My quest is over. I’ve found a place to live, and it wasn’t easy. After leaving Dovecot Towers, and indeed because of Dovecot Towers, I had a list of cast iron requirements. Sadly, what I now consider essential in a home is in reality up there with diamond encrusted door-handles and platinum floors.
I was only asking for basics, like a strong door. When I lived in Dovecot Towers and discovered that miscreants had stolen the main door, I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry, but my new block has a good door on it. A fine door. A safe door.
The post room is still communal with shallow boxes, but it’s safe. The building has a proper concierge (hooray!) which isn’t as grand as it sounds. They’re caretakers, really; the difference is, they will sign for post. The idea of having someone sitting at reception acts as a deterrent to people forcing their way in, but then the architects and developers have also hit upon a totally sci-fi innovation, usually found only on spaceships. It’s a main door that actually closes properly.
Regular readers aware of my proclivities might be curious for details of the cupboard situation. The news is not all good. I am not overburdened with yawning storage so vast that suitcases look lonely, or acres of shelving (sigh...) but there is a utility cupboard, for my mops, brooms and washer-drier. Let the joy be unconfined!
There’s a separate kitchen. Old-fashioned tenants accustomed to boiling their smalls on the hob appreciate separate kitchens. Personally I am not so inclined, but even so I’m grateful that I can shut the door so the entire flat doesn’t reek of whatever I am cooking.
There’s also a small balcony with a door that opens inwards so you don’t knock visitors over the edge, and a view. Hardly a stirring panorama of snow-capped mountains, but at least I’m not staring into someone else’s flat with a distance of just five feet between us.
And it’s larger than the average flat, but unfortunately, it’s painted white throughout and must stay that way. There were nails ready in the walls begging to be hung with pictures. I can’t hear my neighbours music, or their toilet flushing or any other diverting Dovecotian delights. There’s a recycling bin, and a water meter. There’s a well-posted fire assembly point (but with a decided lack of arsonists hereabouts, I doubt I’ll find myself standing there at dawn in my curlers.) The landlord seems to be a reasonable man who simply wants to let his flat and therefore needs a tenant.
Speaking as a former resident of the gruelling dystopia that was Dovecot Towers, I know from bitter experience that these matters are vital, even in buy-to-let developments. Security, a good, sturdy design and efficient management should never be considered as indulgent extras beyond the reach of renters. Safety is not a luxury.
So that’s a great flat, an apparently secure building, in a quiet area (all it needs now is a pseudonym; any suggestions?) What could possibly go wrong?
Showing posts with label property. Show all posts
Showing posts with label property. Show all posts
Tuesday, 10 March 2009
Tuesday, 3 February 2009
We're As Mad As Hell
Reklaw left this comment recently on quite an old post, so you might have missed it:
“We have been renting for the last three years and have had to move three times in that period. Two of the landlords decided to sell the property that we were living in, one after only three months into the tenancy - even through the property was advertised as "long term". Unfortunately the third move is now imminent. We have contacted our local council in the hope that they may be able to offer a solution only to be told that the wait for any property would be in excess of five years with no guarantee and at the most a one bedroomed flat may be offered. It would seem that we are destined to be nomads heading into retirement. Would be grateful for any comments/solution!!”
I don’t know much about Reklaw, but you know what; this comment really upset me.
Even though I try and put a positive spin on things, all renters, myself included, must accept that the genuine possibility that we might have to move every six months for the rest of our lives. What are we supposed to do? Move to Europe, where renting is the norm, and tenants are treated with respect, rather than as some freakish cash-cow/cockroach hybrid, to be milked dry and then eradicated?
It’s infuriating when people say: “…so move.” Do they imagine that magically, we beam our possessions from house to house like on Star Trek, and that the diligent flat-hunt is undertaken by the property fairy-grandmother?
Moving is always fraught and difficult, and letting agents still insist: of course it’s a long term let. Even my all time best ever landlord demanded assurances that I was in for the long haul, which I took to be two years. He gave me notice when he decided to sell after just eight months.
