Last night there were two holes. Now there are four. The biggest hole is where they've removed the bay, which was a misconceived, mid-century addition to the kitchen. It was better-made than I'd have guessed and absorbed a lot of lump hammering and crowbarring before it fell. Earlier we'd escaped to Sainsbury's, strolled the aisles, had a mid-morning drink. When we got back Mr Yousaf waved a perished wire under my nose. His plumber had uncovered it in the bay, behind the cupboard under the sink. It looked like it had been gnawed. So that's why our electrics have been so dodgy lately; it's all down to that rat who moved in last year- briefly- the one who ate his way out through the window frame. We've been lucky not to be burned alive or electrocuted.