We have a leak in the kitchen, under the sink.
We’ve had a leak in the kitchen, under the sink, for a while. But it has no consistency to it whatsoever. Well, no, that’s a lie. Because we consistently can’t work out where the frick the water is coming from.
Since the boiler was fitted last week, we emptied out the cupboard under the sink to allow access to pipes and such like and – being the cunning soul I am – I haven’t put anything back yet so that I can see very pipe, bend, join, flange and other words that I don’t understand under there in a bid to solve this mystery.
It’s been four days now.
I am no closer.
I have spent a decent portion of the day sitting on the kitchen floor staring into the cupboard while running taps, emptying sinks full of water and the like in a bid to work out what is happening. I even had a headtorch on so that I could see everywhere. I probably looked like someone had made a novelty Buddha torch.
Not a sausage.
Or any water.
No drips, drops, splashes or trickles.
Close the door. Leave the kitchen. Do something else for a bit. Go back. Open the cupboard again.
If Jeremy Beadle wasn’t dead, I’d think he was out taking the piss for some sort of hidden camera show.
So it looks like I get to do the same again for a bit tomorrow. I’ll find this leak if it’s the last thing I ever do.