And as far as I know it had been working for the last 12 months. So why did my boiler wait for an out-of-season cold snap to stop working? Well I’ll tell you, it’s the curse of the Walton’s, of course!
I wouldn’t have minded so much, but shortly after I moved into my new address, the boiler was serviced, and it made the grade, and was deemed as safe. Now, you might assume it would continue working for the next 12 months – ooooh no, no, not if you’re a Walton. True to form, it packed up the very next day. However, the repair procedure was straightforward enough. I made a call to the housing association, they phoned a service company and they called me to make an appointment to view my dying boiler. At the very worst I reckoned it would take two weeks to put right, assuming the service parts were available.
An engineer was booked, but failed to arrive. Okay. Maybe he got caught up with a job that took longer than he thought, or maybe he didn’t get the message to come to my address? On the Wednesday of week one, I received a call from the service company apologising for the absence of their man, as he’d phoned in sick. Fair enough, there wasn’t a lot anyone could have done about that. They promised that another engineer would call to assess the boiler on the following Monday between 1 and 5pm. He turned up, and the problem was put down to a computer circuit board failure. The guy ordered one on the spot and then left.
Ripper, we were moving forward at last. I was still no nearer to a hot bath and warm radiators but I thought hey, what’s another week, the part will arrive and someone will come and fit it. What a prat, that’s what you get for being British I guess, ever hopeful! The circuit board arrived on the Wednesday of the third week and it was attached to a different Mr. Fix it, I relayed my explanation of the events leading up to the no hot water situation and he broke out his tools. He made his check of the boiler and said, “Naaa it’s not the circuit board, it’s the fan and the motor that’s packed up, my guess is the last bloke that came out saw what the problem was and couldn’t be bothered with it as they’re a pig to fit.” Grrrreat! Man two ordered part two and left leaving me with part one.
At the start of week five the new combination part arrived at my flat ahead of man three and, when he turned up, I recited the whole sorrowful saga of what had and hadn’t happened to my boiler. And then I pointed to the ever growing collection of new parts, four more pieces and I reckon I could have assembled a new boiler myself! After 35 days without hot H2O I was hoping to hear this guy say, “There you go mate all done,” but I didn’t. Instead I heard, “Ooh that looks nasty.” Closely followed by, “It’s not your fan it’s your plug, it’s become depolarised, I can’t touch that I’m not an electrician.”
Well slap my thighs and call me Brenda, wouldn’t you just bloody know it! I mean, how the hell does that happen? I could understand it if I’d been fiddling about with it but I hadn’t been anywhere near it since the day I moved in. Then I remembered my E.C.T. sessions, of course it was my fault. Naturally I asked what type of side-effects I could expect after being plugged into the National Grid for 10 minutes but there was no mention that the experience would leave me with the power to fuck up a plug socket just by walking past it – even if I was bipolar!
Is it dangerous, was my first question? What a bloody stupid thing to ask, of course it was dangerous, it was in my flat! I moved the questioning up a notch, “Okay, how dangerous is it,” I asked as the guy ran down the hallway? “Just don’t touch it,” he shouted as he slammed the front door. Being British I grasped the situation by the throat, I took a close look at the potential fire hazard and then ignored it and made a pot of tea. But I must admit, I did wonder how the placing of a box of cat food in front of the dodgy socket would protect me from electrocution – obviously this was the most up to date safety measure for the householder and their pets! Week six proved to be the most productive by far. The fourth member of the boiler squad turned up in the shape of a sparks, and he repaired the socket in 10 minutes flat. With this complete I immediately asked him for his hand in marriage!
Right, I’m off. But before I go I’d like to leave you with a quote. It’s something that my great Aunt Gorden use to say to me, and something that I’ve passed on to my children and my nephews. “Neil,” she would say, “no matter where you are, and no matter what you’re doing – always keep it damp.” And you know what, she was right…
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