Page 49 of The Do-Over

‘Yes, well, we’ve got a lot to do,’ Ernest continues, shooting us a suspicious look. ‘There’s rather a lot of paperwork, but I’m happy to take you through it.’

‘I expect you’re anxious to get out into the mill,’ Rebecca says hurriedly. ‘Can’t George take us through the paperwork?’

Ernest looks at us suspiciously again, evidently trying to weigh up whether we’re up to something or not.

‘You have been saying it’s time I stepped up on the admin side of things,’ George chips in. ‘I’m happy to do it if you like.’

‘Hmm,’ Ernest says doubtfully. ‘I could use a second pair of hands really, but someone’s got to do the forms.’

‘I’ll help you,’ Rebecca tells him.

‘But you don’t know anything about watermills,’ Ernest protests.

‘I seem to own one, so I probably ought to learn, don’t you think?’ she replies smoothly, giving me a surreptitious wink as she adds milk to the mugs.

‘Very well. Let’s have our cuppa and then I’ll show you what’s what. I just need to pop to the loo. You really ought to do something about your track. It plays havoc with my bladder.’

‘He’s a bit eccentric, but he does know what he’s talking about,’ George assures us once Ernest is out of the room. ‘At HIBT, they call him the mill whisperer. He’ll have that thing purring like a kitten in no time. Have you given any more thought to what you’re going to do with it? Mills are happiest if you run them pretty much every day.’

‘We’re still trying to figure that part out,’ I tell him honestly as we sit down at the table and he pulls a fat wad of papers out of the folder that Ernest brought in.

‘OK, well, the good news, at least I hope it’s good news, is that there are lots of ways that the Historic Industrial Buildings Trustcan help you, if you want us to. I think I mentioned that last time we were here.’

Although he’s taken up a lot of my fantasy time over the last week, some of which has been shockingly graphic, having him here in the flesh is way better. My eyes linger on his long lashes as he blinks. In fact, even the way he blinks is sexy: it’s not merely a functional down and back up like most people, it’s more languid, like a cat. It’s as if his eyelids are aware how special his lashes are and don’t want to rudely hurry them.

‘The first thing we need to do,’ he continues, seemingly totally oblivious to the effect he’s having on me, ‘is get you to sign the agreement with HIBT.’

‘Make sure you get her to sign the agreement,’ Ernest says as he emerges from the loo, tugging up his zip and totally ruining the moment.

‘I’m already on it,’ George reassures him.

‘Good.’ Rebecca hands him his mug of tea and he takes a long, loud slurp. ‘That,’ he observes in a solemn tone, ‘is a damn fine cup of splosh. I don’t know what you ladies do, but it always tastes better when you make it. It’s the same with the missus. She makes a cracking cuppa too. It must be something in your genes, like you’re born with the ability to make great tea. Right, Rebecca, would you like to accompany my good self to the mill?’

There’s so much wrong with what Ernest has just said and done that I can’t stop myself from staring at him aghast as he leads the way to the door. As Rebecca follows him through, she turns and mouths, ‘You so owe me for this,’ at me, drawing her hand across her neck dramatically.

‘Like I said,’ George murmurs once they’ve closed the door behind them, ‘he is an eccentric.’

‘How the hell does his wife put up with his rampant sexism?’ I exclaim. ‘I’d have killed him by now.’

‘I couldn’t possibly comment,’ George says conspiratorially, flashing me a smile that combines with the tone of his voice to do frankly unnecessary things to me. ‘What I can tell you, having met her, is that she’s very encouraging of any projects that take him out of the house. Now, back to the agreement.’

‘What am I agreeing to?’

‘HIBT is a charity, so we need income from somewhere. A lot of the buildings we’ve been involved with over the years are open to the public, and the owners generate revenue from them. In return for the help we can give you, we ask you to agree to a 5 per cent contribution from any profits you might make from the mill.’

‘What if we don’t make any profit?’

‘Then you don’t give us any money. However, if you sell the mill and the subsequent owners decide to make an income, we would still expect a contribution from them.’

‘And how long does this agreement last?’

‘We ask for a ten-year commitment, but we have many HIBT partners who are still happily contributing decades after the official agreement ended, because they recognise the value that we bring. I think it’s important to explain that this is about relationship. We want you to get the best out of your historic building, so we’re not just going to get you up and running and then disappear. Any time you have an issue, or even if you just want some advice, you can call on us. Think of it like a subscription.’

The idea of regular visits from George is almost enough to make me sign on the dotted line immediately, but I manage to rescue my rational lawyer brain from wherever it’s been sleeping and read the small print carefully. It’s all pretty standard stuff and seems like a fair deal, so I sign at the end without any qualms.

‘Welcome to the HIBT family,’ George says with a smile as I push the document back to him. ‘We’re really excited to be working with you on this project.’

Not half as excited as I am, but that’s got nothing to do with the mill. My mind is already conjuring up excuses to get him on site regularly. So much for ‘old’ Thea and her self-sufficiency.

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