Robert was working himself into a frenzy, dialling and redialling Fiona, when the doorbell chimed.
Answering it, I found a funny looking little man in flat cap and overalls, like you'd see in an old fashioned hardware store. Halfway down the garden path, he was looking at the roof.
“Evenin' missus, I was just passing and couldn't help notice you've got trouble. Nasty piece of work.”
“What trouble?”
“That” he said, pointing. Looking up, the roof seemed funny, like the edges weren't solid.
“What is that?”
“Existential Smear, quite severe. Mind if I come in?”
