2 weeks Ago By Evening Standard
Jessica Regan was in Scotland over the summer performing a one-woman show at the Edinburgh Fringe when she received a surprise call from her landlord. The news was not good. He was selling the house she had called home for six years and she needed to start packing her bags.
The timing was particularly ironic since Jessica’s show, , is about the highs and lows of two decades spent renting in London. “I am currently without a postcode,” said Jessica. Her renting life began when she moved from her native Ireland to a shared house in Acton back in 2004 to take up a coveted place at the Royal Academy of Dramatic Art.
“It was my second time in London – the first was my audition,” said Jessica. “I was a green shoot of grass.” Over the years Jessica has had well over 20 flatmates, got to know north, south, east, and west London intimately, made many great friends, dealt with damp, , and rodent infestations, and encountered her fair share of grasping landlords and “devilish” estate agents.
During that time Jessica has also built a career– she was a series regular on the BBC’s Doctors and has appeared on shows including Ill Behaviour, Call The Midwife, and Peep Show. In the same timeframe house prices have increased by more than 500 per cent, but wages by less than six per cent, meaning that buying a place of her own is out of the question. The Walthamstow house she lived in was bought in 1996 for £65,000.
When her landlord put it up for sale the increasing popularity of E17 meant that it was listed for offers over £615,000. “It is obscene,” said Jessica, now 42. “I have no hope of buying as a freelancer, even though I have absolutely achieved what I wanted to in my chosen profession.
It feels like the city is forcing me out.” Jessica’s enforced relocation has happened at a time of unprecedented pressure on London’s rental markets. by almost ten per cent in the year to September, according to the Office of National Statistics, after years of sustained price growth following the pandemic.
Supply of homes is so short that renters need to make offers on properties they’ve not even viewed, and to offer above asking rents to compete. “I was cocooned while I was in Walthamstow, and I didn’t realise things were getting so crazy,” said Jessica. Unable to face joining the scrum for a new home right away she is now staying with friends in King’s Cross, interspersed with visits home to family in Ireland, and will start hunting for a new postcode in the new year.
Sadly high housing costs drive tens of thousands of Londoners out of the city every year – in the first half of 2024 alone estate agents Hamptons reported that more than 76,000 Londoners had quit the city. “My worry is that London will become this beige place, without all the spectrums of humanity living alongside each other,” said Jessica. “I know I am privileged to have an amazing community of family and friends – I won’t be sleeping rough – and I am feeling defiant.
I have built exactly the life I was hoping to build in London and I’m not leaving.” In the time she has spent packing her bags and moving from one rental to another Jessica has learned a thing or two about how to survive London’s rental scene. These are her key takeaways: Over the years Jessica’s flatmates have included a young man suffering a psychotic break (she barricaded herself into her bedroom at night to feel safe).
Often the problems weren’t the flatmates themselves but their hangers-on –guests and partners who stole food and didn’t clean up their own mess. “You have to have zero tolerance for anything which makes you feel unsafe,” she said. For less serious niggles her advice is to tackle problems head on not with passive aggressive post-its.
“I believe in giving people one or two chances. Then I think you should be direct about problems. Don’t leave notes.
Communicate with them about what is happening, and be aware that you all have to show consideration to each other.” Jessica has also learned to select flatmates who live a full and fulfilling life. “If they spend all day on the sofa they will drag you down,” she said.
Moving around London for years has given Jessica a free education into its secret gems. “You can take me to pretty much any tube station and I will know where to find the good, cheap Italian nearby or the secret whiskey bar,” said Jessica. “I have an intimate knowledge of the city.
“ Another benefit of constant movement is that Jessica is a brilliant declutterer, expert packer, and doesn’t set excessive store in material possessions. “It makes you mindful about what you buy, and aware of how little you need,” she said. Until the point at which he gave her notice Jessica was pretty happy with her Walthamstow landlord.
The house was a little shabby but the rent was reasonable and she and her housemate had years of stability there. “My first landlord was also my worst, it was a baptism of fire,” said Jessica of her Acton rental. “I had to pay him six weeks’ rent as a deposit and when I moved out he just said he wasn’t giving it back.
The house was better than when I moved in, there was no reason. “This was before the Government’s deposit schemes, so I had a face-off with him and I used my acting skills. I told him my father was a solicitor – he’s actually a retired civil servant – and I’d been holding him off but he couldn’t wait to come over and take a look at his business in detail.
A cheque was written the next day.” They regularly feature in lists of most-hated professionals and while not all estate agents are the same, some will try and con you every which way. “Estate agents can be the devil,” said Jessica.
Her worst experience was when moving out of a flat in west London she had been sharing with a boyfriend. “We had heard a couple was moving in and we decided to buy them a bottle of wine and a card wishing them luck,” she said. “It was a karmic thing.
” Sweet? The estate agent didn’t think so. “We got an invoice charging us £65 for items left behind in the flat,” said Jessica..
