his hands in glee, his eyes wide, taking in the gleam.

I had a reference point!  I ran back to ‘M’, who’d just about finished her coffee.  We dragged the unamused children with us to the booth, where ‘M’ expressed her surprise that I’d found something that wasn’t hideous, then whispered in my ear that we should have a look at some Etsy type crafty ringmakers, who might whip us up something more specific, for a lot less.  And new, because despite my sentimental ramblings above, I didn’t want a ring with psychic baggage.

Sarah Jane Egan, of fragmentdesigns.com, did us a lovely job on two rose gold bands, with engravings inspired by nature and trees and stuff.  Great work, great price, they were with us in just over a week.  Happy days!

I’m starting to get really excited.  As much as it’s been a pain in the arse to plan, at times, I might be a bit gutted when it’s all over.

The post My precious: one groom’s search for a ring that didn’t cost the (middle) earth appeared first on Mouthy Money.

The beginning has been slow. We’ve seen six properties so far. A couple have been immediate ‘nos,’ a couple have been ‘well, maybes’. It’s hard to get excited about things when you have a nagging feeling something better is just round the corner. Then again, we have already learned that nothing ever looks as good as it does on the photos.

We’re lucky to be in this position. But buy-to-lets are skewing the market.

Of course, we are lucky to even be in a position to buy a property, and especially in London, although being towards the lower end of the affordability scale, the hunt seems ruthless, with the best options picked off the market in 24 hours.

I also have a horrible feeling that considering the price range and the areas we’re looking at, we are up against a bunch of buy-to-let landlords, who are still somehow pushing on despite the steps the government has taken to curb their activities.

I am not talking about oligarchs buying up flats in shiny glass buildings called something-plaza that cost over a million and so are way out of our reach. I am talking about the average (mostly) baby boomer, who has made some money and has now decided to invest in a property. On a less selfish level, as a financial writer and editor (yes, that’s what I do as a day job), I tend to roll my eyes at people who solely invest in property anyway.

Nothing ever looks as good as it does on the photos.

Of course, the world needs landlords. Not everyone can or even wants to buy a house. But it’s depressing to walk around Battersea and keep staring at all these TO LET signs, thinking how entire areas of London have been taken over by eager buy-to-letters, pricing first-time buyers permanently out of the market.

On the flipside, the bizarre thing I have noticed among agents is the obsession with location, location, location, with not much consideration about the state of the property.

We can always shove the overnight guests in a storage cupboard.

‘Yes, it needs a bit of work, but you are SO close to the station,’ announces one, despite my boyfriend and I pointing out we don’t have a budget for repairs.

‘But this place has excellent storage,’ says another, sending us a link to a one-bedroom flat that is also £60k over our budget, despite us emphasising we definitely want two bedrooms. Of course, we can always shove the overnight guests in a storage cupboard. Of course, I will take my laptop and write my novel in a storage cupboard. Why the hell not? Thanks for pointing that out.

Sometimes I wonder why they can’t be honest, take you aside and say: ‘You are being unrealistic.’ Instead, we follow a strange non-sequitur: ‘You said that first two-bedroom was too small and you didn’t like the state of the other two-bedroom, so tomorrow I will show you a three-bedroom that needs a bit of work.’ It takes a lot of persistence to be a property agent, I suppose.

I better go and refresh my Rightmove search. The saga continues…

The post Beating back the buy-to-lets: why our search for a first home is impossible! appeared first on Mouthy Money.

What I hadn’t bargained for was the complete lack of decent waistcoats available in the North West area.  “French farmhouse rustic chic, eh?” remarked the suit hire shop assistant ruefully.  “No-one’s really caught on to that round here.  You’ll need to get out in the sticks, far from civilization, somewhere simpler, where folks spend their time outdoors, battling nature.  Try Wigan.”

Marriage. Welcome in discomfort and penury!

The high street had nothing.  The posher high street had nothing.  The internet had worse than nothing.  What was I going to do?  I had two weeks to go.  The purple tuxedo of my nightmares was beginning to look like a depressing reality.

