It is 3.30am on Thursday and my neighbour’s burglar alarm kicks in.
He is absent from his house, which is by no means an unusual occurrence. I look out of the window for signs of fleeing criminals, of which there are none. I dress slowly, just to give any intruders plenty of time to make their getaway, collect a torch and a big stick and go round to take a look.
I open the door to be greeted by the sights and sounds of water gushing from above, the source apparently being a burst pipe in the loft area which has taken out part of the ceiling. I begin an immediate search for a stopcock to turn off the water, but fail to find one in all the normal places. A call to the water company reveals its location, which is outside the house. I return to take a look. I am wet. I am also cold, because it is minus 8 degrees. I am also wishing people with stopcocks would put a sign next to it saying ‘Stopcock’, and a big arrow pointing directly at the stopcock to help people who are anxious to find it, especially in the dark.
The external stopcock proves as elusive as the internal stopcock. I go home and begin calling plumbers. At the fourth attempt I persuade one to come out at 10.00am and rectify the situation. I fire off an email to the owner (Mr.H.) advising him of some difficulties I am having at his house. It is now 6.00am.
The plumber duly arrives. He turns off the water, goes into the loft and finds three separate leaks. He fixes them. The house is now secure. Water has been prevented from spreading into other areas of the house, such as the living room and dining room which are wooden floored and carpeted. The day has been saved. Mostly, anyway. Neighbourly duty has been done. Overdone, some might say.
The terms of the plumber’s service include immediate payment, no waiting for insurance claims or cheques from householders, it must be now. I pay him £355.35 through Mastercard.
Three rooms downstairs and the loft area above them are water damaged. The fibreglass insulation material in the loft is totally soaked and requires replacement. The ceiling has fallen in on the boiler room, which is a total mess, and the downstairs bathroom has taken a lot of water. Light fittings are hanging off this ceiling and lampshades are full of water. The third room is locked.
I convey this information to Mr.H. via email, suggesting he contact his insurance company immediately, and to seriously consider returning home without delay in order to deal with this problem. I wait.
Mr.H. calls. He has contacted his insurance company and registered his claim. In so doing, he has given my name and phone number to them as the point of contact for all matters relating to this claim. He assures me that I will not have to do anything at all because the company will look after everything. I am not to worry, all will be OK, I will not be inconvenienced in any way.
(This is not quite true. What I will end up having to do is field enquiries from the insurance company, its appointed loss adjuster, house restoration company, drying agent and all their sub-contractors, a total of six different companies so far, who all want to speak to me and go through what happened at least three times each. I will have to agree appointments with all these people and make myself available to let them into the house for surveys and rectification work. I will also have to contact a locksmith to deal with the locked room, paying him £93.15 for his trouble using my Mastercard, because his terms of payment are identical to those of the plumber. I must also deal with additional requests from Mr.H. to perform tasks unconnected with the burst pipes, such as arranging for a dehumidifier for the cellar which is unaffected by recent events. I am also charged with arranging for the boiler to be fixed, if necessary, and to ensure that all heating, water, and lighting is servicable in time for the return of Mr.H.'s daughter in two weeks time.)
Of course, when I consider the impact of Mr. H.'s refusal to return home and deal with all this activity himself, I am sorely tempted to down tools, and to request him to kindly fuck off. However, he is now into me for the sum of £448.50, and I wish to ensure I get this money back before I upset his equilibrium with such requests. Therefore, I will do as he asks until the daughter returns, carrying the £448.50 in cash with her as promised. The daughter then gets the house keys inserted into a convenient bodily orifice, with a suggestion she conveys this unmistakable message to her breathtakingly arrogant and totally presumptuous father.