I've been feeling a little wary of lifts recently, following the charming little tale that posted a couple of days ago.

Just took the lift down to the canteen on the lower ground floor (one slice of eggy bread, for those interested). For the second day running, the lift echoed with the sound of water running down the shaft. There was an engineer in it yesterday, riding up and down with a look of blissful unconcern on his face. I mentioned the water to him and he said: “Ah, well, there's a pump at the bottom that usually takes care of it.”

Usually? Usually?

That really inspires confidence.

I'm glad I never need to go one floor further to the basement – I can't help wondering if I'd be knee-deep in water the moment the doors opened if I did.