Trapped

There's nothing quite like a cold shower first thing in the morning to concentrate the mind wonderfully in more ways than one, especially if it's meant to be hot.

After assuring His Lordship it wasn't my fault ( why did he assume it was my fault?),the other option was a faulty boiler.

It is typical that we are just a week over the 2 year household guarantee that Quartermile have for new flats.
There is nothing for it but to call in an expert if we can get one to answer their phone before 9am.

It is also sod's law that we are away overnight in Glasgow for the private view of Daughter #4's exhibition- Scotland Can Make It, and then it's the weekend with no plumbers available except in an expensive emergency.

So it's a bad start to the day, which was possibly what this winged insect was thinking as it stumbled into a spider's trap in the keyhole of a door in Greyfriars Kirkyard.
At least we live to tell the tale.

EDIT:- a plumber has been and done what seems to be necessary; his Lordship's blood pressure has returned to normal, his good humour will surely follow, and the taxi is at the door as is the rain. Let joy be unconfined!