“That’s a drain baby,” Kev said, chewing gum. “Been growing for months. You got kids?”
He went back downstairs, opened a beer, and listened to the water in his pipes run clean and fast. For the first time in weeks, the flat felt like his again. And somewhere across Coventry, Kev the Drain Avenger was already on to the next call—a pub toilet in Spon End with a blockage he’d later describe as “a tragedy of corn and misplaced confidence.” blocked drains coventry
“Neighbor’s kids, then. Or you got a secret kebab habit you’re not owning up to.” He grinned. “Don’t worry. I’ve pulled a whole toy soldier collection out of a pipe in Earlsdon. One time in Coundon? A wedding ring. Woman cried when I gave it back.” “That’s a drain baby,” Kev said, chewing gum
Kev unspooled a high-pressure water jet, and the hose shuddered like a living thing. He fed it into the drain. The sound was a deep, pressurized roar, followed by a wet schlurp that made the ground vibrate. Then a cascade of foul water and debris erupted from the outside gully, washing across the concrete. Kev stepped back just in time. “There she goes. The Coventry Mudslide.” For the first time in weeks, the flat felt like his again
That night, Marlon knocked on his upstairs neighbor’s door. A student named Chloe appeared, clutching a bottle of white wine. “Hey! Sorry about the noise earlier—our sink was slow, so we poured some of that gel stuff down. Hope that’s okay?”