Moving is also inconvenient and unsettling. There are agency fees to be found, removal vans to hire and pay for, and the time-consuming task of multiple views. There’s overlapping deposits alongside rent in advance, and references to wheedle from lazy or reluctant landlords, who might be going bankrupt. That’s alongside the inevitable loss of internet, phone, and in extreme cases, water and power. Worse for me is the constant packing, unpacking and repacking, time after time after bloody time.
Social housing is scarce. We have no choice but to live this way, and successive governments have decided the private sector must build and then run rented housing. Tenants who stand up for themselves are portrayed as whining and belligerent.
You’d think we were demanding caviar, fresh flowers delivered daily, and stables for the miniature Shetland Ponies we’ve requested, all died pink, when all we want is security and fairness: things like repairs, and the freedom to remain unless there’s a genuine reason to turf us out. The right to vacant possession is regularly abused. When it is, landlords should be fined, and heavily. Owners shouldn’t invest in rental property unless they intend, and have the means for, long term lets, by which I mean decades, not months.
Tenants need a serious official body to protect our rights. The Health & Safety Executive (look upon their name and tremble) is regarded with respect, and a healthy measure of fear. Tribunals overseeing disputes in Employment, Disability and Equality are a proven, powerful and efficient way of making sure obligations are honoured.
But ultimately, what’s needed is a new law: “The Tenants Being Generally Maligned, Abused and Totally Shoved Around (Prevention) Act 2009.” I am aware this blog is regularly read in The House Of Commons. For the sake of people like Reklaw, can we get a sponsor? Because we’re as mad as hell, and we’re not going to take it anymore.
“We have been renting for the last three years and have had to move three times in that period. Two of the landlords decided to sell the property that we were living in, one after only three months into the tenancy - even through the property was advertised as "long term". Unfortunately the third move is now imminent. We have contacted our local council in the hope that they may be able to offer a solution only to be told that the wait for any property would be in excess of five years with no guarantee and at the most a one bedroomed flat may be offered. It would seem that we are destined to be nomads heading into retirement. Would be grateful for any comments/solution!!”
I don’t know much about Reklaw, but you know what; this comment really upset me.
Even though I try and put a positive spin on things, all renters, myself included, must accept that the genuine possibility that we might have to move every six months for the rest of our lives. What are we supposed to do? Move to Europe, where renting is the norm, and tenants are treated with respect, rather than as some freakish cash-cow/cockroach hybrid, to be milked dry and then eradicated?
It’s infuriating when people say: “…so move.” Do they imagine that magically, we beam our possessions from house to house like on Star Trek, and that the diligent flat-hunt is undertaken by the property fairy-grandmother?
Moving is always fraught and difficult, and letting agents still insist: of course it’s a long term let. Even my all time best ever landlord demanded assurances that I was in for the long haul, which I took to be two years. He gave me notice when he decided to sell after just eight months.
Moving is also inconvenient and unsettling. There are agency fees to be found, removal vans to hire and pay for, and the time-consuming task of multiple views. There’s overlapping deposits alongside rent in advance, and references to wheedle from lazy or reluctant landlords, who might be going bankrupt. That’s alongside the inevitable loss of internet, phone, and in extreme cases, water and power. Worse for me is the constant packing, unpacking and repacking, time after time after bloody time.
Social housing is scarce. We have no choice but to live this way, and successive governments have decided the private sector must build and then run rented housing. Tenants who stand up for themselves are portrayed as whining and belligerent.
You’d think we were demanding caviar, fresh flowers delivered daily, and stables for the miniature Shetland Ponies we’ve requested, all died pink, when all we want is security and fairness: things like repairs, and the freedom to remain unless there’s a genuine reason to turf us out. The right to vacant possession is regularly abused. When it is, landlords should be fined, and heavily. Owners shouldn’t invest in rental property unless they intend, and have the means for, long term lets, by which I mean decades, not months.
Tenants need a serious official body to protect our rights. The Health & Safety Executive (look upon their name and tremble) is regarded with respect, and a healthy measure of fear. Tribunals overseeing disputes in Employment, Disability and Equality are a proven, powerful and efficient way of making sure obligations are honoured.
