Telephone

Two years ago my quality of life began to go downhill. It happened when BT Openreach gave our old copper landline a compulsory upgrade to ‘Digital Voice’, meaning all calls would be made over wifi. A succession of visiting engineers failed to resolve the crackling and the cutting out on the new digital line or the uninstructed diversion of incoming calls to voicemail. Worse, the new digital service wouldn’t extend to the bedroom: ‘It’s an old cottage, you see, with thick walls.’ Never mind that for decades I had spent many happy hours per day lying in bed (like Mrs Stitch, my role model) organising jobs and romantic partners for