Hello Ladies

Some of my regulars have reminded me that I have not told the next episode of my adventures in the world of the british tradesman.  How remiss of me! my apologies.

When we last left you, Danny (the mate) and I were scudding around London, upsetting traffic wardens and padding the job out to our hearts' content on behalf of William's little drainage company, Roddit and Run.

I was happily sitting in The Van eating a sarnie, waiting for Danny to finish fleecing a customer and was just about to get off back to running my own life, when I had a phone call from a Very Important Client of William's.  He told me that an entire building full of office workers in Central London needed Danny and I to come and rescue them from an overflowing 'U' trap which had started spewing its contents into an underground car park somewhere just off Oxford Street.  By now, I had got thoroughly into the mindset of the british tradesman and recognised a job that had infinite possibilities of padding out, fights with traffic wardens and huge lists of call backs and 'remedial works'. So I rashly agreed to attend the site and give the client the benefit of me and Danny's unsurpassed expertise in all matters relating to drainage.

We were told the address of the site - and off we went in The Van to meet Johnathan the Surveyor who would give us the rundown on the scale of the problem when we got there.

After negotiating the perilous Central London traffic we managed to find the site.  I was very pleased to find that Johnathan the Surveyor was rather good looking and Danny was even more pleased to find a U trap chock full of all sorts of unmentionable things that needed jetting out using the high pressure water jet in the back of The Van.  I managed to drag myself away from gazing at Johnathan the Surveyor for long enough to start carefully moving The Van down the ramp into the bowels of the underground car park (William, please note!).  I got to the bottom of the ramp, having carefully checked the headroom sign (William please note).

Let me tell you this now. NEVER believe headroom signs when you are driving your brother's Van.   They are entirely fictitious and deliberately placed to entrap the unwary.  The entrance to the car park was only about three feet high!  I kid you not.

Muttering to myself, I decided to back up The Van.  So I put it into reverse and started pressing down on the go-faster pedal.  Nothing happened.  Hum!  So I pressed a little harder...still nothing. More hum!  After several attempts and much merriment from a steadily increasing crowd of office workers, care takers and a bunch of tradesmen who seemed to appear from nowhere, The Van seemed to be well and truly STUCK!

So, with a sigh I tried for one last time.  I put my foot down....The Van got the bit between its teeth and shot into reverse..and there was this loud scraping sound which thrilled the assembled crowd.   Once I had finished banging my head against the steering wheel a few times and  my life had flashed before my eyes at the thought of what William would say when he heard I had killed The Van....I let it roll forward back down into the car park.  I realigned the van and started to press on the go faster pedal and again The Van resolutely refused to move..but...worse still, huge clouds of noxious black smoke started to appear from under the bonnet to roars of approval from a hugely entertained crowd.

I have to admit that at this point it was very hard not to succumb to girly tears of fright and frustration and allow Johnathan the Surveyor to clasp me to his manly bosom in comfort.  However, the Roddit and Run show had to go on, so Danny got on with the job of ungunking the U trap, while I filled up the jetting tank and called out the AA.  (*please note, I am not at this point referring to Alcoholics Anonymous, but the Automobile Association - though the temptation to head for the Cafe Rouge over the road with Johnathan the Surveyor and down an entire bottle of red wine was almost too much!).

I let Danny get on with it and retired to the top of the ramp to gaze at the poor old Van in its predicament.  It had rather a sad look about it as it sat entrapped belching black smoke in its subterannean prison......

So what happens next? - will The Van be rescued? will said rescue require a vat of vaseline and some ropes (oo-er), will Danny's arm be permanently stuck in the U trap? who is going to wipe the piles of congealed grease off the paintwork of that carelessly parked Bentley? and will I manage to get Johnathan the Surveyor's business card?

Log in tomorrow to find out more!!

Don't you just love a cliffhanger?

Portia