Page 55 of The Do-Over

‘I might not remember,’ he warns her, still grinning.

‘I’ll take the risk. Thea and I are thinking about opening the mill as a tourist attraction, with a sort of petting farm thing attached, and maybe a soft-play area, café and shop. What do you think?’

His expression turns serious as he pivots his gaze to me.

‘I haven’t signed off on it yet,’ I say defensively. ‘I’ve just suggested she talks to you and Ben. Nothing to do with me.’

‘Why does it matter what I think?’ he asks cautiously.

‘Because you’ve probably got other HIBT people who’ve done similar things with their historic buildings,’ she tells him. ‘You might have useful advice for us.’

‘I see. Well, it does sound interesting. Shall I give you a call on Monday?’

‘Do you think,’ I say, sensing an opportunity, ‘it’s the kind of thing that might warrant a site visit? Big plans like this are best discussed face to face, don’t you agree?’

‘I can certainly ask,’ he replies, and his expression is unreadable. I don’t care though. Rebecca’s plan may be mad, but if it gets George on site for a day, that’s a big plus in my book.

‘This is more than you just fancying him, like Rebecca said,’ Saffy says matter-of-factly later that evening. ‘I’m smelling full-on crush here. Am I right?’

Rebecca’s gone to spend the night with Ben so I’ve agreed to help settle Rollo at Saffy’s for the night and stay for dinner with her and Tim. The boys have had baths and are currently totally engrossed in a PlayStation game, and we’re sitting at the kitchen table with glasses of wine while Tim cooks.

‘You’ve seen him, right?’

‘Oh yes, and he’s undoubtedly good looking, but I’m afraid I agree with Rebecca. He’s like a cardboard cutout of a beach hunk. Beautiful, but lacking in substance.’

‘No, he isn’t.’

‘He is, sorry. He’s nice enough, but I think he’d bore you long term. You need someone with more oomph.’

‘Maybe I don’t want oomph.’

‘You might not want it, but you need it and I’m afraid I don’t think he has it. Not enough, anyway. You’re welcome to prove me wrong, of course.’

‘Why, thank you,’ I say, slightly petulantly. ‘I might just do that.’

Annoyingly, Alasdair chooses this moment to escape from the box I pushed him so firmly into earlier. I wonder what Saffy would have made of him, if she’d met him. I have no doubt that he would have charmed her, because he’s unable to do anything else, but would she have decreed him to be ‘enough’ with the same certainty that she’s now dismissing George? It’s all academic, I decide as I mentally shove Alasdair back into his box once more. He belongs in the past with ‘old’ Thea and I don’t want any crossover from my old life contaminating the new. As far as George is concerned, there’s only one way to find out if Saffy and Rebecca have a point or not, and that’s to spend more time getting to know him. I just need to engineer more ways to do that.

25

It’s Monday morning and I’m feeling decidedly twitchy. Rebecca came home even more upbeat than usual after her night at Ben’s but, although she’s admitted that they talked about her plan, she flatly refused to tell me what he said, saying it was better to hear it from the horse’s mouth. If, as I’d hoped, he’d pointed out the folly of her proposal and shot it down in flames, I can’t see why on earth she’d be in such a good mood. I’m also waiting to hear from George, who needs permission from Charlotte for a site visit. I’ve pondered a lot on what Saffy said, and I’ve decided that the only way to prove her wrong is to stop faffing about and find out how he feels, so I’m planning to invite him to the pub after work and up the ante a little. It’s just the right level of pressure, I reckon. Dave and Brooke are often in there, along with a number of other local people we’ve got to know through Ben, so it won’t be as intense as taking him to a place where it’s just the two of us.

It’s another cold, rainy day, but the cottage is pleasantly warm when Rebecca unlocks the door and we step into the bare kitchen, the new boiler humming quietly in the corner. I hesitate to use it, because it’s a word I hate, but it’s almost cosy in here. At least, it would be if it wasn’t for the boxes of tools on the floorand the industrial-looking bright copper pipes snaking along the walls to the radiators and up through the ceiling to the floor above.

‘Ben should be bringing the materials so we can lag the pipes and box them in today,’ Rebecca tells me happily. ‘Then we can replaster and decorate.’

As if on cue, I spot Ben’s Land Rover pulling up outside, with a covered trailer attached to it.

‘Morning, Rebecca, morning, Thea,’ he says as he strides through the door, bending to give Rebecca a kiss as he passes. ‘Wow. It’s warm in here, isn’t it? We might need to turn that off when we start work or we’ll boil to death. Shall I put the kettle on for a cuppa?’ His mood is also worryingly buoyant, although, to be fair to him, it usually is.

‘Right,’ Ben announces once he’s made his cup of tea and we’ve settled ourselves at the rickety table that serves as our meeting space, dining area and site office. ‘Rebecca told me there’s a new plan on the table.’

‘I think calling it a plan might be a bit premature,’ I say carefully. ‘I would say it’s more of an idea at this stage.’

‘She also warned me that you weren’t completely on board.’

I sigh. ‘It’s just a massive swing from what we originally agreed, neither of us have any experience or the required animal knowledge, it’s going to cost a fortune and it ties us down. With the original plan, we get a quick return on our investment and can move on. Also, if we decide we don’t want to do it any more, it’s easy to extricate ourselves. If we go into this, we’re stuck with it. Everything we have is ploughed into it and we stand to lose it all if we get it wrong.’

‘OK,’ Ben replies. ‘I hear you. But I reckon it’s still got lots of potential. In fact?—’

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