I paced backwards and forwards across the living room, chewing on my fingernail.
‘Oh, my god,’ Jeanine eventually burst out. ‘Can you please sit down?’
‘Oh, sorry,’ I murmured, still pacing.
‘Can you sit, please?’
‘Oh, right,’ I said, forcing myself into my grandpa’s old rocking chair. I began to rock back and forwards in it, the wood creaking underneath me. Jeanine rolled her eyes and stood up, lunging forwards to catch the chair and stop it from rocking.
‘What’s the matter with you?’ she asked, her frowning face close to mine.
‘No, the other person I’m glaring at from six inches away. Of course with you.’
‘Nothing,’ I grinned nervously.
She arched an eyebrow.
‘I guess I’m nervous about the house,’ I admitted. ‘I don’t know if we’re gonna get it or not.’
‘Take a deep breath,’ she said, with an understanding smile. ‘We’ll get it.’
Her phone buzzed and she looked down at it with a frown.
‘What is it?’ I asked.
‘We didn’t get it.’
‘Dammit,’ I groaned. ‘I knew it! Do you think we need to look into a buyers advocate close to Brighton?’
‘A buyer’s advocate?’ she asked. ‘I don’t even know what that is.’
‘They negotiate on your behalf,’ I explained. ‘So you get a good price and a better chance at actually walking away with the house.’
‘You can’t walk away with—’
‘It’s a metaphor, Jeanine,’ I rolled my eyes.
‘Right. Why Brighton though? Why not organise a buyers agent specialising in Hawthorn properties as well?’
‘Advocate,’ I corrected her, ‘and we can. We should.’
She nodded, punching something into her phone.
‘Interesting,’ she mused to herself.
‘Did you find one already?’ I asked, curious.
‘What’s that?’ she looked up, confused. ‘Oh no, I was checking something else.’
She turned the phone towards me with a smile. ‘They are called buyer’s agents too.’