'Krrrikkwhoshhhhhhttt!!!' explodes the Alarming Noise.

I tie my shoelaces hurriedly. The LTLP has clearly fallen through the stairs.

The noise of a woman falling through some stairs is one of those unmistakable sounds. It's something totally and utterly distinctive, like a Routemaster bus, for instance, or a vicar falling out of a tree.

I rush into the kitchen. She is sat on the floor amidst a pile of wood, a bemused look etched into her features. "Fuck!" she comments.

We are due at Short Tony's for dinner, so I pull her up and send her next door for a stiff drink. I then commence my Accident Investigator's role, before carpenting some temporary stairs by balancing a plank on top of a wooden crate. This will allow us to reach the top half of the flight (currently still standing) with a bit of effort.

The saga of my stairs is becoming tiresome. We have joked before that we are likely to become the subjects of some form of 'cowboy builder' type TV documentary; little did I realise that Channel 4 might one day be interested for 'Bodyshock: The Woman with a Riser up her Arse'.

I double-check that the plank is holding reasonably well, then scoot next door for some roast beef.