A Handy Jack.

So, I told you about my car crash, but did I tell you about the gas leak?





No? Ok, here goes. Bear in mind that my husband is virtually on the other side of the planet, being smoozed by loads of Chinese business men and women, life in Haddon Drive continues its roller coaster journey with great vigour.





I woke up early on Monday morning for a change, and decided to have a shower before the children woke up. When I came out of the bathroom I could smell gas upstairs, so I knew it must be pretty bad downstairs. After opening every possible window I could, I then started to panic a bit. What do I do now? Alex isn't here, I can't ring the gas board, we don't have any money to get them involved. Maybe I should just switch it off and Alex will sort it out when he gets back. The kids were eating their breakfast by this time, complaining that they were very cold, and why were the windows open? I couldn't leave the gas off all week, they would freeze, and have no hot food. Then I thought I could ring Frank (Alex's dad) as he would know what to do. The phone rang and rang, then it went to answer phone. Shit. Now what do I do? I put the phone down without leaving a message. I need to speak to someone now, not later.



Then it dawned on me, what if he was still in Spain? Alex had told me the week before that his mum and dad had taken Nonna to their apartment in Spain for a holiday. I had no idea if they where back yet. I didn't know what to do. Ordinarily I would phone the gas board and let them sort it out, and then stump up the cash afterwards. But we have no way of doing that. How can you get someone to do some work for you that you have no way to pay them for. I don't have any credit cards, nothing for emergencies, no stash of cash in my mattress or nest egg for a rainy day in the bank. I suppose if the worst comes to the worst, I could phone my mum but what could she do? She's 200 miles away, and to be perfectly honest, I wouldn't want my dad to know that I can't look after myself at the age of 37.



Luckily, with all this running through my mind, only a couple of short (although that's not what it felt like) minutes later, the phone rang. It was Frank. Thank God. I was so relieved I burst into tears, and started sobbing hysterically down the phone to him. He said he would send Jack round to have a look and told me to switch it off. It all seemed so very simple now. Within a couple of minutes it was all sorted out. As it happened, Jack couldn't come over until the next day so we had a very cold day and night, but he came the next morning and fixed it in no time. A very simple problem. A connection behind the cooker had come loose.



I felt like a bit of a moron. I had got hysterical over such a small thing, but the fact of the matter is, that when something like this happens, it is the amount of readies that you have in your pocket that colours how you deal with things. If I had a credit card, or a wad of cash in the bank, would I have stressed so much? I doubt it. I would have done what everybody else does, and in fact what my neighbour did only a few weeks ago when they had a gas leak, phone the gas board, let them do their thing, then moan about how much it costs afterwards. Luckily, and I really do mean it, I have a fantastic father-in-law that is a builder and has an army of workers of all descriptions at his beck and call to do his bidding. Actually, I only need the one. His name is Jack, he is Polish and he fixes everything. If I wasn't married (and neither was Jack) I would marry him.