Wolverhampton !link!: Drain Company

The phone kept ringing in the Severn Trent office. Blocked toilets, collapsed sewers, fatbergs. The ordinary filth of modern life. But whenever a new engineer asked Jake Mullins what the strangest job he'd ever done was, he would pour himself a coffee, look out at the rainy Wolverhampton streets, and say:

"Mr. Chandry. I’m the owner of the antique shop, 'Chandry’s Curiosities'. The drain at the back has been gurgling for a week. Now? The flagstones are lifting. And there's a smell , lad. Not sewage. Worse. Like old bones and wet ash." drain company wolverhampton

"Depends what's causing the pressure," Jake replied. "We need to open that grate. But not with cameras. Dave, suit up." The phone kept ringing in the Severn Trent office

The puzzle solved itself in Jake's head. The old Smestow Brook diversion fed this chamber. The steam engine—long dead—had once pumped water up to the canal wharves. But over 170 years, a natural spring had found its way into the lower sump. And the sump had become a trap. But whenever a new engineer asked Jake Mullins

"Right, Dave," Jake said, pulling on his neoprene gloves. "Fire up the CCTV crawler. We’re going in."