Imagine the scene. It is the mid-2000's, and property prices in Britain are rocketing (as usual), and I'm viewing a property, and in conversation with an estate agent.
This is part of that conversation.
“Well, a garden would be ideal,” I said. “It’s just a bit small, more of a patio, with a bit of grass.”
Charles leaned back, full of property-market wisdom and self-assurance.
“But it would be your garden. And it wouldn’t need much work to keep it in order. Gardens add value. If you want one at this price level, this is the best you’ll find.”
He was right. Gardens did add value, but I saw the “value” as more than just money. I don’t think Charles did. And this one had already added a little too much monetary value, for me, anyway.
“I don’t think I can afford it,” I said. “The salary multiples don’t work. I might need to win the lottery.”
“Yes, the lottery! I won the lottery once, just ten pounds. I make a lot more selling houses.” He laughed.
And that’s when the conversation took a turn.
“There is one possibility,” he said. “Have you heard of a self-certification mortgage? They are quite popular at the moment.”
I had. In fact, I watched a documentary about them. They were being handed out to people that they weren’t designed for, most likely fuelling the very property boom Charles was profiting from.
“You basically fill out the form, write down your income, we send it to the bank, and it all goes through,” he explained.
“But I don’t earn enough.”
“Well,” he said, lowering his voice a little, “you just have to be a little creative in the numbers.” He smiled. “Lots of people are doing it. The banks don’t check. It always comes back approved.”
“Really?” I said, pretending to be shocked.
“Then we’ll celebrate with a bottle of champagne. You’ll be on the property ladder. And you’ll have your own little show garden.”
I went back to my rented ‘granny flat’ with the form. I never filled it in.
I’m not sure whether I made the right decision, because I’ve been renting ever since, but my conscience won that round. The cost is that I’m now serving a life sentence in the rent trap. I doubt that I will ever “own” my own home, or garden.
I’m sure Champagne Charley found someone else to share the bubbly with.
Crash, Bang, Wallop
Two years later, the financial crisis arrived with a thud. It was 2008, and the good times that supposedly would never end crashed almost overnight. As banks collapsed, the UK government stepped in to rescue the likes of HBOS, Barclays, and others. The same happened across the world. Suddenly, trillions of pounds, dollars, yen and euros, were found to bail them out.
Naughty bankers. Here’s more money, said the government, don’t do it again.
By 2009, self-certification mortgages, which were given the name “liar loans” in the USA, were banned...
Image by Martin Bradshaw, 2026
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