Arthur reached out to pull a piece of wood free. He tugged. It didn't budge. It was wedged in tight. He grabbed his drag bucket—a heavy metal scoop used for shifting silt—and hooked it over the obstruction.
But it wasn't a fatberg. The torch beam cut through the darkness, illuminating a wall of debris. Arthur stepped closer, frowning. It looked like a dam, built from old bicycle wheels, slats of wood from broken pallets, and mud. blocked drains castleford