The Money Pit

It took my nan roughly five decades to wreck our three-floor, semi-detached house in Ramsgate. She managed this by employing a series of people she met down the pub to do jobs they weren’t exactly qualified to take on.

She employed a window-cleaner to completely redecorate the house, a task that resulted in him covering all the internal walls with wood panelling in a chaotic mess that honestly looked like the work of a deranged cultist attempting to build some sort of shrine to a dark god. The rooms on the third storey were the worst, as he clearly ran out of wood and ended up hammering random squares and misshapen cut-outs to cover empty gaps. It was like living on the inside of a jigsaw puzzle. I was once interviewed by The Times newspaper for an article called ‘The Geek Gets Even’ where the reporter described the house as a dwelling with ‘creepy wood veneer walls.’ He wasn’t wrong.