As I tossed and turned in bed, I was visited by the coughing, spluttering ghost of my great great grandfather.  “Get to Boundary Mill, lad,” he eventually wheezed out.  “They’ll see you right.”

Boundary Mill, for the uninitiated, is where people without hobbies go when they retire.  On the carpark at 9.55 on Sunday morning, I briefly enjoyed the novelty of being the youngest person around, as I jostled to the front of the crowd of elders clamouring for bargains.

The purple tuxedo of my nightmare now looked like a depressing reality.

Once inside, I felt the tears run, unbidden, down my cheeks, as the overwhelming relief rose up like a geyser.  I’d stepped into fashion history.  Childhood memories of cuddling my grandparents came flooding back, as I let my fingers trail across rack after rack of vintage designs, chunky knits, and tweed – good, thick, honest, Harris tweed.  I’d hit the waistcoat motherlode.  Now my problem was too much choice!

Tears running down my face, I let my fingers trail across rack after rack of vintage designs…

To cut a long story short, I got a way better outfit than I’d hoped for.  I’d been mentally downsizing my expectations since I started my quest, but Boundary Mill restored my faith, with a twinkly eye and a Werther’s Original.  Three men, outfitted in high quality, classic vintage formal wear for under £500.  I’d highly recommend this place if you live anywhere near Bolton (maybe not for beachwear though).  The staff made it their personal quest to help me not look like a dick, and we’re now sorted.  Apart from the rings…

The post Something old: I saved hundreds on my wedding suit by going vintage appeared first on Mouthy Money.

The landlord won his appeal because of ‘extenuating circumstances’. We were going back to court…

Nearly a year after the letter of doom from the landlord, we were going back to court. This time we knew he was going to turn up to the hearing, and we knew he was going to come back at us all guns blazing. We desperately needed legal help, but with our combined incomes we didn’t qualify for legal help and our measly salaries wouldn’t stretch to a solicitor.

We were so scared. How can we go up against this man?

We spent hours scouring the internet for advice, posting our woes on forums and tapping up any of our friends with a legal connection. We’re clever graduates who have done nothing wrong, I kept telling myself. But our confidence was drastically waning. We were stressed out and scared about what would happen next. How can we go up against this man?

A couple of weeks before the hearing we had to submit a ‘bundle’ to the court. The bundle of hell, as we called it, was a beast containing all of our evidence and arguments as to why we should win. The landlord also had to prepare a bundle, and we had to exchange said bundles before the court hearing.

And oh what an eye-opener his bundle was. He’d managed to amass a pile of receipts on work he’d said he needed to do to fix the house up. The most ludicrous was a purchase of a £200 table to replace the £10 Ikea one in our lounge. He had photographed every nook and cranny, and circled areas he found offensive such as ‘cobwebs behind the fridge.’ He’d upped his total claim to over £10K.

He launched into a tirade about what awful tenants we were.

The court date arrived. I had a little customary cry, chain-smoked, put my suit on, and went to court. Judge Judy (as I called her) was sitting there glaring and looking like she was about to spit flames. The outline for the afternoon was for us each to present our arguments, followed by a chance for us to exchange questions, followed by a decision. The landlord went first.

He launched into a tirade about what awful tenants we were. He made a stream of outrageous claims to imply we were all morally corrupt. He said he had no idea of we were moving out, even though he’d signed our notice letter. And finally that we’d intentionally caused a damp problem by shutting the bathroom doors and ‘collecting the steam’ just to slight him.

A highlight was when he whipped out a piece of floorboard apparently from the property, to show the damage. Judge Judy shot him down and made him put it away because it wasn’t permissible to waltz in with new evidence. I laughed until she shouted at me too.

The landlord rambled on for hours until it was our turn. I don’t really remember what happened or what we said, which is very odd…maybe my mind blocked it out, but I don’t think it went particularly well. We had a break for lunch, slumped to a coffee shop and gave ourselves a serious pep talk before going back in for questions and answers.

