Lucy looked at the whale, now sitting on the fireplace like a trophy. “Flushing,” she said, and smiled.
Lucy burst out laughing—the first real laugh she’d had in days. “No. That whale is going on the mantelpiece. As a warning.” blocked toilet abingdon
She paid the very reasonable fee (Dave refused a tip, saying “I charge what’s fair, love, not what’s desperate”). Before he left, he handed her a laminated card: “Abingdon Draincare – No job too weird.” Lucy looked at the whale, now sitting on
“Need me to dispose of the evidence?” he asked. Before he left, he handed her a laminated
Now, the whale was lodged like a grinning, unblinking cork in the bend of the pipes. The water level in the bowl rose ominously with every tentative flush. Lucy’s husband, Tom, was on a business trip in Manchester. Her phone battery was at 6%.
“No. Plastic. Bath toy. My son is two.”
And from that night on, every parent in her playgroup had Dave’s number saved under “Toilet Emergency – No Questions Asked.”