Assume The Location

I'm not sure if you need to know this or not, but just in case, this story is sort of based in a "please don't sue me" way on the characters "Kirstie and Phil" who front ITN-4's Location Location Location and Relocation Relocation in the UK and ROI. It's more about me having a friend named Philip and me being named Kirsten than a direct parody of Ms Allsopp and Mr Spencer, who, incidentally, I think are tres chic and I love their show. Kirstie, if you read this, the fact that you have a lovely boyfriend, your own baby, a million pound propery portfolio, a pretty smile and a wicked laugh, and you're a year younger than me makes me very proud to share a name with you. No offence is intended.

“On the market at just £295,950 this comes in at almost 50 grand under budget.” James held the gaze of the camera for a further three seconds before the location manager waved ‘cut’. “I’ve got to tell you Louisa, I’d buy this place myself at that price, and I’m half hoping that Phil turns it down.” Louisa walked across to join her onscreen partner as he turned to look back at the house.

“I’ve a good mind to do that myself. I tell you what; if Phil says no to this one then we shall pick it up ourselves. Then I’ll toss you for it.”

“As delightful as that offer sounds; I’d rather we just flipped a coin.”

Louisa collapsed into a fit of naughty giggles, “you’re a wicked man James, but that’s why I like you.”

James and Louisa had been fronting UKBC’s property programme for three years and had become quite close. They were known as a pairing, everyone in the country knew who “James and Louisa” were, even those didn’t watch their free-to-air programme Assume The Location, or the satellite programme Resume The Location which went back to properties twelve months after Assume had been there to check the progress of the resettlement. James and Louisa had travelled widely across every nation of the United Kingdom, including the Republic of Ireland, and had visited Spain, Portugal and Malta in recent weeks. This week’s couple were somewhat more of a challenge though, with the couple looking at buying a house actually business partners rather than marital or life-partners. James had been dispatched to work with the man, Philip J; a retired professional golfer who still had a handicap of just three; while Louisa had been assigned to look after Kirsten E, an ex-high school teacher turned full time Romance Novelist. Phil was looking for an investment property; Kirstie was looking for the same, but intended to take up residence in the property for at least twelve months while she worked on her newest two novels. This was causing some tension.

“I think Phil would be mad to pass up on this, but…”

“…but Kirstie won’t have a bar of it as there’s no sea view from the south-facing windows on the top floor.” James and Louisa turned away from the house and began to walk back to the truck.

“Yes. This strikes me as odd, as there is a brilliant flash of beach from the North-West windows, and it’s shaded rather than sunny which would make it much more pleasant in this climate.”

“Kirstie definitely said she wanted a sunny room with a sea-view in which to write.”

“Why so desperate about the sun…mind the dog turd there…is she a reverse-vampiress or something?”

Louisa laughed, “no, it’s much worse than that, she’s an Australian.”

James turned to her with genuine concern and placed a hand upon Louisa’s shoulder. “You’re such a brave girl, God go with you.”

Two days later and the foursome were back at the house, James and Louisa leading the way first and then allowing Phil and Kirstie a free roam of the house while James and Louisa listened to their conversation via lapel mikes and headsets.

“Kirstie, what do you think?”

“Well Phil, first impression says lovely, but I really do want a sea view with sunshine and this house offers those as separate commodities. It’s a lovely bedroom though.”

“It is actually, that’s the first thing I saw,” added Louisa out in the garden. James nodded.

“Okay, but let’s look at it as an investment. Can’t you see this increasing in value markedly over the next five years?”

“Entirely so, and it’s a great price now so it will make us even more of a margin when we come to sell it.”

“But it doesn’t constitute the writer’s garret you were hoping for.”

“No, I’m sorry Phil it just doesn’t. I mean if I can’t have the place I want then I may as well remain in the UK. I know I’m being difficult, but the whole point of spending two years on the Costa del Pom is to get some sun back in my life. I don’t really miss my family at home, but I miss home itself: the sun and the relaxed lifestyle of those who live in the sun.”

“Even in Tasmania?”

“Even in Tasmania Phil.”

