A PEER AND HIS PLUMBING PAINS

Broadcaster and author rachel Johnson (left), 55, lives in somerset with her husband, ivo, 68. A FEW summers ago, I invited some old friends — one a member of the House of Lords — to stay for a long weekend.

They had found the conditions ‘primitive’ on their last visit, but I promised we’d really pushed the boat out on the home improvements since then.

‘It’s almost habitable,’ I assured them, as I outlined the rebuilding of the asbestos-ridden extension, the lifting of the ceiling in the kitchen so you could stand up and — best of all — the installation of a downstairs loo, giving guests a choice of no less than three

WCs (though none en suite). Unfortunately, the noble Lord clearly hadn’t got the memo that he and the lady wife would still not have their own bathroom.

He went white when we showed him back to his old bedchamber, and even whiter when Ivo said: ‘Here’s your bathroom . . . and still my bathroom and everyone else’s bathroom, ha ha!

‘By the way, as I warned in my email, unfortunately we’re in the middle of a drought, and as we’re on private supply, there’s almost an ablutions ban.’

Nothing was said on day one, but by day two his pinched face and muttered asides to his wife suggested there was trouble at t’mill. In the hope of easing the problem, we all agreed the downstairs lavatory was to be reserved exclusively for his use.

But Ivo took to shouting, ‘Are you in your Peer’s Loo?’ whenever he went past, which only made things worse.

They left on the Monday and he swiftly emailed to thank us for our hospitality (from a service station on the M4, where he had finally achieved relief): ‘The lack of water supply (as alleged) resulted in a great deal of restraint on all our parts.’

Still, they have already hinted they might drop in this summer. Which is a worry, as we have still not — despite the panic this seems to cause among male guests — made any bedroom en suite.