Location, location, location was dejection, dejection, dejection

Linda Ewles wrote in November how she'd taken on the buyers from the Channel 4 home-buying show, and won. Now, she wonders, where did it all go wrong?

On 7 September we sold our converted stables in Somerset – 12 miles from Bristol – through Channel 4's Location, Location, Location, a fun but nerve-racking process (The Independent, 16 November 2002).

We'd been overjoyed – our buyers had a short "ready to proceed" chain behind them, and we had a house lined up in Bristol with owners planning to move into rented accommodation. It couldn't be better – or so we thought. We hadn't learnt yet that finding your buyer is not the same as selling your house.

We went to "our" new house to measure the rooms and came out hugging ourselves. We tried hard not to tempt fate. We forced ourselves to say "if we move into our new house" not "when we move..." We resisted making room plans and buying wardrobes in Ikea.

I'm not superstitious – really I'm not. I walk under ladders and I've got two science degrees – but it occurred to me that the 7th was a good date. We'd found 'our' new house on 7 August, and found our buyers on 7 September. Maybe we'd exchange on 7 October?

But 7 October passed. We started worrying. When we thought we were nearly there, our buyer's solicitor would find something else to dig into such as a small patch of damp ("What do you expect in a house 150 years old? I wouldn't bother about it if it was me," said the damp expert). Then there was the flying freehold (part of one upstairs room is built over the neighbour's kitchen) and a mistake about boundaries in the Land Registry plans which meant that, bizarrely, a neighbour owned a tiny patch of land in our back garden. Weeks ticked by, but all the issues were resolved.

Maybe we'd exchange on 7 November? We still resisted making room plans, but I did pot up a few plants I wanted to take with us and I bought a small bag of wild bird feed instead of the usual big sack.

Big mistake. Fate was tempted. Our buyers rang to say their buyers wouldn't be buying after all. They'd decided to rent instead. No amount of pleading, or offers to pay for the rental deposit, prevailed. The chain was broken.

Our buyers' estate agent worked his socks off trying to re-sell their house. We consoled ourselves that we still had our buyers and so far the vendors of "our" house in Bristol hadn't put it back on the market. But then came a heart-sinking phone call – our vendors really needed to move and couldn't wait for us indefinitely. If we didn't exchange by the new year, they'd have to rent it out.

On 20 November, we dismally turned on the telly to watch 'our' episode of Location, Location, Location. There was our converted stables in glorious late summer sunshine, with Kirstie chirruping about how our buyers "have to be out of their house in six weeks" and there were our buyers, ecstatically embracing Phil when we'd accepted their offer. What would the "update" slot say at the end of the programme, we wondered? In upbeat style Kirstie declared that our buyers "will soon move into the stables and start their new life there". We groaned.

It got worse. The vendors of "our" house in Bristol put it back on the market in a final attempt to make a fast sale. Reluctantly, we too put our house back on the market. So now it was a race – would we or our buyers get a Christmas miracle in the shape of a cash buyer to exchange with before Christmas? Or would someone else snap up "our" house in Bristol before we found a buyer?

I filled a tub with pansies which would be at their best next spring, and bought a huge sack of wild bird food – I wasn't going to tempt fate again.

Prospective buyers viewed our house. I began to understand what estate agents mean when they talk of 'serious buyers'. It's not people who don't laugh at jokes – they mean buyers who really intend to buy. Not like the couple who complained that they'd sold their house 'too fast' – they hadn't had time to look round enough houses yet but they really liked ours and could they come back with their grown-up family the next day? We never saw them again. Christmas approached. Our original buyers were losing heart. Dear Santa, I said to the chimney, all I want for Christmas is someone to buy our house quickly.

But Santa and the Pudding Fairy both let me down. At New Year, I made resolutions. I will not get excited and hopeful every time possible buyers come to view. I will not get disappointed when they don't make an offer. I will not count a single chicken before we exchange contracts. I will simply get on with life and let the house move take its own course in the background. I will be so laid back I'll be horizontal.

A few days into January, our buyers – the couple who featured in Location Location Location – gave up and formally withdrew their offer. Then the dreaded phone call came – the vendors of "our" house in Bristol accepted another offer from someone "ready to proceed". We'd lost it after five months of waiting and hoping. The New Year's resolution about horizontal attitude vanished under the impact of this double whammy.

So we're back to square one. I've spent hours on the net and the phone trawling estate agents in Bristol. We're going to view a house tomorrow. It looks perfect for us and the house number is 13 – so that has to be a perverse good omen, doesn't it? And the estate agent's just rung. Another family wants to view. I've worked out that this will be the seventh viewing since we went back on the market – so maybe this time...?

Any offers? Please ring our estate agent CJ Hole on 01275 333433.