House-buying nightmare

I found the perfect house on the internet. In Camden, round the corner to my best friend. Housing association, four bedrooms, and I could buy a share and have cash left over for a rainy day. The estate agent was also the owner. It was part of his portfolio. I said I could have first crack at it as the agency knew me and I was a cash buyer. I saw it, opening my mouth to say, 'Yes, I'll take it,' when he said, 'Of course, you'll need time to think. I'll wait till I hear from you.' Like a fool, I thought this meant he wouldn't be showing it to anyone else till he heard from me.

I then had to go and meet my cousin from Wales, to hand over some treasured photos of his dad which I had found amongst my parents' things. His dad, my uncle, Selby died when he was 9 and then my cousin lost all his mementos of his father in a house fire. We went for coffee and a chat. Then I thought I had better ring the agent, but guess what? The email I'd printed out didn't have the phone number on it. By the time I got home, it was 6.30pm and the estate agency was closed.

I emailed, so the agent/owner would get it in the morning, but too late. He'd shown it to somebody who'd seen it after me, even though he'd said he preferred me as I was a cash buyer. He hadn't bothered to wait till he heard from me. I am completely gutted as that house was the answer to all my prayers. It was delapidated, it need new windows, new kitchen, stripping out and refurbishing and the garden was a wasteland as it had been rented out for years. But I would happily have done all that to be back in the swing of things and near my friend. Now what on earth am I going to do? I have to get out of Hillingdon or I shall go crazy! Hillingdon is all right for people who have friends and family there, but not for people who don't know a soul, as there is absolutely nothing to do, unless you want to do salsa dancin or join the church choir!