"Just a minute dear... I'm just up the step-ladder... dammit, dropped me Nokia... Aggghhhhhh!"

I'm okay, I'm okay...just a minute, I'm stuck... but, I'm okay.

Why Mrs T has to phone me when I'm in the middle of such a delicate job I do not know - I told her I was going to disconnect every other light - save on the electric bill - and she knows I suffer with vertigo.

I was removing the bulbs you see - it's the easiest way to disconnect them... take the bulb out... it is a bit tricky, 'cos you can't switch the lights off - you wouldn't be able to see - and they do get hot.

And she phones me while I'm at the top of the ladder juggling a red-hot spotlight bulb held delicately in the fingers of one hand, the heat being deflected by a thick tea-towel, while holding onto the top of the steps with the other hand and trying to do that cool thing with my cell-phone, pressing it against my head with the top of my shoulder. I was doing fine until the phone slipped... then the bulb slipped... into my palm... left a lovely circular singed bit in the middle of my lifeline... and when I started hopping about, in pain like, the steps closed up and I fell onto the adjacent worktop ending up with my posterior wedged firmly in a Franke Undermount.

I've been trying to get free for an hour and a quarter!

Oh no - that's the door-bell - why now... I mean, why now, it hasn't rung for a fortnight and now somebody comes in when I'm... gruuuunt... no good... I'm stuck fast.

Goodness knows what it will look like.

Ah, it's the lady from the big house, I did her kitchen a year or two ago: "Hello. Over here. No. It's okay, it's not what you think - I'm stuck."
Lovely woman, her kitchen went like a dream, she's offered to help and.... gruuunt... 'Pop'... that's it, I'm free, "yes, hello, thanks for the pull, how can I help, new bathroom - bedroom perhaps, or do you want a home Cinema, they're all the thing, surround sound, retractable screen, much better than any 72in Plasma you could get from Currys - we'll fit it into some bespoke furniture, have it done in a week or two."

"Oh. A new Washing Machine. In the Utility. That's freestanding. I don't do freestanding."

She's telling me that she likes the brand I fitted in her kitchen, she's had no trouble with it at all, Germany's finest. She wants the top of the range. She's seen it on a website.

"1600 spin speed, that's right, it's so efficient the draught from the spinning drum will dry the washing hanging on your next door neighbour's line at the same time.... No, that was just my attempt at a joke. Yes. Yes, they are well over a thousand pounds. And you want me to fit it do you? You do. Ah, the trouble is - I've laid the lads off - and to get them back, just for a washing machine, well...."

I wish she'd hurry up and go away, I'll have bruises and I'm sure my cheeks are swelling and these trousers are a bit old, something might give. What's she waiting for?

"What do you mean am I busy - what's that got to do with anything? No, no, it's, well, you see you need an electrical store, a free-standing washing machine is white goods - I don't do white goods. I'm complete kitchens.... or utility rooms, I could do the whole utility room - new cupboards, new sink, tap, integrated washer and I'll do you a deal on the installation.

"Ah. You just want a washing machine - delivered and fitted - you don't care how much it costs - sorry - try the electrical store opposite - he'll have something in stock - bye".

Now, where did my phone end up? I'm going to ring Mrs T, when I tell her what's happened - she'll have my backside in a sling in no time.