We’d prepared for this in detail, after reading that the questions should be structured so the respondent can only reply with a yes or no.  I was the one asking the questions and I had them memorised by heart. However, the landlord had not prepared. He bumbled through a couple of vague questions and tied himself up in knots. We’ve got this I thought. I looked at him and thought of all the stress and upset he’d caused me and my best friends over the past two years, and all the adrenaline and rage lit up in me for some kick-ass questioning. Was there an inventory? Er, no. So how can you prove it was us? Well, I can’t but… You said you didn’t know we were moving out but you signed our notice didn’t you? Well yes. And so forth. With each of our questions his whole argument was shot to shit.

Then it was time for the verdict from Judge Judy. We held our breath and said a silent prayer. Judge Judy summarised both sides of the argument and delivered her views. She said it was his responsibility to do an inventory and in the absence of one he could not prove any damage was caused by us. She said she couldn’t see any damage that would prevent him from re-letting the property. And that the extra work he’d had done was excessive. That his claim was disproportionate and opportunistic. We had WON!

We got our deposit back, and we didn’t have to pay that man a penny more of our money. It was a horrible experience to go through, but, as always, right wins over wrong. Here’s what I want to pass on to any renter going through difficulty with their landlord.

• Get a signed inventory and take your own pictures of the smallest detail that you think could bite you in the bum afterwards.
• Make sure your deposit is in a tenancy deposit scheme.
• Get your landlord to acknowledge receipt of your notice in advance.
• If your landlord kicks off about damage, they’re only allowed to charge you for the proportion of what it would cost for a replacement.
• Don’t be afraid to take legal action if you need to. Ours is an extreme case, but we won in the end.

Most landlords are nice and want the best for their property and their tenants. But some are not, so do take care.

The post What happened when our landlord took all of our money – Part Three appeared first on Mouthy Money.

“I will be keeping your deposit of £2,500 to cover the damage you caused from your party. Following a previous inspection of the property I will be charging a further £3,000 to cover the damage you have caused during your tenancy.”

So at the end our tenancy, our landlord was demanding nearly £6,000. I read the letter over and over, trying to come to terms with how anyone could be that ridiculous. There was genuinely no damage and we really had looked after the property.

My house mate Ella and I had a little cry. Lauren and Andrew, our other housemates, came home and we had a group breakdown. I rang Shelter in tears, and explained what had happened. ‘Is there an inventory?’ they asked.

I called him a money-grabbing opportunist, so he got up and walked out.

No, he never did one. ‘Then he hasn’t got a leg to stand on. He can’t prove what it was like when you moved in. If he doesn’t give you back your deposit then you can always take him to the small claims court.’

We set up a meeting with the landlord to discuss the situation. It proved fruitless, and escalated into another blazing row. I called him a money-grabbing opportunist, so he got up and walked out.  He sent us another letter saying if we didn’t pay the additional £3,000 he would start legal proceedings against us. Not if we get there first, I thought.

A letting agent came round on the day we moved out to re-advertise the property, so we looked online and found ads showing the property as immediately available. Funny how he could rent it out with all that ‘damage’ we had caused!

We moved out and waited to hear from him. He didn’t get in touch and hung on to our deposit with his greedy little hands. We wrote to him with no response. We spent endless hours on the phone to the Citizen’s Advice Bureau and Shelter.

The ridiculous thing was our deposit was meant to be in a Tenancy Deposit scheme, but because our deposit was so high we didn’t qualify for one. And even though we were on rubbish graduate salaries, we couldn’t get any legal assistance because our ‘collective’ salary was so high. We were completely on our own.

We assumed it would be pretty straightforward as he had zero evidence. WRONG!

We filed a claim in the small claims court, which consisted of our argument and our evidence. We highlighted things like the lack of proof and inventory, included fifty pictures of the property, and the letting ads he’d put up when we moved out.

It cost us about £75, and back then you could put in a claim for any amount up to £5k. There is no hearing, it’s all decided internally and the court contacts you with the outcome. We assumed it would be pretty straightforward as he had zero evidence. WRONG!

The landlord counterclaimed for £12,000. This took the case out of the small claims court, and into the big, proper, scary court. This was a clever, clever move on the landlord’s part because it meant he could delay it even further.

He said we had to pay for him to replace all the wood flooring, repaint every wall in the house, replace the furniture, and fix the damp problem. So basically, he wanted us refurbish his entire house at our expense.