But ultimately, what’s needed is a new law: “The Tenants Being Generally Maligned, Abused and Totally Shoved Around (Prevention) Act 2009.” I am aware this blog is regularly read in The House Of Commons. For the sake of people like Reklaw, can we get a sponsor? Because we’re as mad as hell, and we’re not going to take it anymore.
Tuesday, 20 January 2009
The Happy Renter
There are many positives about renting a flat. (Therearetherearethereare.) There are!
As I repeat this mantra, I am rocking slowly backwards and forwards while humming a rousing anthem. Once again, to boost my spirits, and strengthen my resolve: there are many positives.
When horrible neighbours move in, or monstrous, ugly, buildings block a once clear view of the misty mountains in the distance, then we can get the hell out, sharpish. Being able to move quickly on a whim is very liberating. One months notice in writing is all it takes, and with one bound, I am free. No chain, if you’re lucky, and a whole new environment, organised in weeks.
Despite the sloth of landlords, management companies and agencies, all fighting shy of repairs, it’s nice not to have that responsibility. Dealing with repairmen (and they usually are men) is a bane of modern life, and it can really get you down. Being called ‘love’ is hardly a hanging offence, but being swindled, fobbed off and treated like an idiot is certainly irksome. For most tenants, it’s just not their problem.
The vagaries of the property market have a different effect. In fact the cyclical boom/bust cycle can sometimes work to our advantage. In a crashing market bourgeois dinner party chatter turns from massive increases in value towards the shameful burden of negative equity, we usually have more security and choice. Owners are unable to liquidise their assets. At this stage in the slump, they should be learning to swallow their pride, and nurture, value, even treasure reliable tenants, at least until the bust ends, when they can revert to type. Unless they go bankrupt, or suddenly sell up (best not think about that.)
Tenants can be bold. We can take risks, live life with a sense of adventure. Renters can take a leap of faith, embarking on career changes that our home owning brethren are loathe to undertake, as we don’t have to sell up, or let our homes, or worry when we are away (except about our stored belongings.) I listen to my home owning friends speak wistfully of plans to travel, downsize or study. These tales of perfectly reasonable dreams usually end with the refrain: “…but then, I’ve got the mortgage.” Property can be a ball and chain.
Some people like not having to own furniture and other fittings. If you are moving around, or broke, or just not interested in homemaking, then having someone responsible for maintenance and furniture is a massive plus.
In truth, nobody really owns a house; it’s a notion, an idea. You can pass property on to your children; that’s if you haven’t sold it to pay for care in your old age. Some of my friends have made a deal with the security devils. Mortgage versus freedom: perhaps only the poor and landless can afford a sense of liberation, and adventure.
Isn’t renting great, though? No; I’m really, really really happy to be tenant. (You don’t believe me, do you?)
As I repeat this mantra, I am rocking slowly backwards and forwards while humming a rousing anthem. Once again, to boost my spirits, and strengthen my resolve: there are many positives.
When horrible neighbours move in, or monstrous, ugly, buildings block a once clear view of the misty mountains in the distance, then we can get the hell out, sharpish. Being able to move quickly on a whim is very liberating. One months notice in writing is all it takes, and with one bound, I am free. No chain, if you’re lucky, and a whole new environment, organised in weeks.
Despite the sloth of landlords, management companies and agencies, all fighting shy of repairs, it’s nice not to have that responsibility. Dealing with repairmen (and they usually are men) is a bane of modern life, and it can really get you down. Being called ‘love’ is hardly a hanging offence, but being swindled, fobbed off and treated like an idiot is certainly irksome. For most tenants, it’s just not their problem.
The vagaries of the property market have a different effect. In fact the cyclical boom/bust cycle can sometimes work to our advantage. In a crashing market bourgeois dinner party chatter turns from massive increases in value towards the shameful burden of negative equity, we usually have more security and choice. Owners are unable to liquidise their assets. At this stage in the slump, they should be learning to swallow their pride, and nurture, value, even treasure reliable tenants, at least until the bust ends, when they can revert to type. Unless they go bankrupt, or suddenly sell up (best not think about that.)
