Failing to fix it

I bake cakes, fix boilers, and allow myself to be vulnerable in public; what more could you want from a study leader? 

Except I didn't actually fix the boiler.

Rewind.

I was leading Zac's last night and planned to get there early to put on the urn which takes ages to heat up. I didn't get there quite as early as I hoped because, well, I had to eat a piece of cake. But finally got there and tried to turn off the alarm. 

I've been struggling with the keypad for months and last night - complete failure. Alarm went off. Keep calm, I said to myself, just key in the numbers. Bear in mind I was already stressed by setting off the alarm, and because the alarm was going I couldn't hear the little beeps that tell me I've successfully entered the number. 

So the alarm went on and on. I called Stu and yelled down the phone, "How do I switch off the alarm once it's going?"

He said to do what I was doing i.e. keep entering the code until it registered. "Try using the end of your key to press the numbers."

Finally that worked. Deep breath then remembered I still hadn't switched on the urn. Did so. Another deep breath. Got my things in from the car and pottered for a few minutes. By now the heat that had been generated by my panic was wearing off. "Brr, it's cold in here."

The radiators weren't on so I turned up the thermostat - that usually solves the problem. 

But not this time.

By now people were turning up to be greeted by the words, "Keep your coats on and teas won't be ready for a bit."

When Bryan arrived we ventured into the boiler room. Now the boiler room is diagonally across the large main hall, the one that is in a state of disrepair as it's being prepared for building work. The floorboards are up and the ground covered in bits of rubble. Oh yes, and there's no electricity in the hall.

Using our phone lights we carefully threaded our way through the debris, up some very dodgy steps and into the boiler room. There, according to the control panel, the central heating was on. We pressed a variety of buttons but no joy. So it was down to the pilot light. 

Ah ha, this was the problem: the pilot had gone out.

Bryan then spent the next ten minutes on his knees in the dust while I read the instructions from the manual - without my glasses which I'd left in the other room. At the end of that, though the pilot would light, it wouldn't stay lit. We gave up.

Apart from that the evening was fine. Cold but fine.

Until the end. 

I was in the kitchen - and you know how small that is - putting cups in the dishwasher when one of our regulars cornered me saying he wanted a quiet word. He apologised for the state of his clothes the previous week and asked if I'd noticed. I hadn't but he went on to say, "I got home and realised I had a hole in my trousers and my tools were hanging out."

For an instant I genuinely wondered what tools he'd been carrying with him. Then I realised.

P.S. I gave everyone an early Valentine's gift: a stone to remind them they are loved.

P.P.S. Now if he'd had actual tools on him last night they might have come in useful.