“She’s not going to budge,” James warned. “You know Louisa; we might just have found our new investment.”

“Sssh James, you know we’re miked up! We can’t be saying that on air.”

“Shit, fuck, bollocks, dick, knob!”

“What on earth are you doing?”

“Swearing, then they can’t use this audio on the television.”

“Ohh James, you’re such a well-hung clever wanker.”

“Thanks Louisa; you’ve got a great arse, ideal for spanking.”

“That’s enough now James.”

But James was genuine.

“Okay, then let’s leave writing out of it for the moment, if that’s okay, and look at it as a functional house. You’re almost British…”

“Thank you.”

“…but you have an Australasian passion for fun and sun. Could such a person as you, minus the need to sit typing all day, enjoy a place like this?”

“Ah, lifestyle angle on potential purchase/rental. Let’s take a look shall we.”

“Come Louisa, let’s join them.”

The four met again in the kitchen, the women sitting on tall stools at the breakfast bar while the men walked across to the floor-to-ceiling sliding glass doors to look across the patio to the Mediterranean Sea at the foot of the garden.

“Louisa, what sorts of things come with the house?”

“Such as?”

“Well would Phil and I be buying an entirely empty house, I mean we aren’t together so we’d not be moving our own furniture in or anything.”

“All the furniture you see here comes with the house. Chairs, benches, curtains and rugs, white-goods. Obviously things like crockery and so forth would need to be purchased, but the major substance of the home is as you see it.”

“Hmm. What do you think about it?”

“About what?”

“The house, do you like it.”

“It’s okay, just okay.”

Kirstie stood up, turned the stool to face her, and bent forwards to put her hands flat upon the seat. She turned her head towards the left and looked back along the form of her body. Satisfied with the shape she muttered something incomprehensible and went around the other side of the bench and into the kitchen. Across the room James was looking out of the window and telling Phil about the golf club being constructed on the other side of the small village at the end of the road, Pueblo de los Muertes Inglesas, but Phil was watching Kirstie out of the side of his gaze and trying hard not to laugh. He satisfied himself to see that whilst there was no sound being recorded, the cameras were still rolling to take stock film to be voiced-over later. He baulked as Kirstie placed her elbows and forearms on the bench itself and mouthed “nice angle” before again looking back over her shoulder at her shape.

“Everything okay Kirstie?” asked Louisa.

“Yes thank you Louisa, just checking the workspace for function. Will I be having those sofa-chairs and sofa as well?” Kirstie was pointing across the open-plan dining area and into what Louisa called the parlour.

“Yes Kirstie, you get those too.”

“Mind if we check them out?”

“Not at all, let’s have a seat.”

Kirstie smiled across at Phil, “that wasn’t entirely what I had in mind.”

“Later, young lady,” he replied.

In a slightly louder voice Kirstie asked Phil if he would assist her in assessing the quality of the chairs, for function. Phil raised an eyebrow, then turned and followed the women into the dining and seating area in response to Kirstie’s slight nod.

Phil was sitting on one of the dark, thickly padded chairs that accompanied the mahogany dining table. Kirstie stood next to him, ever-so-slightly too close to his right hand side and at a 90 degree angle so that she was looking straight into his profile, if from slightly above. “What do you think of these chairs Philip?”

“They seem very comfortable Kirsten.”

“And are they supportive, Philip?”

“They appear to be, Kirsten.”

“And Philip, are they balanced, or will they tip over easily?”

“No Kirsten, they appear quite substantial.”

“How substantial Philip?”

“These chairs are quite substantial enough, Kirsten.”

“And at the end of a long, session, of say, dining, Philip. Are they well upholstered?”

Phil smiled, “they’re quite well padded, Kirsten.”

Kirstie smiled back. “Lovely. Philip. That’s lovely to know. My, doesn’t that sofa have rather wide arms?”

James and Louisa smiled towards the camera, they were going to lose the house themselves, but Phil and Kirstie were making great television.

“Shall we look at the garden area now James, I think I saw a rather large woodshed down there?” asked Louisa.

