The village water supply

The village is in a state of turmopil over the water supply. Last year the town hall put in a new water supply causing havoc as they dug up the roads and laid the pipes. The new did not replace the old, which comes from a small reservoir on the hill: some people plugged themselves into it and maintained a tap with the old, some changed over completely, others stuck with the old and a few, especially those with cows, started using the new without fitting the compulsory meter.

Since the workmen made a mess of the roads in their efforst to lay the pipes, the town hall now wants to asphalt over the evidence of their sloppy workmanship. This will tidy things up but it will also mean that the old pipes will be impossible tog et to when they need repairing- a frequent occurrence since they are not buried deep enough to avoid frequent breakages when a heavy tractors pass over. This coinicides with the realisation that the water company is not so obtuse that it hasn't noticed the a disproportional use of water compared to the amount metered: the water thieves are going to have to pay for the new or sort out the old.

The issue divides the village. Those who use their houses at weekends and for holidays are content to pay for the new and forget the old because they are unlikely to reach the minimum metered anount and the charge is reasonable. Those with cows of course want to sort out the old supply but they want it to be a communal effort to defray some of the expense.

No one can agree on anything excapt perhaps that the best method of going about things is to have endless meetings where no one says what they mean until afterwards, when they huddle off into groups and make bitter imprecations against those who are slowing things down. You can't use the water for watering your garden or filling your swimming pool, they say. Well, go to hell then and don't count on my money. Ahh, so you won't help that means I won't help with the village fiesta. You wait and see, I'll be the first to say no to someone else's plans.

Will the old supply be saved? The clock is against it. When the council finally comes with the asphalt wagon, which is already parked at the junction like an unwieldy club of Damocles, the pipes have to have been moved. This makes it a race against time.