Tenants can be bold. We can take risks, live life with a sense of adventure. Renters can take a leap of faith, embarking on career changes that our home owning brethren are loathe to undertake, as we don’t have to sell up, or let our homes, or worry when we are away (except about our stored belongings.) I listen to my home owning friends speak wistfully of plans to travel, downsize or study. These tales of perfectly reasonable dreams usually end with the refrain: “…but then, I’ve got the mortgage.” Property can be a ball and chain.
Some people like not having to own furniture and other fittings. If you are moving around, or broke, or just not interested in homemaking, then having someone responsible for maintenance and furniture is a massive plus.
In truth, nobody really owns a house; it’s a notion, an idea. You can pass property on to your children; that’s if you haven’t sold it to pay for care in your old age. Some of my friends have made a deal with the security devils. Mortgage versus freedom: perhaps only the poor and landless can afford a sense of liberation, and adventure.
Isn’t renting great, though? No; I’m really, really really happy to be tenant. (You don’t believe me, do you?)
Tuesday, 6 January 2009
If I Ruled The World
As the flat hunting odyssey grows urgent, I’ve decided that I should rule the property world. I’d be reasonable and fair. Here are my decrees:
1 Landlords are obliged to submit to the same credit checks and investigations as their tenants. They should also provide references from former tenants, testifying to their suitability, efficiency and professionalism.
2 For tenancy deposit protection to apply to landlords, who will pay an amount equal to that paid by their tenant into an account, withheld if they are naughty.
3 For there to be a requirement that, in any development aimed at the buy-to-let market, or any scheme that ends up dominated by these tenancies by accident or design, or indeed at all, for the relevant management companies to be compelled to treat tenants as the primary occupier, even if they don’t pay the ground rent.
4 For landlords to pay the council tax. They paid the old style rates. Why was it changed?
5 It is presumed that tenants are able to stay for as long as they pay rent, and that two months notice must be given. However, tenants can give one months notice. Oh, stop whining and snivelling, landlords!
6 For tenants to be allowed, within reason *, decoration rights. It used to be the case that on taking up a tenancy, new residents would be granted one weeks rent free to cover the cost of paint (more on production of reasonable receipts.) No more magnolia, no more greige. Hooray!
* Fuchsia gloss on the walls is not reasonable.
7 For there to be an effective fair rent forum, with tenants encouraged to use it. Landlords are legally prevented from giving notice if the rent is deemed too high, and legally and physically restrained from bleating about it.
8 For all landlords to nominate a caretaker and contractors on duty 24/7. Overseas owners must have a local representative. These representatives or caretakers must respond to urgent repairs within one day, or less in cases of water or gas leaks and the potential explosions, obviously.
9 Rogue owners, such as those who let flats as hotel apartments are deemed to have forfeited the lease. And then tarred and feathered.
10 In the event of forfeiture in the above instance, or bankruptcy, or sale, for it to be presumed that the tenant is a ‘sitting’ tenant, and for notice only to be given to them, well never.
11 Landlords who do not control their tenant’s anti-social or illegal behaviour will be entertained at length in their own home by a crack team of Ethel Merman impersonators who shall perform an avant-garde opera based on the life and works of Celine Dion. Loudly.
12 For Newbuilds to be subject to the approval of a nominated panel, rules set by me, who will not (and I’m telling you, they will not) approve: communal post rooms, no storage, poor sound-proofing, dodgy main doors, thin walls, and shelf-like balconies.
13 For architects to be forced to live in anything they design, and builders what they build, and management companies what they manage, and for their children to live there, and their friends to live there as well.
14 For all developments to have lovely gardens. With flowers.
15 Tenants shall be provided with a wet mackerel, for the purpose of slapping landlords and letting agents to emphasise the following point: “This (slap) is a home (slap) and not (slap) a museum (slap, slap, slappety-slap slap!) That (slap) is wear and tear (slap) and not damage (more slapping…)”
16 The moon is to be given to me on stick, wrapped in a delicate pink silk ribbon.
Thanks!
1 Landlords are obliged to submit to the same credit checks and investigations as their tenants. They should also provide references from former tenants, testifying to their suitability, efficiency and professionalism.
2 For tenancy deposit protection to apply to landlords, who will pay an amount equal to that paid by their tenant into an account, withheld if they are naughty.
