Julian and I decided to have a conservatory built on the back of the house, recently. We contacted four conservatory builders – a couple of nation-wide manufacturers, another which builds reasonably locally but Kent-wide and a local one to Thanet which had been recommended by a friend.
The designs and what they provided were similar but the highest and lowest prices differed by over £20,000! The two middle prices were a little above the bottom price and way less than the top price.
In the end we went with the least expensive because that company is local, they could start soonest, we like the one they did for my friend and it saved us quite a lot of money!
Yesterday morning the phone rang early. It was Dave S****d from our builder telling me that he would be coming round later with his ‘groundsman’ who will be doing some demolition, breaking up concrete and digging trenches, then building the ‘footings’ and the little brick walls that the frame will be sitting on. He said they would be starting next Tuesday, after the Bank Holiday. I said, “Oh, that’s great!” and, “See you later.”
Several hours later the door-bell rang. Julian, knowing what I had been told earlier, invited the young man in and took him out to the back. The young man then mentioned a ‘Victorian lean-to greenhouse’ which Julian corrected. I joined them outside and chatted with the young man who seemed a little puzzled. He said he’d have to show his dad the plot and that his dad only lives around the corner so they’d be back soon.
Back they came an hour or so later and we stood chatting about the conservatory. Julian said something about not understanding what it was they were actually doing here and I piped up saying they were here because Dave S****d had sent them at which point the older man said, “No, you rang me earlier to come about a lean-to greenhouse. We don’t work for Dave S****d, never have!”
To tell you the truth, I felt I had entered an alternative universe and stared at the two men. Eventually, I told them that I hadn’t rung them and asked if they were certain that they were at the right address, no. 21 S——d Rd. Yes, that was the right address. Then they told us our phone number – only it wasn’t our phone number!
The two groundsmen went off to find out what the correct address was and I sat in stupefied silence going over and over the whole thing in my head.
At 4:30 Dave S****d and his groundsman arrived. They, too, found the whole incident very strange.
I wonder whether the two men who came to our house got the job.