Rihanna shines like a diamond. My clients don't always

Does my client believe it projects a subliminal message? In that playing the song, she’ll dazzle like a diamond? I’m not sure

‘Shine bright like a diamond, we’re beautiful like diamonds in the sky’: this Rihanna song is installed in my head as a new client plays it every time we get into the car between viewings – and we’ve seen a lot of properties. (Watch the song below)

I’m suffering from a form of Stockholm Syndrome, submitting myself – via repetitive overload – to the truth that this may be one of the greatest pop songs ever. Does my client believe it projects a subliminal message? In that playing the song, she’ll dazzle like a diamond? I’m not sure.

Enough, though, for now on the power of music at any volume, for the two clients I wrote of last week remain staunchly silent. I determine not to badger them but the deals potentially on the table represent too much work and reflected commission not to courteously nudge them.

Thankfully, in the wake of their silence, we’ve agreed a deal on behalf of a more loquacious client. We’ve clambered the assault course of lease extensions, cost divisions of future building works, planning applications and the most artful price negotiations.

The seller believes – like so many do – that their property should be achieving the record price in the area (in this case Chelsea). The buyer (who I’m acting for) understandably isn’t quite so keen for this to be the case. We’ve found a balance.

IT’S BEEN A narrative of compromise, charm and finally appreciation of what is truly a marvellous flat. The buyer has been in her last house for 25 years and I imagine will be in this flat for a term of equal length.

I find myself employing that cliché ‘the bigger picture’ as I suggest we remember this will be a home rather than focusing on the minor irritants that negotiations inevitably bring up. We’ve got there – at least to an agreement on terms and price – now it’s down to the lawyers.

I go out to dinner at a friend’s that night and break my weeknight self-imposed alcohol ban. The deal warrants a glass of champagne.

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At the end of supper one of the guests moves towards a previously unseen (by me) piano in the corner of the room and starts to play their favourite song. It’s rather beautiful if a little schmaltzy, a Country and Western ballad sung by Bonnie Rait called ‘If I can’t make you love me.’

It’s maudlin to say the least as Bonnie emotes the words ‘here in the dark, in these lonely hours’ and the mood is soon reflected in the room. The supper party breaks up soon after.

On getting into a taxi home, a reassuring up-tempo beat emanates from the radio, an old friend: ‘So shine bright, you and I, tonight we’re like diamonds in the sky.’

I sing along and mentally thank my client for allowing this chanson to take hold of me in the way it does while hoping too there’s an expiry date on the effect.