3 For there to be a requirement that, in any development aimed at the buy-to-let market, or any scheme that ends up dominated by these tenancies by accident or design, or indeed at all, for the relevant management companies to be compelled to treat tenants as the primary occupier, even if they don’t pay the ground rent.
4 For landlords to pay the council tax. They paid the old style rates. Why was it changed?
5 It is presumed that tenants are able to stay for as long as they pay rent, and that two months notice must be given. However, tenants can give one months notice. Oh, stop whining and snivelling, landlords!
6 For tenants to be allowed, within reason *, decoration rights. It used to be the case that on taking up a tenancy, new residents would be granted one weeks rent free to cover the cost of paint (more on production of reasonable receipts.) No more magnolia, no more greige. Hooray!
* Fuchsia gloss on the walls is not reasonable.
7 For there to be an effective fair rent forum, with tenants encouraged to use it. Landlords are legally prevented from giving notice if the rent is deemed too high, and legally and physically restrained from bleating about it.
8 For all landlords to nominate a caretaker and contractors on duty 24/7. Overseas owners must have a local representative. These representatives or caretakers must respond to urgent repairs within one day, or less in cases of water or gas leaks and the potential explosions, obviously.
9 Rogue owners, such as those who let flats as hotel apartments are deemed to have forfeited the lease. And then tarred and feathered.
10 In the event of forfeiture in the above instance, or bankruptcy, or sale, for it to be presumed that the tenant is a ‘sitting’ tenant, and for notice only to be given to them, well never.
11 Landlords who do not control their tenant’s anti-social or illegal behaviour will be entertained at length in their own home by a crack team of Ethel Merman impersonators who shall perform an avant-garde opera based on the life and works of Celine Dion. Loudly.
12 For Newbuilds to be subject to the approval of a nominated panel, rules set by me, who will not (and I’m telling you, they will not) approve: communal post rooms, no storage, poor sound-proofing, dodgy main doors, thin walls, and shelf-like balconies.
13 For architects to be forced to live in anything they design, and builders what they build, and management companies what they manage, and for their children to live there, and their friends to live there as well.
14 For all developments to have lovely gardens. With flowers.
15 Tenants shall be provided with a wet mackerel, for the purpose of slapping landlords and letting agents to emphasise the following point: “This (slap) is a home (slap) and not (slap) a museum (slap, slap, slappety-slap slap!) That (slap) is wear and tear (slap) and not damage (more slapping…)”
16 The moon is to be given to me on stick, wrapped in a delicate pink silk ribbon.
Thanks!
Monday, 15 December 2008
Forced Landlord? Meet Your Forced Tenant
One indication that you’re properly grown up is having friends who are not only married, but divorced. Now there’s another sign: when your mates are landlords.
I have friends lumbered with houses they can’t sell, and so in the interim, they must let them. It’s not all good. One was shafted by tenants who did a runner owing a fortune in arrears. He’s not a scumbag landlord who ignored repairs; he simply needed to cover his mortgage when he’d been compelled to move.
‘Forced Landlord’ is the slightly melodramatic term for this new and growing phenomenon. Even though I generally write from the tenant’s point of view, it’s still a major cause for concern. One of my friends bought a house at the height of the madness, but now she wants to move.
Several houses carry ‘To Let/For Sale’ boards on her street. It’s not the nicest area in the land: a mix of student HMO’s, family houses and some rough spots. Certain houses are visibly nicer, and judging by the amount of skips blocking the pavement, owners have been doing them up, so they’ll sell or be let first.
Being a landlord is harder than anyone imagines, especially of you aren’t a property magnate by choice. Rents are falling, and fast. Letting agents devour around 15% of rental income (if tenants ask for repairs, they’ll be referred to the owner.)
Even well-intentioned owners who go it alone are frequently ill-informed about new deposit protection schemes, Energy Efficiency Certificates or HMO licences. They are also blithely unprepared for voids, where they must go without rental payments when in between tenancies. As for insurance, burglar alarms, fire precautions and their own repair obligations? Don’t get me started.
