A Perfect Shower

‘You are not getting any younger Mum.’

Sally frowned. She knew her only child Daniel, meant well, but she did not need reminding that she was no longer in her prime.

‘A wet floor shower would be the sensible option,’ Daniel continued.

Sally adjusted the phone against her ear. She had rung Daniel to tell him about her bathroom disaster and he was full of “helpful advice.” A new bathroom had not been on her current financial plan. However yesterday she had returned home from work to find an alarming puddle in the doorway of her bathroom and bubbly flooring.

Sally called a plumber straight away, who arrived in the statutory overalls, whistling, bristly faced and sparkly eyed.

‘Your pipes have been leaking for some time, down the walls under your bath and under the flooring,’ he informed Sally. ‘The whole lot will have to be ripped out and replaced.’ At this point the plumber sucked in his lips in and declared, ‘wouldn’t like to be in your boots.’

Alarmed, Sally had deduced that this was going to be very expensive.

Daniel went on. ‘It’s only going to add value to the family home.’

Sally laughed quietly at the term family home. It was only her living here now, Daniel having moved up north some years ago with his wife Kate and daughters Lola and Tiffany and her a widow.

‘Yes a wet floor shower is a great idea,’ Jared from Bathrooms 4U agreed a few days later, as he patted her arm soothingly. ‘We will get you sorted with a new bathroom and the perfect shower in no time.’

Sally had been very content with her current bathroom, renovated by her and Charles twenty years ago. A shower over the bath, soft flow shower head, gold tap ware and a large cream vanity unit. On the top Sally arranged perfumed candles. She usually left the door open so jazz floated up the stairs from the stereo system in the living room. It had been perfect.

Jared produced a clutch of thick glossy brochures with a flourish.

‘Why be stuck with plain and boring,’ he crowed. ‘We can give you not one, but many perfect showers.’ He waved his colourful booklets in Sally’s face. ‘A bathroom experience controlled by a flick of a switch. You decide what type of shower you want each day and enter the options into your phone.’ He paused. ‘You do have a smart phone?’ he asked nervously. ‘I realise old people can be technologically hesitant.’

Sally narrowed her eyes. One thing she was not, and that was technologically hesitant. Or old.

‘I have a smart phone. I love technology,’

‘Well,’ Jared enthused, ‘this will be right up your alley. You can chose a shower head flow that suits your mood for the day; soft, gentle rain, summer rain, massage and super strength.’

Sally was impressed.

‘Temperature wise, you can choose from cold to hot and everything in between. But it does not stop at water strength and temperature. Into the walls of this shower are many little lights you can program. We have soft violet, gentle yellow or cream for relaxation and believe or not, disco lights for invigorating dance sessions in the shower to set you up for a night on the town.’ Jared paused at last, then added, ‘Although I’m sure you will not need the latter,’

Sally did not furnish this with a reply.

Jared continued his spiel. ‘There are also diffusers set in the walls which hold a variety of essences and these too can be programmed to release one to suit your mood on the day; citrus, spring garden, woodsmoke, cinnamon, jasmine and many more. You enter your preferences each time, into your phone on the downloaded app and when you flick the switch just inside your door it is all go. You will have the perfect shower every time.’

He then reassured her there would be manual override switches in a little discrete box by the vanity should she need it.

Before she knew it, Sally had signed on the dotted line and her new bathroom and wet floor shower was installed.

For two months Sally enjoyed a perfect shower every day. The wet floor shower was a lot easier to use than her old shower over the bath. In the mornings she chose from the app on her iPhone, The Rolling Stones, citrus scents, and violet lighting to set her up for the day. At night, Norah Jones, garden scents and soft cream lighting for a more relaxing experience. As Jared promised when she flicked the switch just in the doorway, it all happened automatically. It was always perfect.

But it did not last. Sally had endured a fraught day at work and was relaxing in her shower, jazz on the airwaves, jasmine floating through the diffusers, the shower head set to spring rain when out of the blue it all started to happen. The lights flashed all colours of the rainbow, the water temperature oscillated from freezing to boiling hot and Joss Stone, Rolling Stones and Queen alternated lines. The sounds, smell, and temperatures were overpowering and excruciating. Sally leapt from the shower, grabbed her phone, stabbed the screen wildly until quietness settled in the bathroom.

Over the next few days, the shower continued to be anything but perfect, repeating it’s out of control performance. Consultation with experts did not result in a satisfactory answer. “Operator trouble,” was all they could come up with. Sally was not impressed.

After a week, Sally reset her shower manually and permanently, using the switches in the little discrete box by the vanity unit. Soft rain for the shower head flow, jasmine in the diffusers, gentle cream lighting and jazz on the sound system. She popped candles on the vanity for ambience.

It was perfect. She deleted the phone app.

Daniel, Kate and the girls came to stay.

‘How was your shower?’ Sally asked.

‘It was perfect,’ they chorused.

Wendy Taylor