The Heat Is On

Last night, I woke up from my late afternoon nap and I felt cold. When I went downstairs, Nando told me that all the radiators were cold. He asked me to check if the heat had come on. The lights were on, on the control panel, but the burner was off. I suggested that Nando call the landlord, but he refused. Nando said he had lost the landlord's number. That meant I would end up paying for the poxy call. After dialing the landlord's mobile, I got his voicemail. I left a message, saying that the heat was off.
Nando and I both suspected that the problem had been caused by M1. He runs the burner twenty-four hours per day, seven days per week. The landlord never called me back, but he did turn up at the house, a little over an hour later. Unable to fix it there and then, he promised to come back the next day (today). Its winter, in England. Who wants to live without heat? As promised, the landlord returned, today, and fixed the heat. I left it to Nando to tell the boy not to use the heat so much.