The amount of forced tenants is also increasing. They want to sell their house but can’t, so they let it, and rent temporarily while house-hunting to avoid a chain. Do not mess with them. They know exactly what they want, which is never a shabby hovel that owner never got round to refurbishing, but a safe, empty, clean, neutral-toned, well-insulated family home.
Landlords with only vague memories of their own student renting experience may have bought a draughty wreck and filled it with cracked vinyl sofas and crusty unsprung mattresses. It’s not good enough for anyone, let alone the children who might live there.
Forced landlords might be happier if they saw tenants as long-term house-sitters, and cast aside any resentment that the property conveyor-belt has stalled. They’d also benefit from treating tenants not as trespassers (that’s how bad landlords still regard those unfortunates kind enough to safeguard their mortgage and underwrite their pension) but creatures after their own image, in similar circumstances, and to cherish that thought.
Ultimately, this craziness is creating an absurd carousel of owners renting property to residents who in turn own a house that they are also renting out to another home-owner. To rejig a childhood rhyme:
“Tall landlords have small landlords
Upon their backs to bite ‘em
Stuck landlords have broke landlords
And so on, infinitum.”
I have friends lumbered with houses they can’t sell, and so in the interim, they must let them. It’s not all good. One was shafted by tenants who did a runner owing a fortune in arrears. He’s not a scumbag landlord who ignored repairs; he simply needed to cover his mortgage when he’d been compelled to move.
‘Forced Landlord’ is the slightly melodramatic term for this new and growing phenomenon. Even though I generally write from the tenant’s point of view, it’s still a major cause for concern. One of my friends bought a house at the height of the madness, but now she wants to move.
Several houses carry ‘To Let/For Sale’ boards on her street. It’s not the nicest area in the land: a mix of student HMO’s, family houses and some rough spots. Certain houses are visibly nicer, and judging by the amount of skips blocking the pavement, owners have been doing them up, so they’ll sell or be let first.
Being a landlord is harder than anyone imagines, especially of you aren’t a property magnate by choice. Rents are falling, and fast. Letting agents devour around 15% of rental income (if tenants ask for repairs, they’ll be referred to the owner.)
Even well-intentioned owners who go it alone are frequently ill-informed about new deposit protection schemes, Energy Efficiency Certificates or HMO licences. They are also blithely unprepared for voids, where they must go without rental payments when in between tenancies. As for insurance, burglar alarms, fire precautions and their own repair obligations? Don’t get me started.
The amount of forced tenants is also increasing. They want to sell their house but can’t, so they let it, and rent temporarily while house-hunting to avoid a chain. Do not mess with them. They know exactly what they want, which is never a shabby hovel that owner never got round to refurbishing, but a safe, empty, clean, neutral-toned, well-insulated family home.
Landlords with only vague memories of their own student renting experience may have bought a draughty wreck and filled it with cracked vinyl sofas and crusty unsprung mattresses. It’s not good enough for anyone, let alone the children who might live there.
Forced landlords might be happier if they saw tenants as long-term house-sitters, and cast aside any resentment that the property conveyor-belt has stalled. They’d also benefit from treating tenants not as trespassers (that’s how bad landlords still regard those unfortunates kind enough to safeguard their mortgage and underwrite their pension) but creatures after their own image, in similar circumstances, and to cherish that thought.
Ultimately, this craziness is creating an absurd carousel of owners renting property to residents who in turn own a house that they are also renting out to another home-owner. To rejig a childhood rhyme:
“Tall landlords have small landlords
Upon their backs to bite ‘em
Stuck landlords have broke landlords
And so on, infinitum.”
Tuesday, 23 October 2007
He Sweeps, He Cleans, He Rules Dovecot Towers
Dovecot Towers is patrolled by a mysterious cleaning contractor who moves down the corridors with ghostly stealth. Working discreetly and quietly, he has a habit of appearing behind me when I least expect, a bit like Mr Benn.
He’s the man who knows. Always hoovering, mopping or doing something clever and strange like polishing wooden doors with baby oil, he says I am (what he describes as) one of the few ‘normal’ people in the building. I take this as a compliment.
