OK, we surrender – to the continental key collectors

Has anyone seen Mr Zink? I believe that he is the leader of a specialist gang of predominantly European guests, supported by a few sleepers in the UK, who are seeking to undermine the independent hotels of the UK by a unique method: key-rustling!

Hard though it might be to believe, ask yourselves: how many keys have you lost this summer? Could there be some truth in my hypothesis?

As I have previously explained to you, my husband is a Luddite when it comes to such things as key cards, which are definitely for the fourth millennium at this hotel. So we rely on the good, old-fashioned master key system and carry one spare for each room.

For some strange reason this year all systems designed to prevent keys going missing have failed. The majority of guests have no desire to keep a large 8in x 3in piece of hard, heavy plastic with a key attached and so they return them, by all sorts of methods. The most innovative so far this year has been the key swathed in Sellotape with a stamp on the fob. It got here in a day and took me three days to unwrap.

But for some reason, all our guests from northern Europe who have "borrowed" our keys "without permission" (as my old headmistress used to say about missing gym kits and suchlike) seem to want to keep them. I am convinced there is a home, possibly in Amsterdam, just waiting for a number 4 to complete the set, and they have two number 8s ready for a swap!

Now number 8 has become a joke. Our main key and spare disappeared within two days of each other but - being prepared (early Guide/Scout training) - we took the lock off the door and our Chubb blanks to the ironmonger - which is a round trip of 12 miles - and I confidently thought our only problem would be ordering replacement fobs. I should know by now that things go that smoothly only in Graham Webb's column.

The lock went back on the door. The new guest keys fitted. The master key didn't. We discovered this when the guest in number 8 locked the new keys in. They had also closed all their windows. It was a fiasco, and as my school did not do lock-picking at O level we were stuck. Simon was for the sledgehammer approach but I decided to work laterally.

We eventually opened the door later that morning with a key that shouldn't have fitted. I was past caring and curiosity. We took the lock off the door again and back to the locksmith. The barrel had somehow metamorphosed since its last visit and we required a new one. OK, it's easy from here… No. Chubb requires a letter of authority and the order period is three weeks.

Everyone, without exception, who has occupied room 8 in this period has had an incident with their key, ranging from dropping it in Bodnant Gardens to losing it in their picnic bag. Mr Zink, you have succeeded. It has been two-and-a-half weeks of unrelenting misery. Send your address and I will send you number 4. We surrender.

Next diary from Barbara Baldon will be on 23 October