Chim-Chiminee

Luckily, I was out of bed when the Aerial System Guy telephoned me at 7:45 this morning. I was a bit surprised to receive his call at that time – usually it's only my mother who will ring me before eight o'clock; more often than not to enquire whether my toe has recovered from being stubbed a week ago last Wednesday or something (mothers pay such attention to detail). Anyway, this guy said he wanted to come round to poke his instrument into my socket for some reason, but as I looked around at the carnage in my flat (which resembled Steptoe's Yard), I had to put him off for an hour. Anyway, he eventually turned up and performed the aforesaid poking before announcing that I had little or no signal and that he would therefore need access to the roof. As we couldn't get hold of the caretaker for a further hour, I gave him a cup of tea. This probably sounds like a great deal of inconvenience but I can tell you, it was not. As it happens, the Alarm System Guy is away on holiday so the Aerial System Guy made a suitable substitute.

This reminds me of the time when we were giving a Christmas Eve party once. We'd been having some work done on the chimney earlier that day and the builder – for reasons known only to himself – had decided that he needed to climb to the roof for one last time, even though by now it was about four o'clock in the afternoon and almost dark. I was just putting the finishing touches to the newly-decorated living room in advance of the guests arriving for an early supper. The food was being prepared in the kitchen, despite the presence of two other workmen in there who had dug up the concrete floor (having discovered an underground lake bubbling beneath the house that threatened to make Atlantis of us all), and all was going well.

Then I heard a yell and, turning to look out of the patio windows, saw some mysterious objects bouncing onto the lawn in the dark. Going outside I saw that these objects were bricks and looking up, I noticed the builder (his arms embracing the entire chimney) surreptitiously flicking brick after brick away from the edifice. "I can't let go," he yelled, "or the whole thing will come down!"

Hmm. Thinking it was better to leave him to it, I headed back inside and continued to plump cushions and arrange ornaments ready for the arrival of the guests. Suddenly there was a dark and ominous rumble and from the fireplace there erupted a gagging, voluminous cloud of black soot and debris that proceeded to coat every single surface in the room, including me. The last few shards of brick eventually rolled onto the cream carpet and came to a rest. I was alarmed to hear another yell and noticed the builder slide to the ground from his ladder outside. He came into the room. "Sorry about that," he said, "the whole chimney gave way and I had to dismantle it brick by brick to stop it crashing through the roof." He surveyed the room and then looked at me – presumably the whites of my eyes were visible from within my blackened phizog.

"Oh well," he said finally. "At least Santa will be able to get down the chimney tonight."