“Yes, good idea,” offered the lighting technician to the director, “get some good open-air shots.”

“Good one Louisa,” replied James, “but I wouldn’t think it’s a woodshed. More likely a boatshed, they have other ways of warming up in winter in Spain than using wood.”

“I don’t know, I’ve always found the woodshed to be most warming,” whispered Kirstie to Phil as the television crew and their hosts headed across towards the door. Unseen by the crew, Phil delivered a hard swat to the back of Kirstie’s skirt.

“Not only fire, there are other ways of getting warm.”

“Eek!” said Kirstie. “Shall we go see the woodshed, Philip?”

Following the boatshed, and some pieces to camera involving James and Kirstie, Louisa and Phil, and James and Louisa, Kirstie and Phil were sent off into the house again with microphones but without cameras. Kirstie had wanted a final look at the upstairs room where she had hoped to write, and with the sun in its optimum mid-afternoon position she would be able to see the intensity of light in both that room and the one with the landwards facing but sunny room.

“I didn’t think it would be so hard to find a window facing both the south, and the sea, along the Costa del Pom, the entire coast faces south. How is it possible?” Kirstie was puzzled.

“We’re on a peninsular that curls around, a bit like an arm. That’s why the bay is so calm, but it does put the sun in the north.”

“Just like home.”

“Are you shifting in your opinion of this place then Kirstie?”

“I want to see how those two upstairs rooms work for me, whether they are suitable for function. Will you be available to assist?”

“If it means I can convince you to buy this property with me then of course.”

“And if I don’t agree to buy this property with you?”

Phil smiled, “then I’m even happier to assist you, Kirstie.”

“Race you to the top.”

The sound man was puzzled. Very puzzled. Following Phil and Kirstie’s entry to the first room, the one that overlooked the garden and the beach but was therefore in the shade, neither of them had said a word. However, Kirstie’s microphone was making an odd muffled sound, as if it were being dragged across a carpet, and Phil’s microphone was picking up quiet but indistinct discussion and a noise he could only describe, technically, as “doof”. It was as if Phil had removed his jacket, hung it over the back of a chair, and then walked over to the other side of the room to drag Kirstie face-down around the floor. James had gone over to assist with determining the nature of the recording difficulties. Louisa sat alone in the garden with her hands clasped neatly in her lap, and, certain that there were no cameras on her and her microphone was switched off in her back pocket, giggled. She had seen exactly what Kirstie had been doing in the kitchen, had understood the nature of her discussion with ‘Philip’ about the upholstered dining and sofa setting, and had a fair idea of why Kirstie was face down on the opposite side of the room from Phil’s abandoned jacket. She offered to go up and check on the couple upstairs, the men, distracted by their technical difficulties, agreed without much interest. She quietly entered the house and all-but tiptoed upstairs. The sound was indeed coming from the room over-looking the garden.

WHACK

“Oooh.”

WHACK

“Oooh.”

Louisa peered carefully around the door. It was as she had expected. Phil was sitting on the edge of the double bed, facing out through the floor-to-ceiling bay-windows. His jacket was thrown casually over the seat of a stool which stood in front of a make-up and dressing table. Kirstie was across his knees and appeared to have her skirt flipped up.

WHACK

“Oooh.”

“So, do you think it’s worth buying?”

“Philip I’m just not…”

WHACK

“Oooh Hoo. I’m not sure.”

“Well it is worth buying, you know that as well as I do. But you’re holding out because you don’t want to live here.” Phil laid his hand gently on Kirstie’s upturned bottom. Kirstie sighed.

“Yes that’s it, you know it is.”

“So how can I…”

WHACK

“…convince you?”

“Well, not like this.”

“Really?”

WHACK WHACK WHACK WHACK

“Ouch! Bastard! I said not like this: be nice to me.”

Phil rubbed Kirstie’s bottom soothingly.

“Far more convincing.”

“This would be easier if you had pulled your knickers down.”

“Deal with the difficulty.” Kirstie rolled across Phil’s lap and sat up on the bed next to him.

Louisa stifled a laugh.

“Tears Kirstie, were you crying?”

