Page 42 of Where Do We Go From Here?
‘Well, I am here to help, Wendy. Let’s have a look and see what we can do,’ he says, following her through the gate.
Wendy feels tearful again, but this time it’s in relief that the man speaks such perfect English.
‘Thank you,’ she says. ‘The electricity keeps going off, and there’s no hot water either. And I also crashed my car, so everything’s basically bloody awful.’
‘Gosh, that does sound bloody awful,’ he says. ‘We’ll have to see if we can sort at least some of that out.’
‘Your English…’ she comments, as they step indoors. ‘It’s excellent.’ His accent is so vague as to be unidentifiable.
‘Well, I’m from Sweden,’ he explains, smiling as he removes his coat. ‘Unlike the English, we have to be good at languages. Because no one else on the planet ever eventriesto learn Swedish.’
It turns out that Erik can’t do much about Wendy’s electrical problems nor indeed her lack of hot water. The only thing he can do is explain, which he does, in painful detail.
The short version – the version Erik does not choose, the version that someone with the ability to summarise would give – is that there are two panels on the roof heating the hot water when the sun is out and nine others charging the battery – also when the sun is out. And when (she should be so lucky) the battery is full, the excess electricity heats the hot water further still.
Wendy’s problems stem from multiple facts, namely a) no one has ever rented the cabin all winter before so no one knew it wouldn’t work out, and b) she and Jill not only emptied the battery with the stupid blow heater, but also drained all the hot water (Jill did spend an extremely long time in the shower) and c) there is still snow on the roof obscuring the solar panels she’s depending on to recharge everything.
‘I really do think that if you can be careful for two, maybe three days – you know, not use too much hot water, not use too much electricity – then the battery will fill again, and everything will be fine,’ Erik says.
‘I do understand,’ Wendy says, ‘but it’s not really good enough, is it? I paid 900 euros a month to stay here, and that was supposed to include electricity. No one ever mentioned quotas.’
‘You are right,’ Erik says. ‘It is not good enough. This is why Florence will refund 20 per cent of your… um… you know… the money you have paid.’
‘My rent.’
‘Yes, that’s it. Your rent.’
‘Oh,’ Wendy says. She’d prepped herself to slowly go ballistic, had been mentally listing all the reasons this situation was making her life intolerable, and steeling herself to progressively raise her voice. Erik’s offer has knocked the wind out of her sails.
‘Sorry, but are we talking about 20 per cent of theentirefee?’ Wendy asks, hunting for the catch. ‘For the whole six months?’
‘Yes, it comes to thirty-six days, I believe. She will refund that to you today, if you agree.’
‘Oh,’ Wendy says, mentally totting up how much that will represent. It’s about a thousand pounds.
‘This is OK for you?’
‘Well, I suppose,’ Wendy concedes. ‘As long as theelectricity does start working again. Because I can’t really live here without it.’
‘Of course. But we think it will. This is what the engineer – you had a man come to check the system, yes? – well, this is what he says. Two or three days, being careful.’
‘OK,’ Wendy says. ‘Well, I can try. But if it doesn’t sort itself out I will have to leave early.’
‘Of course. Now your car…’ Erik says. ‘You say you are having an accident?’
‘Yes. Well, more just slid off the road, really. On the snow. It’s in a ditch down the way.’
‘So how can I help you with that?’
Wendy sighs deeply and recounts her attempts at calling the hire company: how they always pass her to the breakdown division who then transfer her back to the insurance division, who then attempt to transfer her to an English-speaking insurance assessor, at which point nothing further happens. ‘Then I’m on hold for like half an hour until the line goes dead.’
‘How French!’ Erik says with a wry smile. ‘Maybe I can call them for you?Withyou, I mean.’ An offer which produces a fresh welling up of tears.
‘Yes!’ Wendy says. ‘Yes, please!’
The phone call is as torturous as Erik is methodical and patient. But the news when it finally arrives – that nothing can happen until an insurance assessor has seen the car, and that this can’t happen until a new different kind of breakdown truck has taken the car to a Renault garage, and that this can’t happen either until the snow encasing the car has melted – is not good.
‘Can they at least lend me another car?’ Wendy asks.
