It wasn't roots. It wasn't grease.
“After the big storm hit, about an hour ago. We heard a gurgle from the downstairs loo, and then… that smell.” emergency blocked drains harpenden
As he packed up, the woman handed him a cup of tea, real china, with a shaky smile. “Thank you. For not just calling it an emergency. For treating it like… a crisis.” It wasn't roots
“When did it start backing up?” he called out to the husband, who stood pale and helpless in the doorway, a towel stuffed uselessly against the bottom of the door. it reeked of raw sewage.
The address was a chocolate-box cottage on Leyton Road, the kind that usually smelled of beeswax and old books. Tonight, it reeked of raw sewage.