The Mysterious Bathroom on the First Floor

The curious phase of renovation, that feels more like some kind of decay, continues in this house of bedsits. After the introduction of the Creepy Green Light a month or so back, and the recent painting of my ceiling -which left my room covered in a mysterious white dust - there is now a addition to all this architectural strangeness.
Upon coming home from work on Saturday afternoon, I saw that there was a notice on the bathroom door which read 'The ceiling in the bathroom is cracked and dangerous. Do not use. Please use the shower on the landing downstairs'.
A dangerous crack in the ceiling? What kind of danger might this pose, and how will the use of the shower increase this unnamed danger? I have visions of the shower somehow pulling the ceiling down on me. An explosion of dust and brick. Surely there would be more danger posed by those who use the landing on the third floor - maybe the crack might cause them to plunge a floor below? Perhaps there is a similar notice on the foor of the bathroom on the third floor? I do not know as the thought of travelling to the upper floors of the building fill me with a strange kind of fear. I have no reason to go up there, and the door that is closed against the entrance of the stairs heading upwards is always closed. A strange air of exclusivity. The ground and first floor do not have a door, why does the stairwell from the second to third need a door?
Perhaps everyone is using the bathroom on the first floor landing.
I used the first floor bathroom for a while over the summer, when the shower-head in my bathroom mysteriously disappeared for a while. It was quite a pleasant bathroom, large, and luxurious in a kind of sub-industrial way. I did feel like I was trespassing though, but as I was unemployed at the time, I could use the bathroom during the day when I hoped that everyone else might be working.
I didn't use the first floor bathroom this morning, afraid that there might be a clog of people -from the first, second, and possibly third or higher floors- all queuing to use it. As I left for work this morning I discovered this was not the case, though did discover on the ground floor, any number of manual labourers engaged in some mysterious errand which involved carrying large tools in and out of the front door. As I hurried out, I also heard Mr Ahmed, the landlord, in conversation with an unseen woman, possibly one of the mysterious residents of the grouynd floor.
I hurried out into the rain and got soaked.
So I had to use the first floor bathroom tonight. When I thought all was quiet (and there was no light on in the landings apart from the Creepy Green Light) I fled down the stairs to the first floor bathroom. It felt very strange -and quite wrong- to be on the first floor with my shampoo and towel. I hurriedly locked the bathroom door, and then realised that there was someone in the toilet next door. Were they hoping to use the bathroom after they had finished on the toilet? Did they flush that chain in a slightly annoyed way? As I stepped into the shower, I felt quite sure that the toilet user was gathering other residents of the first floor to organise some kind of bathroom-orientated lynching.
Casting such paranoid thoughts aside, I looked around the incredibly large and Victorian looking bathroom I was in.
Which now seemed very different from the time I had used it over summer.
First of all, there was something different about the windows. The windows, some kind of monochrome stained glass affair, seemed larger... More alarming were the windows (of a similar stained-glass type) that looked out onto the landing. At the top of these windows (the room is very very tall remember) there is now a foot high gap running the width of the windows. Can anyone see in if they are coming down the stairs? They would certainly be able to hear shower-sounds. I had never noticed the gap when I had been coming down the stairs before, but had certainly noticed the blurred and naked forms of bathers through the frosted glass.
But where had the gap came from?
It certainly wasn't there over the summer.
Even stranger, there is now some mysterious gap in the wall between the bathroom and the toilet, again too high (fortunately) to see through, but where did it come from? Who removed it and why? Do the people who use that toilet feel self conscious if there is someone in the bathroom (as I was)?
Perhaps they all come upstairs to use the bathroom on the second floor.
Some kind of bathroom based peace treaty to stop war breaking out between the first and second floors.
I wonder what the people on the ground floor think?