24 November

I have forwarded the builder’s written objection to the unnecessary steel beam (plus photos) to the Italian engineer. Meanwhile, downstairs there is a constant rhythmic heavy hammering. Yesterday evening Bartek and Sebastian were on their knees (from exhaustion will come later, I feel sure) laying a visual template for the first level of the new floor right at the bottom. Level 1: hardcore; level 2: concrete slab; level 3: insulation; level four: wood.

Crucial to get the floor flat – what a novelty! To this end they had sunk a series of iron pins into the ground, and from a chosen wooden upright sent a red beam of light across from pin to pin, marking each point, fixing them with red string, criss-crossing the floor.  

The point the hardcore should reach having been set, level 1 has to be made of smashed up bricks…smashed by hand, that is. I am appalled. It’s what convicts had to do, isn’t it, in old prison films. I emailed the builder. Is there no other way for them to create the hardcore? No machine they can use? Back came the reply. ‘No. This is how we do it.’ We. Hm.

I offered them tea and commiserations. They cheerfully declined both.

I have now had instructions for the first time not to go to the lower ground floor at all. It’s no longer safe. I know builders who would have forbidden entry weeks ago. So now, to get to the garden to sweep the remaining two leaves and see to the feeding of the worms, I will go down from the top, from the balcony steps.

It looks like the Italian engineer has won this round. No steel, no new window. Do we care? We do not. Unlike Cameron, May, Gove and you name them, we always had a plan B. Instead of double doors there will be a single door and a full height window next to it without altering the space.

Meanwhile, Bartek and Sebastian have laid all the hardcore, hand-smashing bricks all day long. They must be totally knackered. What are they going to do this evening? They're going to play football with the boss, Bartek's first outing since he wrecked his elbow five weeks ago. I suggest that maybe yoga might be less dangerous and more relaxing. You should see their faces, and hear the derisive chuckles. I have their best interests at heart. Of course I do. But I'd also quite like them not to be injured...again.