We've been housesitting on and off for 5 years now. And along with pets, we care for a bunch of old, and often very eccentric, houses with little quirks that we've learned to acclimatise to quickly.
Which is why, when a lovely British crime fiction author drove up to meet us in person for the first time yesterday and needed to use the loo, we directed him upstairs and forgot to tell him "Whatever you do, DO NOT pull the toilet door fully shut or you'll be trapped in there for all eternity."
So... anyway... Last night, we locked a famous British crime fiction author, who we'd just met, in the loo and had to completely dismantle the door...
Being British and of the stiff upper lip variety, he did not yell or try and beat the door down.
In fact, it took me looking at the clock after THIRTY FREAKIN' MINUTES and saying "He's been a little while--OH FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK" at the top of my voice and sprinting to the top of the stairs to hear the odd plaintive rattle, while Tony went to find a screwdriver.
I would like to state categorically, that we did not deliberately try and lock a beloved British author in our bathroom. It's the house's fault. Not ours. Honestly. I haven't even read Stephen King's Misery the whole way through!
(I'm not really sure he believed us, but he let us buy him dinner at the pub to make up for it, so that's okay I guess.)
As a frequent house sitter, I can attest to the quirky housing stock.
At each new house sitting gig, I ask the owner to show me how they unlock and open their front door, along with other seemingly odd but necessary questions.
#HouseSitting in the UK