Page 12 of Her Fixer Upper

‘Hello, Charlie,’ I answered, without even checking the screen.

‘Who’s Charlie?’ asked my mum, in that overly hopeful tone she normally put on when asking about my love life and whether I’d found myself a nice partner to settle down with yet. She was desperate for me to find someone new, mostly, I think, because she still felt guilty that she’d been the one to introduce me to my last boyfriend, Mark, who’d unfortunately turned out to be a manipulative and controlling bully behind the façade of nice guy that he presented to the rest of the world.

‘It’s a long story, Mum,’ I replied with a sigh. I held a quick internal debate about whether I should tell her of the big plan, but reluctantly decided against it. My mum was the most logical, reasonable person in the world, and I wasn’t sure I was quite ready to defend my decision against the thorough questioning which I knew would ensue. There were so many things that could go wrong before Charlie and I even got to the moving-in stage, and I wasn’t sure she’d get the whole house partners thing. Time enough to fill her in once there was some actual progress. I decided to tell her an abbreviated version of the truth. ‘Remember Charlie Humphries from primary school? We bumped into each other at the pub the other night and promised we’d catch up properly. I was knee deep in marking the Year Eleven mock exams so I didn’t pay proper attention to who was on the phone.’

‘If you say so, darling,’ she responded, as always far too perceptive for her own good. ‘And it’s the weekend, surely the Year Elevens can wait a few days until they get their mocks back? If I were them, I’d rather not know the outcome straightaway. Let them enjoy a few days of blissful ignorance while you make the most of your weekend.’

‘I’m not sure Mr Rhys would agree with your argument. He’s set us the tightest deadline yet. A new Head of English started last term, and between you and me, I think they’ve got a bit of rivalry going on. It doesn’t bode well for my workload for the rest of the year. I’ve got to keep up with it all otherwise there’s no chance of me progressing in the department.’

‘Make sure you take some time for yourself,’ said Mum in a tone which suggested she was adding that aim to her list of tasks I should achieve. ‘Anyway, aside from saying hello to my lovely daughter, the other reason I was ringing was to ask if you’d be able to join the rota I’m setting up to help your grandfather walk Ted.’

‘Of course I’m happy to help. But why are you setting up a rota? He was okay when I talked to him yesterday.’ I felt a jolt of anxiety. Granddad Arthur had always seemed indestructible to me, a man who epitomised the phrase that age is only a number. Ted was his pride and joy. There was no way he’d hand over the task of walking him to other people unless something was seriously wrong.

‘I don’t know if you follow him on his socials, but he’s not always as “blessed” as he makes out,’ she said. ‘His neighbour rang the other day to let me know that she’d had to help him back into the house after he stumbled when he was picking the milk up from the step. He tried to make out he was okay, but she said he was clearly in pain.’

‘Poor Granddad, that’s a horrible thing to happen.’ I could picture the situation all too clearly, knowing that he would have found the embarrassment more troubling than the physical discomfort. I wasn’t surprised that he hadn’t mentioned it on the phone, but I was disappointed that I’d not somehow been able to tell from the tone of his voice that something was up. I kicked myself for being too wrapped up in my own issues to pay proper attention to what was going on with him. ‘Put me down for a regular Saturday walk, and I’ll check with Leila to see if she can swap duties with me so I can do a midweek one as well.’ However busy I was at school, I would find the time somehow to help out. Family came first, after all.

‘Thank you, love, I knew I could rely on you. But when you show up, could you use some sort of excuse to explain why you want to take Ted out? I’m not sure your granddad is going to take too kindly to what he’ll probably decide is interference, even though we’ve got his best interests at heart.’

‘You know he’ll catch on straightaway?’ I said. ‘He’s not daft. And he’ll probably be even more annoyed than if we come out and are upfront with him from the start.’

‘Your father and I have discussed it, and we think this is the best way forward,’ replied Mum in a tone of voice which told me that there was no arguing with her.

‘If he asks me outright, I’m not going to lie to him,’ I warned.

