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LANDLORD'S DIARY.

Began 17th December:

It always happens just when the weather gets considerably colder, boilers pack up and gas men are as hard to find as reliable tenants. Today the old back boiler at my rental property in Royal Street has just been condemned by the CORGI gas man. I knew it had probably seen better days when I first purchased the house but it did pass all the required gas safety checks last year.

"Dirty great hole in your boiler love; all corroded, not safe at all - could have blown your tenants sky high," says Terry the gas man.

Well that's one way of getting rid of them I suppose. I don't particularly like them and I don't think they like me. They never ask me to sit down when I call and not once have they offered me a cup of tea. It's like I'm just an imposition. On the one occasion, on a hot summer's day, when I requested a drink of water it was offered to me in a mug with no handle. Maybe they're just plain ignorant. I liked them to begin with but that's how it goes, the situation gradually deteriorates every time you call in the hope of collecting some rent.

"I'll put in a brand new combination boiler" Terry continues, "but it won't be until after Christmas and you'll have to have a new fire in the dining room too, because the existing fire only works with the boiler." A few days later he rings to tell me the price: "Two thousand quid plus Vat...that OK?"

Do I have a choice?

My tenants won't be happy either with a cold snap forecast for Christmas - but why should I care? After all they aren't paying me the twenty pounds a week make-up rent. Let them freeze, decrees my mean streak as I start singing: "In the Bleak Mid-Winter," to myself on the way home, but my altruistic side wins in the end and I detour to Focus to buy two plug-in convector heaters. The tenants still have the immersion for the hot water, plus a living flame fire in the lounge (which did pass the gas inspection) so with the help of the portable heaters they'll still have some quality of life over the holiday period.

They are a dreadful pair, these tenants of mine, Kelly and Stewart, although they seemed a presentable young couple when I first met them. They seemed eager to set up home together and I was willing to give them that chance. Now they've become the bane of my life. Stewart has a perpetual glazed look in his eyes whenever I call. He is claiming disability but looks able-bodied enough to me and Kelly seems to think the whole world owes her a living.

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