I sit at the piano and play a scale. It should go:

“Plink plunk plunk plunk plink plunk plunk plunnnk.”

And now it just goes:

“Plink plunk plunk plunk [gap] plunk plunk plunnnk.”

This is really annoying. I was quite happy with not having an A flat, but pretty well everything ever written has a G in it somewhere, especially ‘Air on a G String’ and ‘Green Green Grass of Home’. It is such a useful note.

I open the lid. I can see the wooden hammery-on things. It all looks very complicated, and not something that I’d be easily able to fix. I would call the Cheerful Builder, but I guess he doesn’t really know much about pianos as a) he is a builder not a piano mender and b) he is a punk – albeit a punk who likes Status Quo, which makes him a very rubbish punk indeed.

There is a business card sellotaped inside the lid – it is for a general piano repair man!!!

His phone number is Edgware 6421. I think it might be quite old.

I look at my piano sadly. It is very old and historic and I love it, but I will never become the Tori Amos of West Norfolk without a G or an A flat.