Page 33 of Her Fixer Upper

And then I felt my phone buzz in my pocket. Hopefully it was Charlie finally getting back to me with a house update.

‘So, you’ll think about it, Miss Hutchinson?’ pressed Mr Rhys.

‘I uh…’ I hesitated, not sure how to respond. It would have been a lot to think about even without the work at Oak Tree Cottage to factor in.

‘The interviews will be held at some point in the autumn term, but as is always the way with these things, those in charge of making the decision will be watching the behaviour of any potential internal candidates most carefully from now onwards. And of course, my opinion will count for a lot.’ He checked his watch. ‘Right, I’m off to a meeting with a parent. By the way, the English Department needed some help clearing out the book room and moving everything into their new office. I said you’d be happy to oversee it. Have a good afternoon.’

‘Thanks, you too, Mr Rhys,’ I said, injecting as much positivity into my voice as possible to make up for the dilemma that was raging internally.

So, having moved house, I was now going to have to manage a move at work as well, while under the intense scrutiny of an interview panel for a job which I would apparently be perfect for because I was cheap. Brilliant.

I pretended to be heading to the English Department office, but as soon as I got around the corner of the corridor, I fished my phone out of my pocket. Unfortunately, there was no reassuring message waiting for me from Charlie. Instead, there was a quote from the window fitters that gave me an instant headache. We were lucky that Oak Tree Cottage wasn’t a listed building, with all the added rules and regulations to protect its appearance and structure, but we still wanted to do right by it, and that meant restoring it with the best-quality materials we could afford. The windows we wanted were exact replicas of the current ones, only in a much more durable material, and judging by this first quote, they were going to set us back a pretty penny.

I forwarded the message to Charlie, along with an entreaty to let me know that both he and the house were okay. Surely he’d respond to that? But my phone remained frustratingly silent throughout the afternoon, and when he still hadn’t replied by the end of the day, I had pretty much decided that I wasn’t being so paranoid after all. And despite knowing I should be on best behaviour given Mr Rhys’s announcement, I persuaded Leila to pick up my after-school supervision, and hurried away from work as soon as the bell rang. And then I waited at the bus stop, stomach churning, fearful about what I would find at Oak Tree Cottage on my return.

ChapterFifteen

Ipractically ran down the lane from the bus stop, dodging puddles and trying to keep my umbrella from blowing inside out, all the time wondering what would confront me when I turned the corner. But thankfully the house was still standing, although there was no sign of Charlie’s Land Rover on the drive. Perhaps he’d gone to the local library to work after all, and that was the reason he’d not replied to my messages. I felt relieved. I let myself in through the back door and picked up my head torch from the worksurface so I could see properly. Gingerly picking my way through the piles of debris, I prowled around the downstairs rooms, resting my hands on various surfaces to check whether they were dry. And then I took a deep breath and went upstairs, fearing that things would look very different.

The stairs did their usual creaking and groaning trick as I made my way up, and then I noticed another sound in the mix, the distinctive clink of water dripping into a metal bucket. Okay, one bucket on the landing I could live with. But what if it was one of many? I inspected my bedroom and checked the seal on the window covering, but thankfully all was okay in there, and the bathroom was clear too. I hesitated on the threshold of Charlie’s bedroom. It felt like an invasion of his privacy to go in there when he wasn’t around. But then again, what if water was pouring in through a hole in the ceiling, ruining all his stuff? I took a deep breath and went in, silently apologising to my house partner. Fortunately, the room also seemed to be leak-free, but I was surprised to discover that his air bed was deflated. By the looks of things, he had been sleeping on a yoga mat on the floor. It didn’t look exactly comfortable to me, but maybe Charlie preferred a firm surface. He’d made the room as homely as possible in the circumstances, with several framed pictures set up along the floor, perhaps anticipating their being displayed on the wall, once it was re-plastered and decorated.

There was one of Charlie’s family, his parents looking proud, his older brothers laughing, his twin sister Alexa rolling her eyes at the person behind the camera, who I assumed must be Charlie himself. There was the scan of an old black and white photo of Oak Tree Cottage looking pristine, which Sheila had dug out of the village archive for us the day after the Easter egg hunt. I guessed the picture was there to serve as inspiration, reminding him what we were going through all this hassle for. And there was one final snap that I was surprised to see, a real blast from the past. The last time I’d seen a copy was in a photo album at my parents’ house. It was of Charlie and me in our school uniform. We must have been barely five at the time, both of us looking slightly awkward and uncomfortable in our too-big uniform and shiny shoes, standing on the threshold of our classroom for the obligatory first-day photo. Charlie was gripping my hand like his life depended on it, his face slightly turning towards mine as if he was looking to me for reassurance.

Suddenly I was whisked back to that day, remembering how worried he’d been at being separated from his sister for the first time. They’d spent the whole of Nursery in the same class, and as twins they’d had an extra-special bond. My friend Charlie was a confident little boy, outgoing and full of fun, and I remembered how shocked I’d been to see him nearly in tears as his sister went one way down the school corridor and he’d had to go another without her. I’d promised him then that I’d look out for him, a normally shy little girl finding strength because she couldn’t bear to see her friend in distress. He’d repaid that promise a dozen times over throughout our primary and junior school careers. And weren’t we still looking out for each other now by buying this house together? I felt a surge of affection for my old friend, glad that we were by each other’s side during this pivotal time.

