As my partner and I only planned to stay in our current home for up to five or six years, we decided on a kitchen that would be aesthetically pleasing but not too costly. So we found ourselves perusing the Norwich branch of MFI which seemed to have some pretty tasty kitchens on offer. While examining one model we were suddenly aware of the pungent and invasive stench of cheap aftershave, having caught our attention we turned around and there was Ivan.

'Kitchen designer' Ivan looked like an over weight Max Clifford, he sweated profusely and spoke with contrived sincerity, "I can design you the kitchen of your dreams at a price you'll love" he oozed. Despite our instinct and better judgement we invited Ivan to our home to measure up and design this so called "kitchen of our dreams." On getting this invitation he stepped into my personal space and with rancid breath japed, "don't worry I'll only charge you a cup of tea" ho ho (not the first time he's used this quip I suspect).

The design process was as expected; Ivan came to measure up, slagged off a few rival kitchen companies, wittered on, made promises and nodded his head sincerely. We informed Ivan of our budget and, as is common practice at this point he made excuses for items that would increase the cost not going in, for example "nah you don't want lighting" he croaked, "bulbs are a bloody nightmare to replace." He tutted when we asked about a mechanical larder, "what? All those moving parts…" Finally we agreed on a design and Ivan diaried us a slot to go into the Norwich branch of MFI and see this computer generated image of the 'kitchen of our dreams.'

A few days later we went into MFI and sure enough, Ivan produced a nice looking image of our prospective kitchen. He went through the list of items, knocking money off (a special favour just for us you understand) until he got to the final figure - about four and a half grand. At this point we were joined by the manager, a ratty looking fellow with sleeves rolled up to display his tattoos. Ratty lent over Ivan and examining the screen said, "Ivan, give them it for four grand and throw in three years free insurance." Ivan looked at us, momentarily lost for words at his boss's generosity and with all the sincerity of a cheap Christmas card he whispered, "now that is a fantastic deal."

About a week later the fitter came to our home and added a further four and a half hundred quid to the bill in sundries. Fair enough, it could all be justified; fitting gas, plumbing etc but one can't help wondering whether Ivan was aware of these costs when he gave us the original quote. We decided to go with it anyway as this was still within the five grand we'd budgeted.

So we went into the Norwich branch of MFI, paid our deposit and this was when the trouble began.

First of all remember the 'three years free insurance' generously added by Ivan's boss Ratty?

Upon examining the list of items, right at the very bottom 'two years insurance cost £92.'

So I phoned Ivan and the conversation went like this,

ME: "Ivan, your manager said we were getting three years free insurance but on the invoice it says two years insurance at £92, I don't understand."

IVAN: "Yes, that's one years insurance that you get with the product and two more makes three years insurance."

ME: "But Ivan, ninety two pounds isn't free"

IVAN: "But it is three years insurance."

ME: "Ok Ivan, just take it off all together, we don't want any insurance so remove the ninety two pounds."

IVAN: "Not a problem."

Except it was a problem because having my suspicion that Ivan was not an altogether trust worthy sort confirmed, I drove to the Norwich branch of MFI to get a new invoice minus the ninety two pounds.

Ivan was in situ with a prospective customer, drooling mealy mouthed words and no doubt poisoning them with his halitosis and understated enthusiasm. He left her to peruse MFI's kitchens and sat me down at a computer. After fiddling about for five minutes he informed me he'd taken the insurance off but couldn't print an invoice as that would have to come from head office. Not entirely convinced, I'd already been inconvenienced enough so decided to take his word for it and leave it at that.

The fiasco with the insurance continued for about a week, took up a lot of time in phone calls and almost had me cancelling the kitchen altogether. Eventually they removed it (with all the enthusiasm of a malingerer getting up from a dusty armchair to take a piss during the adverts of the Jeremy Kyle show) and we paid the balance.

About a month later we got a call to advise us the kitchen was on its way, the fitters phoned shortly after and we arranged a day and time for it all to go in.

Here's where things improved.

The fitters (Vince Healy Builders I think) were great, turned up at seven AM checked all the boxes as they were delivered and made sure everything was there. They worked solid until 5pm, came back the next day and had the kitchen finished by 2 in the afternoon (minus a minor missing part that was delivered by courier a week later and fitted soon after). A Gas Man turned up the next day and plumbed in the hob, I guess time will tell but they seemed to have done a first class job. Well, time has told and Vince Healy's fitters turned out to be text book cowboys; if there were corners to be cut, they cut them any old screw will do. Total nightmare.

We are really pleased with the kitchen itself, fully fitted with diplomat cooker, hob, dishwasher and hygena cupboards it seems sturdy and (including the price for fitting including plumbing, electrical work and installing a gas appliance) was a snip at five grand.

We feel the kitchen was reasonably priced and the cost of fitting appropriate to the standard it was installed (the fitters were all CORGI registered etc). However, the slimy sales tactics employed by Ivan and Ratty in tandem with their aggressive and underhand attempts at selling unnecessary insurance kind of took away from the otherwise good and recommendable product.