Real life | 6 June 2019

No sooner had the builder boyfriend finished digging for no good reason in the basement than his attention turned to the old but perfectly good downstairs loo.

I don’t know why he does this. I didn’t want the basement dug and I certainly did not want anything done to my downstairs loo. It is, or should I say was, a rough but functional affair just off the kitchen, accessed via a small step down into the utility and larder area — turn right at the fridge, et voilà. Well, we all love an en suite.

The idea that you can move seamlessly from one enterprise to another, perhaps taking out the milk to make a cup of tea with the sound of the flush ringing in your ears, ought not to be seen as a problem in my view. In fact, I call it flow.

And the flow didn’t end there. The downstairs loo led seamlessly into the coal hole.