In summer, its hardest season, the fridge in the butcher’s shop below our flat hums. It isn’t a constant hum, or even a consistent one. Mostly, it sounds like a tired bee trapped against glass in another room. But then, every so often, it gets louder, turning first into a cross wasp, then an old tube train, before dropping off so suddenly, it sounds as if it has been turned off. It hasn’t, of course, and soon, like a child playing or someone on a cheerful stroll, it is humming again.
This fridge has caused controversy in our building, being responsible for sleepless nights and a divorce. As someone who sleeps through almost everything, I know the level of hum only because it has kept me company reading or scrolling on my phone. The issue goes away in winter, when the fridge, with less to do, is turned down, meaning the hum is more of a vibration through the tiles. Which are also warm. A shop, and a fridge, that provides us with inadvertent underfloor heating, as well as the chicken thighs for this week’s recipe, which are also ideal for a party.
