The repairman oiled the manager’s squeaking chair.
By lunchtime, three employees had asked him to undo the repair.
He tested the chair again. It turned smoothly and made no noise.
Nothing’s wrong with it, he said.
That’s what we’re complaining about, said the receptionist….
For six years, everyone in accounts had known when Martin was leaving his desk.
His chair gave a long squeak as he pushed it back. Martin called it the worst noise in the building.
On Monday he finally called a repairman.
Martin demonstrated the fault three times. Each squeak brought a sudden burst of typing from the room next door.
You see? he said. It’s disturbing everyone.
The repairman, Neil, put down his bag.
Should only take a minute.
The receptionist, Beth, looked up.
Could you come back after Friday?
Martin said he had waited long enough.
Neil turned the chair over, tightened two screws and put a little oil on the joint. Martin sat down, rolled backwards and stood up.
Silence.
He smiled.
Wonderful. I should have done this years ago.
Beth watched Neil put the oil away.
Does it wear off?
Not for a good while.
She didn’t look pleased.
Neil stayed to fix a cupboard door. While he worked, Martin walked into accounts carrying a folder.
A spoon vanished into a drawer. Someone closed a holiday website. A man holding half a biscuit began studying it as though the figures were printed underneath.
Martin asked why everyone looked surprised.
Nobody had heard him coming.
At eleven, Beth found Neil beside the cupboard.
Could you have another look at that chair?
What’s happened?
You fixed it.
That’s usually the idea.
She asked whether the screws had to be quite so tight. Neil said they did if Martin wanted to remain on the seat.
After lunch, two men from accounts approached him. One offered to pay for a second visit. The other asked whether he could remove just the oil.
Neil went back into Martin’s office. He checked the wheels, the seat and the back. Everything worked perfectly.
Beth waited in the doorway.
I can’t find a fault, he said.
We know.
Then why does everyone want it repaired again?
Beth glanced at Martin, who had walked silently into accounts for the fourth time that morning.
We want our doorbell back.
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