Grape Expectations Read Online Free
Author: Caro Feely, Caro
in this long negotiation process.
  'You won't believe this,' he said, 'the seller just called and they have accepted another offer. A third party offered three thousand more than you, they are taking the offer and they don't want a counter offer from you. They don't want a price war.'
  I felt like a jilted lover. After putting our hearts and souls into the business plan it was even more personal. We had shared our dream with the decision makers. 'What can we do?' I said eventually.
  'Nothing right now. I told them you would match the offer but they were adamant they didn't want to hear it. We're going to try to influence the decision through the mandatory liquidator and SAFER. The other party is a retired couple who want it for a holiday house and will sell off the vines.'
  I didn't need any more information, I hated them already. They were stealing our dream to turn it into a retirement house. I felt like vomiting.
  'Patrick, we can't go much higher. The place needs a lot of work. You saw the architect's estimate: â¬50,000 to make the house liveable. There's serious investment required in the vineyard and winery. One minute we have the property, the next minute we don't. One day it's the mandatory liquidator making the decision, the next it's the owners; one day they can't take a gazumping offer, the next they can. The uncertainty is killing me. I am not sure how much more of this I can take.'
  'I know, Caro. This is a very difficult transaction but the property is a great buy. If this doesn't work then I think it will be time to walk away.'
  I hung up feeling nauseous and texted Sean. For the sellers to refuse more money when they were in financial trouble didn't make sense. Ellie gave me a huge smile and latched onto my breast, blissfully oblivious to the turmoil in our lives.
Chapter 2
Goodbye Pay Cheques,
Hello Château
'Good morning, Caro. How are you today?' said Patrick chirpily. 'The other offer has gone away and the seller wants to accept your initial offer.'
  'What happened?' I asked, feeling a cautious prickle of elation.
  'Well, the offer was never formalised. Perhaps there was persuasion by Sa Furr. Our agent will get a promesse de vente signed by the seller this afternoon so that they can't change their minds again.'
  I texted Sean then tried to contact the notaire . After calling seven times I spoke to him. He assured me our verbal offer was accepted and he would call me back later in the day to arrange a formal signing. It looked like it was really going to happen.
  I caught Sean on a break from his French class and filled him in on the final episode of our limbo nightmare, ending with the notaire who still had not called me back to arrange the formal signing.
  'I am sure this notaire is doing something funny. Maybe his brother is trying to buy the vineyard.'
  Sean laughed and told me I was paranoid then went back to the calm of his class. By the evening, the import of the acceptance had sunk in and I felt like I had jumped out of a plane without a parachute.
  Fortunately a safety net was developing: the bidding on the house we were selling went beyond our agent's estimate. We closed the sale with a critical boost to our budget. We knew from reading about moves to France that the rule of thumb was to double your renovation estimate. We would learn that even this was not enough.
  At last we could talk about our move. In jubilance, I called an old friend in Oxford.
  'Saucy Jack?' said Mike.
  'Not Saucy Jack. Saussignac. It's famous for its wines. Haven't you heard of it?'
  'No. We'll have to come and try it.'
  No one had heard of the wine appellations Saussignac and Bergerac but it was too late to change our minds. A signed copy of the contract to purchase arrived. It was accompanied by a letter stating that a previous owner, Monsieur Battistella, was
  'You won't believe this,' he said, 'the seller just called and they have accepted another offer. A third party offered three thousand more than you, they are taking the offer and they don't want a counter offer from you. They don't want a price war.'
  I felt like a jilted lover. After putting our hearts and souls into the business plan it was even more personal. We had shared our dream with the decision makers. 'What can we do?' I said eventually.
  'Nothing right now. I told them you would match the offer but they were adamant they didn't want to hear it. We're going to try to influence the decision through the mandatory liquidator and SAFER. The other party is a retired couple who want it for a holiday house and will sell off the vines.'
  I didn't need any more information, I hated them already. They were stealing our dream to turn it into a retirement house. I felt like vomiting.
  'Patrick, we can't go much higher. The place needs a lot of work. You saw the architect's estimate: â¬50,000 to make the house liveable. There's serious investment required in the vineyard and winery. One minute we have the property, the next minute we don't. One day it's the mandatory liquidator making the decision, the next it's the owners; one day they can't take a gazumping offer, the next they can. The uncertainty is killing me. I am not sure how much more of this I can take.'
  'I know, Caro. This is a very difficult transaction but the property is a great buy. If this doesn't work then I think it will be time to walk away.'
  I hung up feeling nauseous and texted Sean. For the sellers to refuse more money when they were in financial trouble didn't make sense. Ellie gave me a huge smile and latched onto my breast, blissfully oblivious to the turmoil in our lives.
Chapter 2
Goodbye Pay Cheques,
Hello Château
'Good morning, Caro. How are you today?' said Patrick chirpily. 'The other offer has gone away and the seller wants to accept your initial offer.'
  'What happened?' I asked, feeling a cautious prickle of elation.
  'Well, the offer was never formalised. Perhaps there was persuasion by Sa Furr. Our agent will get a promesse de vente signed by the seller this afternoon so that they can't change their minds again.'
  I texted Sean then tried to contact the notaire . After calling seven times I spoke to him. He assured me our verbal offer was accepted and he would call me back later in the day to arrange a formal signing. It looked like it was really going to happen.
  I caught Sean on a break from his French class and filled him in on the final episode of our limbo nightmare, ending with the notaire who still had not called me back to arrange the formal signing.
  'I am sure this notaire is doing something funny. Maybe his brother is trying to buy the vineyard.'
  Sean laughed and told me I was paranoid then went back to the calm of his class. By the evening, the import of the acceptance had sunk in and I felt like I had jumped out of a plane without a parachute.
  Fortunately a safety net was developing: the bidding on the house we were selling went beyond our agent's estimate. We closed the sale with a critical boost to our budget. We knew from reading about moves to France that the rule of thumb was to double your renovation estimate. We would learn that even this was not enough.
  At last we could talk about our move. In jubilance, I called an old friend in Oxford.
  'Saucy Jack?' said Mike.
  'Not Saucy Jack. Saussignac. It's famous for its wines. Haven't you heard of it?'
  'No. We'll have to come and try it.'
  No one had heard of the wine appellations Saussignac and Bergerac but it was too late to change our minds. A signed copy of the contract to purchase arrived. It was accompanied by a letter stating that a previous owner, Monsieur Battistella, was
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