Something In The Roof Space .....

  So, I got a call from Phil', landlady of my local, to say something about someone had a problem. Probably rats or mice. Could she put them onto me; The Rat Catcher?

  I said fine. So, next I'm talking to some bloke who, whilst he obviously knew me by sight, I didn't know him, by name. What ever. Seems it was some girl who had the bother. He was calling on her behalf.

  And her problem was, apparently, that she had a brown stain on her ceiling and there was a horrible smell. Urgh! This didn't sound too clever.

  Now, being brutally honest; Between my now towering deafness, his vocal cadence and the phone? I was really only picking up the pieces of what this guy was trying to tell me.

  What I came away with was something to the effect that she  had this stinking stain. She was in town and he had or hadn't had a look and had, either way, found nothing.

  Enter The Professional ..... It seems this girl is now working away, so he has the key and is to let me in. The room in question is upstairs in a rented property.

  Even as I'm climbing the stairs, I'm noting  every little detail. I always do this, on a job. I'm like " Forensics " at a crime scene. 

  Evaluating when the carpet was last hoovered. Noting that spot of flaking paint, up there. Getting a feel for the situation. Might there be rats? Could a pine marten have gotten in here?

  Then, I was in the bathroom. Fuck me!!!  The stain was there alright. About a foot long. Half as wide. Nasty shade of brown. I didn't like that.

  But, the bang in the place! I must admit; My mind was reeling. This just didn't compute! 

  There was this vile looking stain on the ceiling. Check. Something rat sized, well and truly rotting down and turning to gravy, could make that. ('Lovely'!)

  But, I'm getting the terrible bang of cheesy socks, or something. Perfectly unlike the breath catching, 'sweet' smell of rotten rat.

  I'm half conscious of glancing round the bathroom. Noting that it appears tidy and clean. And yet, I can smell minging old knickers, or something!

  And here comes the bloke, with the ladders. I must not mention musty old underwear! Professionalism! I don't even know this girl!

  So, I told him. Yep; That's one nasty looking stain alright. I didn't like the bang either! Revolting! And now ..... I was gonna go up there and look at what ever was causing it .....

  Ladders up. Ye man gripping them like Sampson. I climbed a few steps and put my hand against the roof hatch. Looking down, so as to avoid the inevitable downfall of grit and dust into my eyes.

  Nothing leapt down at me. Scuttled away.  Screeched or hissed. Thank fuck. Nor did an overwhelming cloud of nauseating stench waft out.

  Flicking on my light, I said I was going to look at what was causing that brown stain. (Wish me luck!) A few more, slow and careful, steps. My head inched above the rim of the hatch. I stared toward where the stain maker must lay .....

  And started pissing myself in disbelieving laughter! That's what I love about this job; Ye just Never know what the fuck's gonna turn up next!

  See? I had the stain. Big patch of gravy, soaking through the ceiling. I had the females bathroom. Perfectly clean and tidy. Yet, I had this god awful, nose burning, musty smell. Not decaying flesh and guts. But ..... What?!

  

  How about a half gallon container of fucking Creosote, up there in the roof space, leaking! 

  Couldn't make this stuff up, could ye?! See? " I've got a dead rat in my loft! " And ye expecting a stain and a stink. Young womans bathroom? Ye expecting flowery smells. 

  Creosote? That's a smell we associate with garden fences and sheds, in the summer. Smell That in a bathroom, in autumn, and it just doesn't click!

  Oh well. A bloody good laugh was had and now I suppose a girl can sleep sound in her bed, knowing there's nothing up there.