Bad Dreams
“The houses were well-maintained, nineteenth-century and 1930s flourishes kept in good nick by careful owners, but there was an overwhelming drabness to the buildings. In the twilight, the only real colour came from the bright estate agents’ notice boards posted outside almost every home. The whole street was for sale. This was an expensive part of town – upper upper middle and lower upper – and even the family cars parked in drives were high performance models. But the cracks were beginning to show. There was a stream of rubbish clogging the gutters, as if a parade had passed by with waste-paper substituting for tickertape. A few years ago, that would have been the mark of the scruffy Camden council, but now the rot was creeping into well-heeled Westminster. Even prosperity was not what it had been.
It was not Belgravia, but it was certainly well-off, thank you very much. Quite apart from the usual expenses, mortgages and service charges would be punitive around here. The media and en...trepreneur types attracted to the district were unlikely to be rich enough long enough to buy a permanent stake in the prestigious postcode.MoreLess
It was not Belgravia, but it was certainly well-off, thank you very much. Quite apart from the usual expenses, mortgages and service charges would be punitive around here. The media and en...trepreneur types attracted to the district were unlikely to be rich enough long enough to buy a permanent stake in the prestigious postcode.MoreLess
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