The Landlady: More keys please…

I haven’t had much luck with keys lately. The other week I was locked out of my house for two hours as I forgot my keys when I went out running. This week, I went to Hastings in order to execute my monthly task of cleaning the communal hallway of the flats I own there.

I arrived at around 5pm to discover that my key no longer appeared to work in the front door lock. I attempted to buzz a couple of the flats on the intercom system, then realised that this wasn’t working either. No matter, it was a gorgeous September afternoon as summer gave a final hurrah, so I was happy to perch on the doorstep for a while with my Hoover as, with eight flats in the building, surely one of the tenants would be along soon to let me in. I idly watched a very irritating woman and her child trying to keep a parking space in front of the building. Eventually, a car pulled up and took the space, much to the woman’s anger and indignation and, hurrah, out popped the Polish couple who occupy one of my flats. I know them, as I’ve seen them before on previous cleaning forays.

My key no longer appeared to work

I politely explained that I was there to clean, but my key no longer appeared to work. The man took my key and inserted it into the lock, where it worked first time… how embarrassing. I must have been having a blonde moment. They then proceeded to explain that the intercom hadn’t worked since they’d moved in, which was a problem as they lived on the third floor and had a small child. They asked if I could inform the management company and ask them to repair it. I am the management company, but clearly they assumed I was the cleaner, which is actually quite a good thing as, had they realised that I was actually their landlady, they might have reeled off a catalogue of problems in the flat.

I will be reading the riot act to the Intercom Engineer first thing Monday morning…