UNITED USELESSITIES

The next time that there's a drought or a hosepipe ban, and a representative of the water companies appears on your TV or radio bleating on about how they're doing "everything that they can" to deal with any leaks in the system, I'd like you to remember this small tale of woe about which I am going to tell you.

Just over a fortnight ago, I went up into the back garden (because the geography here is complicated and far too tedious to explain at any length) to hang out the washing on a sunny Saturday morning for the first time in a while after a period of summer rains.

It rapidly became apparent from the swamp I found myself stepping into, that what I had presumed to be groundwater drainage at the bottom of the wall during the previous week was actually an underground water leak from the pipe that the water company run across my particular patch of land to feed the entire row of terraced houses that my own simple hovel lurks amidst.

Trickle, Saturday 12th

Immediately I squelched down the steps and back into the house and reported the situation to the "Leakline" and, after a lengthy chat in which I tried to explain the situation, and the tedious descriptions of the geography to a very doubtful-sounding young woman, I got a promise that an inspector would be sent out to assess the situation the following Friday.

In the intervening six days, the slight trickle did increase a tad, so that we had two tiny little streams trickling softly across the cobbles on the back road, but it still seemed harmless enough, although, given that the streams were likely to vanish if Friday morning, when it came, turned out to be a rainy one, I thought I'd better arrange with work to be around to chat to their inspector, given that, out here beyond the rim, some workmen struggle to find us at all and depart muttering dark oaths about their time being wasted.

Permission granted,
Friday 11th

In fact, on that Friday morning, I was actually on the phone trying to explain how our obscure little terrace could be found to his supervisor, when the inspector arrived and began his inspection without me, which kind of belied the "we need you to be there" instruction that I had received on the phone the previous Saturday, despite me explaining that the area was fully accessible without me, but I let it pass. Still, it was all very pleasant, and he chatted about the problem, and any other issues which might arise, and I signed the various permission forms, explained that I was about to be away on holiday for a week - the first (and much needed) break that I'd had since the death of my mother last year.

"Not to worry" I was told "They'll be here within seven days and, because you've signed all these forms, we'll just get on with it…" and so, after a last look at the garden on Saturday morning, I set off on my holidays knowing that the problem would be solved by the time I returned.

Deluge, Saturday 19th

The following Saturday, around lunchtime, and now two weeks since I reported the slight leak, I arrived home from my relaxing holiday to find a torrent of water now pouring non-stop off the garden and one of neighbours scowling at me in that "why haven't you done anything about this" way that people have when the problem is somebody else's.

"Have you not seen anyone from the water board?" I asked, "because they said it would be dealt with within seven days…"

"And when was the seven days up?" she asked frostily.

"Yesterday!" I replied and we share a sombre "Ah!" moment, presumably about the futility of existence.

In the house I found an official-looking card from a mysterious "Brian", allegedly a second inspector, which made slightly scary threats and asked me to text contact details to a mobile number which turned out to be unavailable. Having pondered upon the wisdom of sending out another inspector after I'd already dealt with the first, I thought I'd better query this with United Utilities and rang the "official" number on the card.

Ring "Brian" (?)

Curiously, they'd never heard of this "Brian" and claimed that the only employee they had of that name worked out of Manchester, so that's a bit of a mystery.

They told me to ignore it.

Meanwhile, they were able to confirm what we'd already discovered from our answer phone messages, that the team were due to come and fix the leak on Monday (sixteen days after I first reported it) and that it would be helpful if I could be there, not least to get some clarification as to who "Brian" was.

I disappeared off to compose more emails explaining to my manager why I might not be in on the first morning back after my holiday...

Later on, I tracked down my next-door neighbour who seemed to have had a very frustrating week watching this water pour out from her garden and splash noisily onto the steps which align with her back door.

Apparently the transformation of the minor leak into a full-blown torrent began the previous Monday, and a team had turned up to fix it last Wednesday, looked at it, but then claimed (perhaps because it was raining) that they didn't have permission go onto my property, and went away again, having done nothing about it, and despite my neighbour's (rather irate I gather) telephone call to UU discovering that the necessary permissions were actually on file on the computer.

I'll gloss over the bizarre logic of the Utility company sending out a team without the necessary permissions to a house they knew would be empty, and I'd like to point out that, because I had received no notification that they were coming that day, I would have been at work anyway so still wouldn't have been able to give it.

Bloody great hole,
Arrived unannounced 2013.

I will also gloss over the fact that last year I arrived home to find that they'd dug a bloody great big hole outside my back door without any prior notification and without any permission whatsoever, but that's just likely to exasperate me if I choose to think about it again, so we ought to move on.

Finally, I should also like to confirm that I had already given permission for them to deal with the leak anyway… I have forms and everything.

Anyway, as I listen throughout Sunday t

o all of that water draining away as it splashes down our own impromptu waterfall at the back of the houses, I'm now fully aware that it will all be sorted out tomorrow, and another sorry episode in my relationship with United Utilities will come to an end.

Somehow, I don't quite believe that it will, though.