“You do hit rather hard.”

“I’m sorry.”

“No you aren’t.”

“Mm, true.”

They both smiled.

“So, what do you think Miss E?”

“Well, Mr J, I think you’re right. So, how about we ask Louisa to come right into the room instead of peeking though the doorway, you can give her a good hiding of her own, and then let’s go buy a house together.”

They shook hands, and then Kirstie threw her arms around Phil’s neck and pecked him on the cheek.

“Sorry I made you wait.”

“It was worth putting in the extra effort to seal the deal Miss E. So, are you going to come in like a good girl Louisa or do I need to come and fetch you?”

Louisa stepped into the room, paused at Phil’s jacket to switch off his microphone, and walked over to the bed with a sheepish grin. “Phil, I’ve only just arrived.”

“Before or after Kirstie sat up?”

“Before.”

“Then I think you owe her an apology.”

“Or perhaps she could be the one to give me the spanking?”

Kirstie laughed. “We weren’t serious about that Louisa.”

“I was,” interjected Phil.

“Deal with the difficulty,” snapped back Louisa. “No I think it would be fun Kirstie. Can we use this stool though?” She pointed towards the stool where Phil’s jacket lay.

“Well if you’re sure,” offered Kirstie, “you’d better give Mr J his jacket, you don’t want to know what will happen if that gets creased.”

Kirstie walked around the room and sat on the stool with a wince.

“Are you okay?”

“A bit sore down-under.”

“The consequences of being a naughty Australian girl,” offered Phil.

“Louisa?” Kirstie raised her hands to allow Louisa to slip across the upturned knees. “Ready?”

Louisa thought back, yes she had turned off her microphone, and Phil’s as she came past the stool. He was still sitting on the bed across the room from her and with the jacket folded in his lap she knew any sounds would be muffled anyway. No-one would know.

“Ready Kirstie.”

“May I?” Kirstie fingered the hem of Louisa’s sundress.

“Only the dress, right?”

“Yes.” Kirstie folded back Louisa’s skirt and adjusted her own hips to raise the faded flesh-coloured knickers into a better position.

“Costume budget not extend to new undies then?” Kirstie asked.

“No, it’s best under lighting to have flesh-coloured knickers for this colour dress anyway.”

“I hope you have some pink knickers in the van then,” laughed Phil.

“Do you deserve a spanking, Louisa?”

“Yes Kirstie.”

WHACK

“Ouch!”

“And why do you deserve a spanking Louisa?”

“I’ve been very naughty.”

WHACK

WHACK

“Ahh-haa-aah. Ouch!”

“What sort of naughty?”

“Just naughty naughty.”

WHACK

WHACK

“Ouch Kirstie!”

WHACK

“And shall you be naughty again?”

“Probably.”

WHACK

WHACK

“Ahh-haa-ahh.”

“Wanna try that answer again?”

“I shall try not to be naughty.”

WHACK

“Ouch.”

“How hard shall you try, Louisa?”

“Very hard.”

WHACK

WHACK

“That hard?”

“Oh god yes. Please.”

WHACK

Louisa began crying.

“I didn’t hit you that hard,” muttered Kirstie, “you should be on the end of what Phil just dished out.”

“I’m sorry.”

WHACK

WHACK

WHACK

WHACK

“Oh please Kirstie, that’s enough.”

“Have you learned your lesson, Louisa?”

“Ooh, yes Kirstie.”

“And will you be a good girl in future?”

“Yes.”

“And will you need to be spanked again soon?”

“I hope not Kirstie.”

WHACK

“Stand up.”

As Louisa stood up she was able to see out of the window for the first time, and remembered with horror that whilst she had indeed turned off Phil and her own microphones, she’d forgotten about Kirstie’s. The sight of the telephoto lens on the camera in the garden, pointed straight up at her was enough for her to know that she’d been caught.

“Did you get that?” asked James.

“Yep, it’s amazing what a zoom lens can do, and that microphone problem seemed to have cleaned up nicely. It looks like you’ve lost the house mate, I’m sorry.”

James smiled, “but we got some great television, some great television.”