When I hear people complaining about construction projects that have been going on for months, I smile in a slightlyknowing way. Then, as casually as I can, I drop the remark: 'Well, after six years . . .'

Not that I am complaining. The surprising thing about having builders for a long time is that you become used to them. In fact, you not only become accustomed to them, you become dependent on them. And then, when the day arrives when the house is quiet and there are no builders, you begin to feel uneasy. Something is wrong -- there is no hammering or sawing; there is no dust; there is no electrician switching off the power; there is no radio playing in the background, tuned to the wrong station.

You begin to ask yourself: Where are the builders? Have they actually finished? You make a telephone call or two to check that everything is in order, and then, when you've been reassured that the work is done, you begin to settle down. But only briefly, for now come the first symptoms of an insidious, though little-understood condition: builder-deprivation syndrome.

The signs of this are not dramatic. Generally there is a feeling of unease, a feeling of loss, perhaps, not unlike the feeling you have when you see a friend off at airport and you are left behind. This is followed by anxiety, and eventually, in extreme cases, by an urge to rush out of the house and make your way to the nearest building site to watch other people's builders. That is the serious end of the syndrome, and there are, I believe, tragic cases of builder-deprived householders being arrested for hanging around building sites. This can be misunderstood; indeed, it would be surprising if it were not misunderstood.

How did I get myself into this situation? Well, by making the mistake that everybody makes, which is not to leave buildings alone. My wife and I live in Edinburgh, in Scotland, in a large Victorian house that used to be divided into two apartments. We wanted more room, which is what everybody wants, even those who live in very large houses. Look at the late Romanian President Nicolae Ceausescu -- he wanted more space and built a new palace with many hundreds of rooms. Then he was shot. That happens and should be borne in mind, perhaps, before one becomes too enthusiastic about house -- or palace -- extensions.

Everybody wants more room, even if they don't need it. So we bought out our neighbors (who, as it happens, wanted more room) and knocked down the dividing walls. Now, I would never recommend knocking down walls oneself. I recall seeing some years ago a picture in a newspaper of the house of an enthusiastic do-it-yourself home renovator. He had tackled a wall -- and brought down his neighbor's house, although his own house remained standing. So we had builders in, and they started to work, and more and more things were found for them to do. They went away from time to time -- builders do that -- but they always returned some months later and resumed work where they had left off. They were, in fact, extremely good builders, and they made a very good job of it. They were tidy, careful workmen, and they always presented you with their bills on time. I got to know them all and found out all about their private lives. Builders have interesting private lives, as a rule, and if you are an author, you can get a great deal of material from them, provided your books are sensational -- or about builders.

Then we bought a house in the country, as a retreat -- to get away from builders, perhaps. That required extensive modernization and was just crying out for a large boat shed. So new builders were engaged -- this time builders whom I found distinctly unsatisfactory. After a year and a half it was discovered that much of the work they had done had to be demolished and then redone. Because I was no longer talking to the new builders, I got the old builders to come all the way from Edinburgh to do that job. They did it very well indeed, over several years, and we became even firmer friends. Because the house was so remote, these builders had to be accommodated for months on end. They were like family.

Now the old builders are helping me in my legal action involving the new builders. We see one another all the time, along with all the lawyers. These builders are part of my life. They are built-in.

That is my story. Please remember it if you are thinking of building.