Confessions of an Estate Agent: 'A dead squirrel scuppered the deal'

Tim Hassell, director of short lets at Foxtons, London

"Taking prospective tenants to view a property is always a delicate operation. The smallest things can affect whether they decide to rent a house or not. Once, I was taking a very nervous, elderly French couple to see a flat in Paultons Square, in Chelsea. They were not very city-orientated and I drove them to the property in my Volkswagen.

"They were being very sweet and I was looking after them, impressing them with my broken French. We were getting on brilliantly. The property was on a square with a garden in its centre – the couple were suitably impressed. Just as we approached the property, a small squirrel ran out into the road in front of the car. The couple cooed. I slowed down to about five miles an hour to give the cute little creature a chance to scuttle away. Unfortunately, it didn't take the opportunity, and I ran it over. It made a rather distressing "popping" sound as I did so.

"The French couple looked at me wide-eyed. I looked at them. They were clearly horrified. I showed them around the flat, which was lovely, but their minds were clearly still on the newly departed squirrel and not the merits of the kitchen. They barely spoke and, needless to say, they didn't take the flat.

"Another time, I was showing a very well-known actor around a beautiful flat in Cornwall Gardens. It was an ornate London pad with a weekly rent of £2,500. It had a 30ft reception room and an enormous fireplace. I'm six-foot-five and the mantlepiece was head-height.

"At one point in the viewing, the landlady went into the kitchen and the actor – who doesn't want to be named – decided to try and turn on the fire. I was rather wowed by this man's celebrity, so I just said yes to whatever he wanted. It was a coal-effect gas fire and he lit a match and put his hand right to the back to try and get it to catch. Of course, you're supposed to light those things at the front and, when the flames suddenly started leaping, the actor sprang back, having burnt all the hairs off his hand.

"At this point, the landlady came back into the room, smelt the air and looked at the actor in a concerned fashion. He studied the wall. I realised that to save the viewing, I had to take the fall for him. 'Are you all right?' she said. 'Yes, I'm fine,' I said, quickly shoving my hand into my pocket. His reputation intact, the actor agreed to take the flat.

Foxtons, 020-7893 6040