Page 46 of The Do-Over

It’s Wednesday morning and I’m feeling nervous. Ernest is due to arrive at any moment to start greasing the mill in preparation for its (hopefully fatal) test run, but there’s no sign of Ben’s mate Dave yet. If the tree doesn’t go today, this whole fiasco is just going to drag out, and I want to know where we stand so we can make a plan. At least we’ve finally finished the windows, which I have to say look particularly good now in their fresh white paint, and Ben’s other friend Chris is cracking on at an impressive rate installing the new central heating system. I’m conscious that I’ve only got a few more months where I’m actually going to be paid a salary, but living at Mum and Phil’s has been ridiculously cheap because they flatly refused to charge more than a peppercorn rent, so I’m actually pretty flush with cash and relaxed where day-to-day living expenses are concerned. I also managed to offload the idiotic Porsche, which I’ve replaced with a much more sensible SUV. Rebecca also seems fairly relaxed where money is concerned, no doubt in part because Alice relented and didn’t ask her to pay back the three months of mortgage cover. I did think it was odd that she seemed to be playing hardball overit, given how she’d promised to make everything all right, so I was pleased for Rebecca when she changed her mind.

Rebecca and Ben’s date night at the pub obviously went better than expected, as I caught her trying to creep in early on Sunday morning. We normally make a point of staying away from the mill on Sundays, so there’s one day of the week where we’re free of it, but she insisted on making a picnic and taking it down there, so we all trolled along too. It was actually a lovely day. Ben spent a lot of time trying, with various degrees of success, to teach Rollo and Louis to row on the lake while the rest of us observed from the safety of the shore. To my mind, the splashing-to-progress ratio was definitely heavily weighted towards the splashing side, but they did manage to make it all the way around by the end of the day, coming ashore completely soaked. Mum offered to bring Rollo home with us so Rebecca and Ben could have some more time alone, which was obviously well used if the flushed and happy expression on her face when she turned up a few hours later was anything to go by.

Thankfully, any apprehension I might have had about their burgeoning relationship getting in the way of progress at the mill has proved unfounded. They are openly affectionate with each other, but we’re working as hard as we ever have. Today, we’ve finally started to rip out the tired old kitchen as, even if we don’t get permission to relocate it into the mill, we need to do something with it. Ben is currently dismantling the coal-fired range, a messy job because every interior surface of it is thick with coal dust and it seems to be putting up quite a fight, so he looks a little like a miner at the end of a particularly mucky shift. The telltale smudge of coal dust on Rebecca’s nose that I’ve chosen not to mention indicates that they’ve managed to find a moment together already this morning, despite the heavy workload.

The sound of an approaching engine makes me glance out of the window, just in time to see a covered pickup truck pull up and park outside the door. The words ‘D. Lodge, Tree Surgeon’ are emblazoned on the side along with a phone number and email address, so I’m guessing this must be Ben’s mate Dave. I’m therefore rather surprised when the driver’s door opens and a stocky woman with short, ash-blonde spiky hair hops out. She’s dressed all in black except for her boots, which are Dr Martens with a riotous floral pattern. Another woman emerges from the passenger side; she’s tall and athletic looking, with dark brown hair pulled back in a ponytail.

Ben has obviously heard them arrive too, as he’s on his feet and outside to greet them before they’ve even had a chance to close the doors.

‘Bloody hell, Ben!’ the stocky one exclaims when she sees him. ‘Did you lose a fight with a coal scuttle? You can keep well away from both of us, thank you very much.’

‘Nice to see you too,’ he says warmly as Rebecca and I walk out to join them.

‘Thea, Rebecca, this is my mate Dave,’ Ben tells us before turning back to her. ‘Thea and Rebecca own the mill. I’m just helping them out.’

‘Of course you are,’ she says, laughing. ‘I’m Dave, which is short for Davina if you hadn’t already worked it out. This is my partner Brooke, which isn’t short for anything. Ben tells me you’ve got a tree that needs moving?’

‘Yes, round the corner. Would you like me to show you?’

‘Nah, you’re all right. A tree surgeon who can’t find the right tree isn’t going to be in business for long. There isn’t any chance of a cup of tea though, is there?’

‘We’re pulling the kitchen apart at the moment, but we still have a kettle,’ I tell her. ‘How do you like it?’

‘White without, please. Do you want one, Brooke hun?’

‘Yes, please. Same as hers if that’s OK.’

‘Why didn’t you tell me Dave was a woman?’ I whisper to Ben as we make our way back indoors. Rebecca has elected to stay outside, chatting to Dave and Brooke while they change into their work gear and pull various harnesses and massive chainsaws out of the back of the pickup.

‘Does it make a difference?’ he asks, clearly amused.

‘Of course not! It’s just that I kind of assumed that a tree surgeon with a name like Dave?—’

‘Would be a man. Everyone does. It’s part of her USP. If you got in a bloke, let’s call him Terry, who fit all the stereotypes of a tree surgeon, you’d probably forget him before he even reached the end of the drive. You won’t forget Dave, will you?’

‘And Brooke, is she…?’

‘Brooke is Dave’s everything. Business partner, life partner, the lot. They met when we all started secondary school and have been inseparable ever since. They live in the village and got married four years ago. I think Brooke would like to start a family, but Dave’s worried about how she’ll cope on her own with the business. Anyway, they’re great friends of mine and they’ll do an excellent job.’

‘Thinking of friends, we probably ought to chat about you and Rebecca.’

He grins. ‘Are you going to ask me what my intentions are?’

‘Not at all. She’s very smitten with you though, so I just wanted to check whether you feel the same way, or whether I’m going to be mopping her up with boxes of tissues in a month or two.’

‘I think she’s incredible,’ he says simply. ‘To come through everything that she’s been through and still be as optimistic as she is, that’s amazing. Look, I know you two are going to sell this place and move on, but you’ll still be in the area, won’t you?She’s been very clear that she’s not going to keep yanking Rollo out of one school to stuff him in another.’

‘So you’re thinking this could be a long-term thing?’

‘I’d like it to be, yes.’

A thought comes to me. ‘And, just for the sake of argument, if we were to buy another property not too far away, would you be as helpful as you have been here?’

‘My God!’ he exclaims theatrically, clapping a hand to his forehead. ‘This is a honeytrap. I should have known!’

‘What?’ I have no idea what he’s talking about.

‘This is how you operate, isn’t it? Find a handyman and get Rebecca to seduce him so he’ll willingly work himself to the bone for you. She’s the honey and you’re the trap.’

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