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Arriving at the address, where Winston and Roland were working, I collected my clipboard, with the health and safety, checklist on it, along with a pen. Having located the two black workmen, I observed them for a short while, and then told them to ‘stop!' Going through the list I exclaimed: "you're not wearing goggles, a hard hat, steel toe cap shoes, a tool belt, protective clothing with reflective strips, nor, for that matter, have you taped off the area you're working in. This won't do," I inform them. "What? Where?" Roland quizzically rejoins. "This is very serious, guys. I need to see you, back at the office, right away," I tell them. And while I head back to my car, I leave them to make their way back, and ponder the situation.

Back at our house (we run the business from home), I sit on the sofa with the clipboard to hand, and wait for the two workmen to arrive. "Mrs Manders," one of them calls out. "I'm in here, guys," I tell them, and having joined me, I get them to sit down, either side of me, while I discuss the matter. "As you know, my husband's away for a few days, and he's left me in charge of supervising things." Then going back over the list of infractions, I ask: "what have you gotta say for yourselves?" Both men, now think about it for a moment, then Winston, the one with short hanging dreadlocks, says: "Your all supposed to provide us with those things." A point, which Roland echoes. "Yeah. There's a closet with those in," I tell them. "Your husband keeps those things locked up, so, you need to unlock it," Winston says. Somewhat ignoring his excuse, I continue: "this is actually, pretty serious. So ...

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