MOP AND BUCKET

Wasn’t going to the laundry this morning because I’m not well. A dose of flu I think’s the one I had a few weeks ago and not got over and been keeping at bay since then but now it’s come out again. But I did go and the usual laundry colleagues were there - Godmother and HH.
The older caretaker from yesterday in the lift came in took a mop and bucket out the storeroom went to the porcelain sink turned the hot tap on and looked behind the washers said, ‘how do they get it behind here?’
‘About eighty percent of people here are stupid,’ said HH.
I wallked over couldn’t see anything especially out of place. Godmother watched her laundry go round in the dryers.
Caretaker climbed behind the washers said, ‘I’m not supposed to do this, the Union says we’re not supposed to but I’m not a member of the Union.’
He picked up what sounded like, as he put it on top of one of the washers, a piece of black plastic and looked the width and length of a large finger. Then he started mopping.
‘Must be half the people live here,’ he said, ‘are idiots...the state of this...how do they do it?’
He climbed back out the side he went in walked round the front began poking the mop along the gap between the wall and left hand side of the machines forcing it below a lagged pipe set a few inches off the floor.
When he finished he emptied the bucket and put it and the mop back in the storeroom, locked the door, picked up his paper folded over the side of the playpen and left the laundry.
Godmother caught my eye and made a zipping motion across her mouth. Over by the extractor I wondered what it was all about looking at a puddle of water on the floor and HH said, ‘he only came in here because there’s a site inspection this morning.’