‘You’ll just have to make sure you’re convincing so that he doesn’t ask outright. I’m sure you’ll come up with something.’

We chatted some more about the practicalities, and then ended the call. Had I asked too much of Granddad by seeking his advice on the house? I didn’t want to put him under any pressure when he obviously had stuff of his own going on. Suddenly I didn’t feel like speaking to Charlie tonight about our mortgage broker meeting. I’d worry about it tomorrow. I put my phone on silent and hid it away in my handbag so I couldn’t see the screen, then I distracted myself from my concerns about Granddad and the house by continuing to plough my way through the marking.

Some time later, I heard Leila’s key in the front door. She’d not come back home last night, texting me to say she wanted me to enjoy having some space to myself, although I think the fact that Nim was obviously back on the scene was her real motivation. I stretched my arms out and tried to ease the crick in my neck that had developed from spending too long hunched over my work.

‘Tell me you’re not still marking?’ she asked as she staggered through the door, a heavy bag of shopping in each hand. I jumped up to help her.

‘That’s the lot of a history teacher,’ I said. ‘Loads of essays to read. Keeps me out of trouble, and, ultimately, will pay the mortgage.’

‘You should have chosen PE, like me. The essays are much more infrequent.’

‘Although you do have to stand outside in the horizontal rain attempting to stop the kids from injuring each other with hockey sticks and other dangerous implements.’

‘Fair point. Now, put that marking away, and try to enjoy what’s left of the weekend,’ she said, uncannily echoing the words of my mum. ‘I’ve treated us to a meal deal from the bargain shelf of the posh supermarket round the corner to celebrate that we are now housemates.’

‘Temporary housemates,’ I said quickly. ‘I don’t want to take advantage of your hospitality. Besides, things are looking up on the property front.’

‘Temporary, permanent, whatever, it doesn’t matter.’ She shrugged casually. ‘You know you’re welcome for as long as you need. And while the food’s cooking, you can choose whether you want to tell me about your meeting with Charlie first, or whether you’d like to hear how Nim’s visit to Evil Stevil went.’

We made a good team stabbing holes in the plastic lids of the ready meals and shoving them into the oven. It reminded me of when we first met at university, although our fare then had been even more budget. As the smell of smoky bean chilli started to fill the flat, we sat down on the sofa with a glass of wine apiece.

‘Tell me about Nim’s visit,’ I said, deciding it was best to get the bad bit over and done with. Hopefully it would be the last I had to hear of my former landlord.

Leila nodded. ‘I hid round the corner and listened, in case Nim needed backup, you know.’

I suppressed a grin. I hardly imagined gym-obsessed Nim would have any problems with the seriously unfit Steve, but I knew Leila would have been an excellent second, should he have required it. She might be significantly smaller than Nim, but her years of experience refereeing all manner of ball sports meant that she was not a person to be messed with. If you could survive the Year Seven netball tournament, you could take on the world.

‘You’ll be pleased to know that Steve was quivering from the moment Nim showed him his identification. He tried denying what had happened, of course, but Nim soon put paid to that, and he made sure he spoke loud enough that all the neighbours will have heard the exchange. And to be on the safe side, he had a chat with your former housemates to check that they were okay. They were appalled by what happened and send you their love. Apparently the guys rounded on Steve pretty quickly, practically throwing him out of his own property, which, frankly, is the least he deserves. The conclusion was that Steve has decided to move into one of his other places for a while – a studio flat with no room for anyone he could try anything on with. And Nim let it be known that the police force will be keeping a close eye on him. Your housemates have time to find other places to live, and hopefully Steve is so freaked out by being confronted by Nim that he’ll keep himself to himself in the future.’

I took a gulp of wine, disappointed in myself that hearing Steve’s name was still proving to be anxiety-inducing. I was relieved that my housemates were okay. Although we’d barely seen each other when I lived there, due to our differing work hours, I still felt bad about abandoning them. I only hoped Steve decided to behave himself from now on.

‘Please do say a big thank-you to Nim for me. It was very kind of him to get involved.’

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