A letter arrived yesterday while I was out daubing. It was from a firm of 'Certificated Enforcement Agents' (bailiffs) addressed to people we've never heard of but addressed precisely to our number, street, village and postcode. It demanded payment of five figures' worth of non-domestic rates for a pub fifty miles from here, and threatened to come along on Saturday morning to seize goods for auction to pay the debt. Telephone calls ensued to the bailiffs and the local council. They are evidently speaking to each other about it, but I've emailed the council demanding written confirmation in hard copy that they have no claim against either or both of us, an explanation and the source of the false information. Not having this!
Though we've been on to the bailiffs and the council, we can't be sure that the word has reached those who would call on us. We had planned to go to a matinée in London tomorrow, but do not want to come home to find the door broken in, and will have to man the ramparts of Forges-l'Evêque instead. Snarl. It may make me even more pernickety when I'm asked to grant entry warrants!
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