For the first time in eighteen months, my husband and I manage to leave
the business to others and take a whole week's holiday.  This
break includes a bank holiday weekend with Saturday night spent at a
friend's 50th birthday party.  Entering fully into the
celebrations we wobble home at 2.30 in good voice only to be shaken
awake at 7.30 on Sunday morning by our daughter advising that some of
our tenants have come to see us….at first we think this is a dream
(nightmare?) but the child is insistent.  Try to get out of bed,
pick myself up from the floor and stumble downstairs to find that, at
our front door is indeed one of our tenants  who has been renting
our neighbours house.  'Sorry to bother you' he says 'but we've
been ringing your emergency line since 6am. We have a flood….'
I ask him to give me 10 minutes, struggle to get dressed and knock back
some strong coffee.  On arriving at the cottage, a telltale sign
of the problems within is a stream of cold water flooding from under
the front door, over the driveway and onto the road.  The sitting
room carpet is floating at a height of 6 inches off the floor and water
is shooting up into the kitchen from a small but eager leak in the
tiled floor.  The tenant's wife is in tears on the stairs, the
older child screaming on the landing and the baby wading through the
water with a bucket & spade.
I quickly ring the landlord at home, who is very calm and provides us
with details of their insurers.  However the insurance help-line
is manned by a young lady whose sole function appears to be that of
depriving a village of its idiot.  True, she slowly takes all the
details and advises me that she will pass it on the loss adjuster on
Tuesday when they open after the bank holiday.  I ask for further
assistance and receive the reply – 'I don't know, I've never dealt with
a flood before – just do what you think and call us again on Tuesday'.
Armed with such comprehensive guidance we decide to re-house the
family, repair the leak, remove the carpets and install a dehumidifier.
 
Now, call me simple, but building and contents insurance has always
been, and remains, a mystery to me.  Maybe I am too cynical in
thinking that the whole cycle comprises of well-dressed people with new
cars and nice offices, promising the ultimate in protection, extracting
lots of money from you and then spending weeks arguing why you should
have realised that the one thing you are claiming for is excluded from
your policy.  The insurer in the above case sent an assessor five
days later, who claimed that the house (with no water, no electricity,
a 3-foot crater in the middle of the floor blocking access to the
kitchen and stairs and water in the cob walls necessitating three weeks
of industrial drying equipment) was perfectly habitable.  The
claim took 10 months and a court summons before settlement in the
Landlord's favour.
And, if dealing with insurance claims on damaged property isn't
headache enough, shouldn't we all be worried sick about the growing
number of personal injury claims… Although it is major accidents that
grab the headlines,  most accidents are minor in nature and happen
in the home.  The Times newspaper cheerfully informs us that (in
1999) 37 people were injured so seriously by a tea cosy that they were
admitted to hospital, 'most of the injuries were caused by scalding….
while others followed trips on cosies lying on tiles or lino'.
Trouser accidents (presumably excluding unplanned pregnancy) rose to
5,945, socks & tights caused 10,773 mishaps, vegetables caused
13,132 incidents, clothes baskets 3,421, toilet roll holders 329, clogs
633 and talcum powder 73.  It's reassuring to note that sponge and
loofah accidents are on the decline, but 16,662 people still had to go
to hospital after '…a close encounter with a sofa'……
So maybe we should all take heed?  Do the authors of the new HHSRS
really consider that their multi-stage assessments are complete without
checking that all properties have laminated guidance as to the handling
of vegetables and trousers? In addition to the agent having to question
each and every new tenant about their nocturnal pastimes (a necessity
if one is to be absolutely certain as to whether they are a couple or
part of a plot to establish an HMO) should we be testing their
capability to sit on a sofa prior to taking up references?
Which brings me full circle – the increasing need for agents to assume
responsibility for elementary safety, through the provision of written
instructions covering all aspects of home life, would allow the
insurance companies to wriggle out of even more claims…..

The above account is taken from the diary of one of our readers.  Further extracts to follow in future issues.