Secret Service: EPISODE 25

Perfect Retirement Housing Complex

Inner Hamlet

CORSETTSHIRE  Qy4 2PN

My Dear Ralph

I woke up this morning feeling, as usual, somewhat distant from the light.  When Perfect was designing these bedsits, I don't know how they ever imagined people could sleep in windowless cubicles at least 5m distant from the sitting room windows.  Frankly pet, it is like being wheeled into the mortuary drawer every night!  I must say that the elderly here have amazing powers of fortitude to be able to go on living, year after year, in such circumstances.

I do believe I was going to say one or two words about Perfect's response to our 'flat roof' letter, wasn't I dear?  Well this missive arrived and Pom-Pom and I eagerly tore open the envelope.  Inside was a pleasantly-worded piece from a Complex Performance Manager, who assured us that Our Leader had done everything humanly possible to investigate our complaint.  Well Pom-Pom and I exchanged one or two words over that, I can assure you pet!  I must say that the letter writer's reference to the 'mild spring weather' we experience in May and June, caused Pom-Pom and I some hours of hilarity.  'Mild spring weather!'  We don't know what part of the country the Complex Performance Manager is residing in, but it certainly isn't anywhere near here!  You can certainly rely on Perfect never to properly address residents' complaints or exercise any initiative.  Anyone else dear, would have been beavering away investigating the topic of 'the cooling effects of roof gardens on flat roofs' etc.

Some while after this, Pom-Pom and I decided that our next step would be to ask Our Leader to instal wall thermometers on each floor, with the aim of investigating the size of the problem posed by this roof.  It seemed politic not to go ourselves this time, and so we coached our neighbour Gruntle (who also moans loudly every summer about  the temperature) on the subject of this thermometer request.  Luckily, Our Leader was in the presence of the Complex Performance Manager on this occasion and Gruntle secured a result!  Eventually, and I do mean months pet, tiny plastic thermometers did appear on the corridor walls.  Pom-Pom and I surmised that these items were probably procured from Woolworths!  And, one day, when we came in together and were standing by the lift - situated in unfortunate proximity to the lounge - we heard Mrs Brownie's voice emerging from the gloom, enquiring whether or not we'd observed said thermometers.  Well pet, before we had a chance to muster a reply, Our Leader's voice came blasting through the doorway: 'WHAT DO WE NEED THERMOMETERS FOR?  WE KNOW IT'S HOT!'  Dear me pet!  What does one say?  Poor Pom-Pom and I crawled gratefully in through the lift doors as they opened and, fanning ourselves against a wall, ascended to the (relative) safety of our rooms.

Yours

Aunt Agatha