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Problems of a householder
I am increasingly vexed by the people next door. They think I haven’t noticed that the roof of their conservatory slides back to release a gleaming, ‘futuristic’, Sixties-style rocket into the upper atmosphere, but I have. And if they didn’t want me to spot their summerhouse retracting into the ground whenever there’s an international crisis, they shouldn’t have installed all those tannoys and klaxons. I can’t get a wink of sleep, lying there worrying about how I’m going to pay the two Nubian body-servants who press cushions against my ears all night because otherwise I wouldn’t get a wink of sleep.
It was quite bad enough when they were uranium mining without a licence just yards from my geraniums.
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