Every morning when Priscilla opened the curtains, she was greeted by the sight of her neighbour Arnold’s dilapidated outhouse and every morning without fail it ensured that she started the day in a foul mood. It was letting the neighbourhood down and she had tried and tried to get him to do something about it. Casual remarks about what a shame it was when lovely old buildings fell into disrepair had not been picked up on, nor had less subtle hints about the negative effect on property values been taken either.
Finally, she had confronted him outright. “For God’s sake, Arnold, these properties are all listed you know? You’re not allowed to let it crumble away like that.”
Arnold just shrugged and remarked that it would cost several thousand pounds and he was simply too old and frail to contemplate squandering his children’s inheritance at his time of life.
Then Priscilla had a brainwave. You did not have to own a property to make a planning application concerning it, so she applied for permission to demolish Arnold’s outhouse. Needless to say, it was refused, and Arnold was told he would be facing the courts if, as the owner he didn’t pay for the repair.
Arnold’s family always said it was the stress that finally took him. But he remembered Priscilla in his last will and bequeathed her the outhouse along with a bill for its repair.