CityLiving: That's what Una McCaffrey's neighbours want to know.

Few things spice up neighbourhood conversation more than the idea that everybody's property could be worth more than they may originally have thought. This is particularly the case in very mature areas, where houses tend to go up for sale rarely and new developments are almost impossible to lead through the planning process, so forceful are the raft of objections.

So the excitement that trickles down from any property that does reach the market can be immense, and all the more so for those homeowners who live in a comparable street or road. A situation in this vein arose some months ago in my very own back yard.

It all happened rather slowly at the start, when a planning application appeared on a run-down property which had failed to keep pace with the wealth-induced sprucing up that had occurred on all of its sides. The application was eventually replaced with workmen and diggers, who tore the site apart in their efforts (locals later learned) to install an underground carpark. How swish, the neighbours thought, as they watched with almost indecent eagerness to see what would emerge from the ground at the next stage.

This bit came quickly, with a bare brick outline soon giving way to the most polished of plastering, expensive wooden windows and doors. The cosmetic details - the paint, the fountain, the rolled-out lawn - were next, with the finishing touch coming as the loud and proud "For Sale" sign was planted in the corner of the site. The contact phone number was duly noted and the agent surreptitiously called by neighbour upon neighbour as they sought the answer to the question on everybody's mind: how much? The information could then be used to place an informal valuation on their own homes and, by extension, hopefully make them feel very comfortable with their financial situation.

The problem was that the development in question was one of apartments, whereas the bulk of curious neighbours live in well-appointed houses. The difference makes comparisons difficult, if not impossible, although few local residents allowed this mere detail to discourage them from drawing conclusions anyway. For the most part, the assumption was that the new apartments on sale would naturally be inferior to their own houses - their houses would thus be worth more.

Imagine the shock then when word spread of the selling prices for the development, which was a mix of duplexes and apartments that came in both one- and two-bed format. In simple terms, the one-beds were going for more than some three-bed terraced 1940s houses nearby that were twice as big, while the two-beds were priced higher than or at least equal to the locally accepted value of some four-bed terraced houses around another corner. How could this be? To be clear, none of the older houses in question were Corporation built and all had very decent gardens in keeping with their era. The apartments had a pleasant but shared garden space and access to private balconies. In common with many houses in the area, the apartments had sight of the sea.

Some house owners rejoiced, presuming their own properties had soared in value since last they looked, while others were silent in disbelief that mere apartments could lure buyers at a higher price than their houses could. A similar situation has doubtless been played out in numerous locations across the country.

So what was the reality of the situation in this particular suburb? Were these new high-spec apartments (complete with plasma television screens) simply worth more than the neighbouring houses or had the selling agent made a mistake and priced them too high? There was no right answer. What may be helpful in situations such this, would be to think about the market in a different way - one that acknowledges that the people buying these luxury apartments have so little interest in buying a house that comparisons are irrelevant. Perhaps the neighbours needed to realise that those spiffy young professionals, bachelors and bachelorettes, who poured in to view the new development were more or less unaware that there were houses nearby at all. Likewise, the empty-nesters who came to look were probably wanting to downsize from exactly the kind of older house that the neighbours thought were superior to the new, very compact apartments.

In the end, the market seemed to do its bit to resolve the matter, with the apartments starting to sell despite locals' belief that they might not. The theory that the market had two very separate tracks - one for apartments and one for houses - appeared proved. Or did it?

Well, about six weeks ago, a cursory call about that apartment development gave rise to some very interesting information. Rather than all being sold at this stage (several months after going on the market in a highly habitable state) it seems a few remained on the block. And more than that - they were now being offered at a "discount" of about 5 or 6 per cent of the original selling price. And this is at a time where average price growth stood at about 8 per cent. Did this mean the houses had won out after all? Perhaps, or perhaps not. Now that the apartments have all been sold, the debate is somewhat academic. In any case, another planning notice has been erected on a neighbouring site, giving rise to a whole new process of comparison.