Brighton Pensioner goes red

That is not a political statement, nor is it meant to imply that I have spent too long in the sun and turned into what the French would call a "Rosbif". No, it just decsribes the colour of my face yesterday afternoon when I turned red with embarrassment.

Our electric kettle had been a bit iffy for several days and yesterday lunchtime it turned its (metaphorical) toes Heavenwards. An English home without a kettle just cannot be, it would probably contravene some law passed in the time of Oliver Cromwell that is still on the statute book, so the Old Bat and I took us to the home of electric kettles, the local branch of a catalogue shopping company named after an ancient Greek ship. There Madam purchased not quite the cheapest kettle in their range but very nearly the cheapest.

We returned home with the setting sun in our eyes. Once there (or here), I wasted no time in opening the cardboard box and removing the kettle, which was neatly wrapped in a plastic bag. I didn't actually notice, but I am sure the plastic bag bore the usual warning that it is not a toy. Anyway, the kettle looked absolutely splendid. I also removed a small paperback book which purported to contain instructions on how to use the kettle. Then I noticed something a little odd.

The packaging did describe the kettle as cordless, but I felt sure the water 'otter part should sit on a base which would be plugged into the electric main and that there should therefore be a cord of some sort. There was, however, no sign of such a base and its umbilical cord. I checked the instruction manual and that said the kettle should be removed from its base before filling with water, by which I understood that there should be a base supplied with the kettle. I looked at the illustration in the Argos catalogue. Although no cord was shown, the kettle was definitely sitting on a base.

I put the kettle and instruction manual back in the box, grabbed the receipt, and returned to the Argos store. The young lady at the customer service desk was just finishing attending to another satisfied punter as I arrived so I had no time to twiddle my thumbs. I told the young lady that we had bought the kettle only a few minutes previously and that it was only half there.

"What do you mean?" she asked. "Only half there?"

"The base and power cord are missing."

She opened the box and pulled out the kettle. "They are in the kettle," she said, unwrapping it and lifting the lid to show me.

Exit a red-faced pensioner.