In which the plot thickens

Were Lady Bracknell not still exceedingly unwell*, she would not have been at home this morning to answer the doorbell. On the other hand, had she been feeling a little brighter, she would very probably have recognised the caller without having to be prompted by the gentleman himself.

It was the very charming Mr J___, agent to the landlord who owns the lease on the block of flats of which Bracknell Towers forms a part.

Mr J___ had with him a variety of keys which had been returned to him by the unlamented former tenant. He soon established that he had keys which fit both the Yale and mortice locks of the exterior door. (It is indicative of Mr J___'s delicacy and good manners that he checked to see whether Lady Bracknell was at home rather than simply letting himself in to the communal staircase.)

Once in, he asked who had removed the stair carpet. Lady Bracknell offered him three guesses...

Mr J___ tried several keys in the Yale lock of the flat in question. (Regular readers will recall that the mortice lock was recently removed by the unlamented former tenant.) None of the keys which had been returned to him fit the lock. Lady Bracknell was forced to confess that nothing could have surprised her less.

And so, in order to conduct an inspection of the flat in question, Mr J___ must now hire someone to break in to it and subsequently fit replacement locks. Somewhat to Lady Bracknell's surprise, he agreed with the suggestion she had made in writing that the locks to the exterior door should also be changed. The unlamented former tenant's rent has been paid in full up to the end of her term, and she no longer has any legal right to enter the premises.

This is excellent news, given that she is the type of person who would undoubtedly consider herself to have a perfect right to come back to collect her post in perpetuity. She will probably be very put out to discover that she can no longer do so. Call Lady Bracknell petty and small-minded, but she would very much enjoy seeing the expression on her former neighbour's face when she realises that steps have been taken to prevent her from ever entering the building again.




* The doctor says that Lady Bracknell has a viral infection: it is always good to see that many years of medical training have not been wasted. (Readers are asked to forgive Lady Bracknell if she seems unduly bitter: she was very much looking forward to seeing an old and dear friend at a meeting tomorrow, but must instead spend the day mewed up with daytime television and paracetamol. The novelty of such a method of passing the time faded by mid afternoon of her first day of incarceration.)