Certain other tenants treat him like a servant. He’s been summoned haughtily to the penthouses as if he is their butler. For some strange reason, he is expected to haul large packages and even their shopping up several flights of stairs whenever the lifts are broken.
I have the impression that secretly, he runs the place. He’s taught me all I know about the true nature of Dovecot Towers. I discovered that the car park is owned by one person, the structure by another company, while individual landlords own the flats, with a separate business responsible for the maintenance of Dovecot Towers in its entirety. As he told me this, he was carrying huge sacks of leaking rubbish, having just removed dogs mess from the lift.
Whilst diligently mopping up some beer thrown around the foyer’s walls and surfaces, he explained that many of the flats are owned by foreign investors, who don’t pay much attention to the maintenance of their property. He agrees that one day, Dovecot Towers will be a slum (and that it’s already 75% there). He says he’s scared to scrub too hard, as some of the surfaces could crumble, and the structure is so dainty that even dusting could knock it down.
I don’t envy him. He spends his day being abused and mocked. He empties the bin rooms of maggot infested rubbish in the summer. There isn’t enough money in the world to compensate him for the filth he sees, or the snide comments he tolerates. Britain has a caste system; cleaners are de facto untouchables, decreed to be disgusting by association, designated a lower form of life by the same people who leave suppurating detritus, bodily humours and rubbish for him to clear.
Despite polite requests, tenants persist in dumping bed frames, and other heavy discarded furniture for him to dispose of (why not ask and then give him a hand?) They’ve obviously confused him with a porter, and a bin man, but they should beware: he has secret powers. One word to him and noisy neighbours are mysteriously silenced. Some are never seen again…
He’s only a cleaner after all; just the man who gathers shards of broken glass every Monday morning. He’s a servant who mops up vomit, and sweeps away the fag ends. Funnily enough, he owns the cleaning company, and makes a decent living from cleaning up filth. Certain hoity-toity, high and mighty residents actually have the audacity to believe they’re better than he is. Fine sentiments indeed from people who piss on the floor.
He’s the man who knows. Always hoovering, mopping or doing something clever and strange like polishing wooden doors with baby oil, he says I am (what he describes as) one of the few ‘normal’ people in the building. I take this as a compliment.
Certain other tenants treat him like a servant. He’s been summoned haughtily to the penthouses as if he is their butler. For some strange reason, he is expected to haul large packages and even their shopping up several flights of stairs whenever the lifts are broken.
I have the impression that secretly, he runs the place. He’s taught me all I know about the true nature of Dovecot Towers. I discovered that the car park is owned by one person, the structure by another company, while individual landlords own the flats, with a separate business responsible for the maintenance of Dovecot Towers in its entirety. As he told me this, he was carrying huge sacks of leaking rubbish, having just removed dogs mess from the lift.
Whilst diligently mopping up some beer thrown around the foyer’s walls and surfaces, he explained that many of the flats are owned by foreign investors, who don’t pay much attention to the maintenance of their property. He agrees that one day, Dovecot Towers will be a slum (and that it’s already 75% there). He says he’s scared to scrub too hard, as some of the surfaces could crumble, and the structure is so dainty that even dusting could knock it down.
I don’t envy him. He spends his day being abused and mocked. He empties the bin rooms of maggot infested rubbish in the summer. There isn’t enough money in the world to compensate him for the filth he sees, or the snide comments he tolerates. Britain has a caste system; cleaners are de facto untouchables, decreed to be disgusting by association, designated a lower form of life by the same people who leave suppurating detritus, bodily humours and rubbish for him to clear.
Despite polite requests, tenants persist in dumping bed frames, and other heavy discarded furniture for him to dispose of (why not ask and then give him a hand?) They’ve obviously confused him with a porter, and a bin man, but they should beware: he has secret powers. One word to him and noisy neighbours are mysteriously silenced. Some are never seen again…
He’s only a cleaner after all; just the man who gathers shards of broken glass every Monday morning. He’s a servant who mops up vomit, and sweeps away the fag ends. Funnily enough, he owns the cleaning company, and makes a decent living from cleaning up filth. Certain hoity-toity, high and mighty residents actually have the audacity to believe they’re better than he is. Fine sentiments indeed from people who piss on the floor.
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