Today, the last piece of the Michelsberg Tailoring refurbishment programme fell into place.
My Italian table and chairs finally landed.
The table came in two boxes – one for the top, one for the base.
Taped to the base was an Allen key, eight screws, four clips and…no instructions.
“Don’t panic, Mr Mannering,” I said to young George. How hard can this be?
Fast forward two hours and I’m spitting feathers.
Red-faced, my bespoke shirt stuck to my aching back, I’m fantasising about throttling the table’s pasta-munching designer, with my throbbing hands.