Shute, Nevil Read Free Page A

solicitor looked startled. ‘Oh, yes. It’s running at the tap all right.’
    ‘Ah, but is it coming into the tank from the main, up at the top? That’s what you want to watch.’
    ‘I don’t know. I never thought about that.’
    The builder smiled. ‘First thing I thought about, the water. But then, I been in the trade, you see -all my life. Let me go up and have a look at the cistern, and I’ll soon tell you.’
    ‘Is yours off?’
    ‘Aye.’
    They went up to the attic; Corbett watched anxiously as Mr. Littlejohn depressed the ball-valve. ‘Not a drop,’ he said cheerfully. ‘Just the same as mine. Dry as a bone-see?’
    He got down from the cistern. ‘That’s what I came in about, really and truly,’ he said. ‘I wanted to be sure you knew about it, and not go lighting up the hot-water boiler, or having a hot bath, or anything of that. I been in the trade, and I know what to look for-see? So I thought I’d just pop in and see if things were all right. Hope you don’t mind.’
    ‘It’s awfully good of you,’ said Corbett. ‘As a matter of fact, the boiler’s going now. I keep it in all night. I’d better let it go out, hadn’t I?’
    ‘It’s all right so long as you don’t draw off any more hot water-or not very much. I wouldn’t make it up again-let it go out natural.’
    They went downstairs, looking at bedrooms and the drawing-room as they went. ‘These windows are just terrible, of course,’ said Corbett. ‘I’ll have to try and do something about them. I wish this bloody rain would stop.’
    The builder nodded. ‘I’m going down to my place, soon as I’ve had a bite to eat,’ he said, ‘to get a couple of my chaps up with some match boarding to put over them temporarily till I get some glass cut. Do yours the same, if you like-while they’re here.’
    Corbett thanked him.
    ‘Well, I’ll be going along,’ said Mr. Littlejohn. He paused by the door. ‘One other thing,’ he said. ‘You haven’t had no trouble with the drains?’
    ‘Not that I know of. I haven’t looked.’
    They went to look. The downstairs water-closet pan was about half-full of a black liquid that undulated and changed level as they watched.
    ‘That’s bad,’ said Mr. Littlejohn, regarding it, fascinated. ‘That’s very bad, that is.’
    ‘Isn’t yours like that?’ asked Corbett.
    ‘ It may be now. It wasn’t when I looked a quarter of an hour ago.’
    ‘What ought I to do about it?’
    The builder scratched his head. ‘Don’t see that you can do anything about it, really and truly,’ he observed. ‘It’s flooding does that-pressure and flooding in the sewers; that didn’t ought to be there at all. But there-I suppose it’s all you can expect.’
    He turned to Corbett. ‘I wouldn’t let any of them use this place,’ he said. ‘Not for an hour or two, till I find out how things are. You’ve got another one upstairs, haven’t you?’
    They satisfied themselves that that one was all right.
    Corbett walked with him to the door; the builder made him step outside into the rain. ‘Just between you and me, Mr. Corbett,’ he said: ‘there’s no sense in alarming people-ladies, and that. But what I mean is-the electricity and gas, they’re just an inconvenience, if you take my meaning. A bit of coal in the grate, and a good resourceful woman like my missus or Mrs. Corbett, and you’re right as rain. But the water-that’s different. You want to watch the water and not let them go wasting it, or flushing closets with it, or anything of that-not till we know where we are. You’ve got fifty gallons more or less in your cold cistern and another thirty in the hot water tank, and that’s plenty to be going on with. But it’s not enough for all the house to have a bath, or let run to waste. Not till we know how things are. I mean, when it’s going to start running again.’
    Corbett nodded. ‘That’s true. Thanks very much for the tip.’
    The builder said: ‘I just been a walk. You