She hadn’t mentioned a problem with the plumbing, but then I leave looking after the house to her. It’s makes sense when I work a seventy-hour week. I once came home to find she’d had the living room wallpapered in some ghastly shade of pink. I didn’t say anything of course. She’s the one who’s stuck in the house all day, and what’s the point of working those hours if she can’t make it the way she likes it?
I have to give her credit, she doesn’t complain about it. I’m sure she deals with dozens of things she doesn’t bother me with. I only knew about the plumber because I left my phone behind and when I came back for it, I heard the wardrobe sneeze. I opened the door and demanded to know who he was and what he was doing, and that was when my wife told me about the U-bend. He smiled and nodded like he was happy to leave the explaining to her. I don’t think he spoke much English, poor fellow.
It was all a terrific nuisance for my wife of course, as she’d been in the middle of getting dressed to meet with the ‘ladies who lunch’, as she calls her friends. I’ve never understood why they dress themselves up to the nines, let alone how, but then a man’s wife should hold a little mystery for him, don’t you think? It stops a marriage getting staid.
The plumber arrived while she was in the middle of her complicated dressing ritual, so she’d thrown on her dressing gown and couldn’t get dressed properly until he’d finished searching our bedroom for that wretched U-bend.
I joined the hunt and we found it under the kitchen sink in the end. I’d have thought that would be the first place a plumber would look, but then he was foreign and perhaps they plumb differently wherever he’s from. I’m sure he knew what he was doing because by the time I got home from work, the plumbing was working perfectly.