Not a Pot to “P” in!!!

“Duas semanhas” two weeks they said, mais o menos, more or less, so I gave it three! Three weeks in which to rip out the old and put in the new bathroom. I could have moved up to the villa for the first week, but I had prepared that for my holiday guests and it meant going to and fro, no doubt forgetting vitals such as clean “shreddies” or the marmite! So I stayed in the cottage with a bucket and bag secreted in the corner of my bedroom for use in emergencies!! Their enthusiasm was inspiring as they drilled into the central wall with the aim of creating a 60cm alcove to accommodate the roll-top bath. I left at the end of week 1, the house covered in a fine layer of dust and what was a bathroom was a shell filled with rubble; the loo, bath, basin and bidet lay discarded amongst the flower tubs on the sunny terrace.

See you in three weeks then chaps!

With great anticipation I arrived back to a sunny Portugal and to my little Casita. As soon as I opened the front door I knew. Dumping the suitcase I flew down the narrow corridor and stood in dismay at the empty room that should have been a wet room/bathroom. The roll-top bath sat provocatively in my bedroom, still in its protective wrapping. The P-pot and bags in the corner stood as a reminder of what I was to endure for the next few days.

Gentlemen, never underestimate the wrath of a woman scorned!!

Gone is the patient, easy-going, jovial and considerate client. After a restless night my humour was not encouraged by the sound of gunpowder blasting in the neighbour’s garden as, at 8am in broad daylight, he lit a number of fireworks to mark the beginning of the Festa weekend – only in Portugal would one expect the beauty of fireworks to be blighted by the sun!! It was warm and sunny, the village was preparing for Festa de Santa Maria, it was a holiday, but I was out for the kill. In the cheekiest of cut-down denim shorts, the tiniest T-shirt, the highest espadrilles, Dior sunglasses and Revlon lipstick Cruela-de-Ville was ready for action! The cabriolet screeched to a dusty halt at the entrance to the café where I knew they would be taking their morning bica. Throwing open the driver’s door, one elongated tanned leg holding it open, I cast my Diors in their direction, the smile upon my lips was not the smile they were accustomed to. I did not have to beckon, they knew! Downing their coffees to the laughter and banter of their companions, they approached gingerly, and, with sheepish grins they got in and we sped back to the offence that was supposed to be my new bathroom.

The excuses came as I knew they would, the air was blue their faces crimson. Holiday was cancelled. They knew instinctively that if this job was not complete by the weekend, they were fodder for this bitch, their carcasses would be strewn across the vineyard below and their brains and balls (inseparable as they are, working under the same license) would be strung up alongside the hotdogs at the epicentre of the village fete!! Super-Mario the carpenter arrived ten minutes after my call and he began work on the tongue and groove immediately. The tiling on floor and walls had been complete, the open wiring indicated the electrician had done his job, but the utilities still lay where they had been placed three weeks ago now covered in dust, leaves and dead flies and under which a little mouse had built his home. I stood watch as Mario-the-builder and his nephew returned to their respective jobs of grouting and painting. The plumber was called and by the afternoon of the following day his job was done. Now the lady has a pot to “P” in, Cruella has retired, and the genteel client has seen the lads on their way with a case of beer tucked under arm.

The candles, reflecting in the mirror, flicker in the steam, a misty glass of chilled Krug in one hand, Tom Clancy in the other, serenaded by the Three Tenors I slide deeper into the creamy bubbles allowing the warm water to soothe away the stresses of the past weeks. This is how I envisaged it to be! Now all that is needed is a 6ft, broad chest Adonis to top up the champagne glass…aha! I hear the door bell!!!