After spending the day unblocking the gutters and drains in the pouring rain, he wasn’t in the mood for a parking dispute.
He rang me while I was at work to tell me he had been ‘firm but fair’ with the lady who told him to move my car from the space slightly to the side of my house. ‘Jeepers creepers,’ I thought, ‘the builder boyfriend’s only gone and blown a fuse with the locals in our second week.’
Look, we’ve come from Lambeth. We understand parking problems. I’m used to walking from Streatham, where I parked every day for 12 years to avoid charges of £300 a year to put my Volvo in the road where my flat in Balham was.
What could be more complicated and long-winded than that? Well, give things a chance.
In the Surrey countryside, living down a public track on a village green, a system of semi-private parking is in operation which is so unfathomable neither I nor the builder b can work it out, though heaven knows we’ve tried.
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