I had visions of losing and having to find thousands to pay for something I hadn’t done.

Six months later the big, proper, scary court date arrived. We had no solicitor or help because we couldn’t afford one. We were in too deep to go back.

I have never been so nervous in my entire life. I had visions of losing and having to find thousands of pounds to pay for something I hadn’t even done.

Court was every bit as daunting as I imagined, but rather than being in a TV-esque courtroom it was a small room with a very nice judge. With a bizarre twist, the landlord didn’t bother to turn up which meant we had won regardless.

We rejoiced and celebrated that this horrible episode was over. Yet again, WRONG.

Our insane landlord appealed the decision and said he missed the court date because a family member was ill. So we all got sent back to court where he sat there looking sheepish.

The landlord took off his coat. ‘Did I ask you to strip off in my courtroom,’ our judge said. Poor Andrew asked if he could go to the loo. ‘Don’t ask me, just get up and go!’ she shouted. I would have laughed if I hadn’t been silently crying.

The landlord won his appeal because of ‘extenuating circumstances’. But that wasn’t the end of the saga.

To be continued.

(Photo credit: Juriy Ruse on Flickr)

The post What happened when our landlord took all our money – Part Two appeared first on Mouthy Money.

But what do you do when your landlord is not so lovely (in fact, a complete mentalist) and you’re paying to live somewhere you hate? That’s exactly what happened to me and my friends in our first London home. We’ve all heard nightmare landlord stories, but I’m yet to hear one as nightmarish as mine.

My housemate came home early to find our landlord’s wife roller-skating around our house

I was 23. After traipsing round London and having letting agents laugh at our budget, me and my friends eventually found a  four-bedroom bungalow in West Acton (don’t ask me why, as capital newbies we had no idea where was cool). We should have known this was a bad idea when the letting agents made us transfer a £250 holding fee each, which we would lose if the contract fell through, but we naively thought this was normal.

We handed over an additional £2,500 deposit, and in we moved. The landlord lived next door with his family, and seemed very nice. All went well for the first few months, until some odd things started happening. He began to let his kids play in our garden. He would let himself in when we were at work to snoop around. One day my housemate came home from work early and his wife was roller-skating around our bungalow. I kid you not. Roller-skating.

A team of builders were tearing off our roof!

One day at 6am in the morning, we were woken up by a commotion. Turns out it was nothing to worry about… only a team of builders tearing off our roof. The landlord had decided to get our roof done without telling us, and had gone on holiday while the work was being done. Fantastic!

The builders were there for two weeks. They were lechy, pervy, rancid builders who would stare through our windows and wolf-whistle when we left the house. Sometimes they were there for 12 hours straight, mainly sitting in the garden drinking and staring, staring and drinking. It was AWFUL.

All I remember is the landlord threatening to call the police

Suffice to say we were very angry and we knew we were going to leave. We gave notice to the landlord, which my clever housemate Lauren got him to sign (this is a crucial point for later on).  So in the spirit of rebellion, we decided to have a massive fuck-off summer party. We invited all our friends, who also invited their friends, who also invited their friends. There was more booze than we could drink. We hired a bouncy castle. It was an EPIC PARTY.

Then the landlord turned up. I was quite drunk, so all I remember is the landlord waving the contracts around and threatening to call the police. He was aggressive and loud, and a not-so-nice argument kicked off. The party moved indoors and we assumed that would be the end of the matter. The next day we tidied up and sat down in a once again immaculate bungalow. We knew he’d be raging about the party and we thanked the gods we had handed our notice in. ‘Who cares!’ we thought, ‘we’re leaving anyway.’

WRONG. About a two weeks later I came home from work and my housemate Ella was sitting on the sofa looking ashen. She handed me a letter. The letter was from the landlord. The letter said:

I will be keeping your deposit of £2,500 to cover the damage you caused from your party. Following a previous inspection of the property I will be charging a further £3,000 to cover the damage you have caused during your tenancy.

Oh holy shit.

To be continued…

The post What happened when our landlord took all our money – Part One appeared first on Mouthy Money.