But thinking of being by each other’s side, where was Charlie and why hadn’t he replied to my messages? It really wasn’t like him to go incommunicado, unless something was wrong. I glanced out of his bedroom window, and that’s when I spotted the collapsed roof of the outbuilding which was going to become his office. I’d walked straight past it when I’d got home from school, as the area where the roof had collapsed was at the back of the building, so it wouldn’t have been obvious to the casual passer-by at ground level. But the view from above unfortunately gave all too stark a display of the destruction wrought by the heavy rain. One of the supporting beams had detached from the building. One end was sticking up towards where that section of the roof had been, while the other end was buried in a pile of debris, consisting of smashed slate tiles from the roof, and bits of rubble and brick from where the beam had sheared off.

My heart started beating more rapidly. Suddenly the fears of my overactive imagination didn’t seem so unlikely after all. I disregarded all logic, forgot that Charlie’s car wasn’t even here, and panicked. What if Charlie had decided to work in there today after all and was now lying trapped, pinned to the floor by the heavy weight of the wreckage?

I ran down the stairs, barely able to catch a breath, the fear pressing down on my chest. If anything had happened to Charlie, I would never forgive myself. I fought my way to the back of the outbuilding, charging through the undergrowth, not even caring as the brambles tore at my clothes and the tall nettles stung every bit of exposed skin they could touch.

‘Charlie, are you in there?’ I yelled. I picked my way into the ruins, ignoring the ominous groaning sounds that were coming from the remaining roof struts. ‘Charlie? Can you hear me?’

The raindrops were collecting on the lenses of my glasses, obscuring my vision. I took them off and shoved them in my pocket. And then I examined every inch of the wreckage, pulling piles of rubble back with my bare hands, scrabbling at the stones, terrified by what I might be about to find. Finally, I got through to ground level and only then did my heart rate slowly start to return to normal. Wherever Charlie was, he wasn’t lying underneath this lot. I closed my eyes and took a few deep breaths, the sense of relief overwhelming. The thought of losing my oldest friend was too awful to contemplate.

Eventually, I found the strength to stand up, embarrassed that I had got myself into such a state, and relieved that nobody had been around to witness my panicked overreaction. I was soaked through, covered in scratches and nettle stings, and aching all over. It was stupid of me to get so wound up. I stumbled back inside and peeled off my ruined work clothes, rubbing myself vigorously with a towel to get my circulation flowing again, and cleaning the scratches as best I could. And then I pulled on my tatty dungarees and a top with sleeves so long they hid the scratches on my hands, and gingerly got on with examining the damage to the ceiling from the leak at the top of the stairs in a bid to distract myself from my ridiculous behaviour and the emotions that had been stirred in me at the thought of Charlie being hurt.

Some time later I heard the sound of a car pulling up outside. I slowly made my way into my bedroom and peered out of the one remaining window. A sleek sports car with a sunshine roof was parked in front of the house. Of course, given the foul weather, the roof wasn’t open, but I could see through it, recognising Charlie in the passenger seat from his tousled hair. I nearly opened the window to call hello, relieved all over again that he had finally reappeared, but something made me hesitate. And then I saw the woman in the driver’s seat lean across and pat him on the leg. He threw his head back as if he was laughing at something she had said, then he got out of the car and stood waving it off as it sped up the lane, despite the rain still thundering down around him. I felt a pang of loss which I couldn’t, or wouldn’t, examine further.

By the time Charlie came into the kitchen, I was sitting on my camping chair, pretending to be completely absorbed in my marking.

‘Good day at the office, dear?’ he said, continuing the jokey conversation we’d had before I set off to work that morning.

‘The usual,’ I said, not really feeling like joining in the banter. It seemed unfair that he was in such a good mood when I’d gone through such trauma on my return from school. Rationally I knew he wasn’t responsible for how I’d reacted, but the strength of my emotional response had shocked me and put me on the defensive. ‘And how was your day? Get up to anything exciting?’

I stopped myself asking who the woman in the sports car was, telling myself it was absolutely none of my business who Charlie chose to spend his day with. Charlie didn’t need to justify any of his friendships to me, another friend.

‘I had a bit of drama at lunchtime when it started raining and the outbuilding gave up the ghost, but I think we’ve come off lightly in the cottage itself. As I discovered when I took a closer look, the leak at the top of the stairs is due to a couple of roof tiles that have slipped out of place, no big deal. And my dad rang asking if he could use the Land Rover while his car is in the garage. But in between all that, I actually managed to get some work done.’

‘Well done you,’ I said, still studiously avoiding asking him about the woman in the car. And then I remembered something else he had said. ‘What do you mean, you took a closer look at the cottage roof? Through binoculars I assume?’

Charlie cleared his throat. ‘Um, well actually…’

‘Oh my goodness, tell me you didn’t climb up there while you were at home alone?’

‘It seemed like a good idea at the time,’ he said.

‘Jeez, Charlie. Anything could have happened. Especially in this rain. You could have slipped on the rungs of the ladder and fallen to the ground. You could have broken a leg. Heck, you could have broken your neck. And it’s not like any of the neighbours are near enough to have heard a cry for help.’ I jumped up and started pacing anxiously around the kitchen. ‘This is exactly what I was worrying about.’

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