So the baby could play with the smoke

Maisie's spent an hour and a half on the 'phone to the gas company querying a bill for the old Roadkill Library, including thirty-two minutes on hold listening to Mantovani. I couldn't help overhearing the eventual conversation.

"One of your engineers came over in September, cut off the gas and took a final reading..."

"...It's been closed since January. It's closed and unoccupied..."

"...No, it's unoccupied. And it never will be occupied again: it's been closed for demolition, they're going to build a motorway over it..."

"...There's no point in you sending us an estimated bill, the reading's going to be the same as the final one your engineer took..."

"...Isn't your engineer's actual final reading better than a customer reading?"

"...The library's nine miles away and there's nobody in there. We can't send somebody over once a month to take a reading. Besides, what's the point? The gas has been cut off and your engineer took the final reading..."

The eventual compromise is that once a quarter for the next hundred years, Maisie will be sending the gas board an email saying:

The building that was Roadkill Library, Windicote Lane, closed for demolition January 2008. Reading 103772