A shadow passed across Mrs F's face when I mentioned that I wouldn't be back till tuesday, thus the living room of the former manse would have to be left in disarray.
"I have to placate a retired couple", I explain, "He's on Warfarin following a stroke so his blood's like water and he can't get warm, his wife keeps going on about when am I going to fit their stove?"
Tomorrow I have to appease the German woman with the ever lengthening list of faults she is experiencing as a tenant.
Behind these three a whole regiment of women stand clutching quotations and waiting at windows, tut, tutting, whilst peering at calandars for february.
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