Page 59 of Her Fixer Upper

But how long could I or should I carry on giving myself excuses? I was beginning to acknowledge that I spent far too much of my life taking refuge in rules and guidelines, keeping myself safe, not daring to take risks. But if I continued in that safety zone, would I ever be able to say that I was truly living my life to its fullest? I had taken a leap of faith buying a house with Charlie, the most daring thing I’d ever done. I was putting myself out there by applying for the Head of Department job. Maybe it was time to take another risk, allow myself to be vulnerable and open up to Charlie. Perhaps when he returned, I should be brave, and tell him how I felt. Because if I didn’t take that chance, and follow my heart for once, wouldn’t I always regret it? But I knew it was easy to decide that when he wasn’t around. It would take all my courage to follow through on my promise to myself once he was actually back.

I checked my watch, wondering when that would be. It was getting on into the evening, and it wasn’t like him not to have let me know he was planning to be late. But then again, one of the last things I’d said to him was to emphasise that we were leading separate lives and weren’t answerable to each other. Why should he tell me what he was doing? I decided to try to distract myself in the meantime.

‘Do you want to go for a walk, Ted?’ I hauled myself off the sofa, and into the kitchen, opening the back door into the garden. The wind sent a flurry of leaves into the room and the heavy rain started to form a puddle on the threshold within seconds. Although Ted had followed me into the kitchen, probably in the hope of getting a snack, when he saw the conditions outside, he looked at me as if I was deranged.

‘You’re going to have to go out. I know you’ve got a bladder like a barrage balloon, but it’s not good for you to be crossing your legs.’

Of course, the manipulative pooch managed to persuade me to go out with him by gazing up at me with sad eyes. I pulled on my wellington boots and a raincoat, then ended up standing over him in the garden with an umbrella so he didn’t get wet while I bore the brunt of the shower. The rain was lashing down, pouring in torrents and collecting in deep puddles on the uneven ground. The foliage was rustling, while the branches of the oak tree were creaking as the wind shook it to the very roots.

‘I hope your dad’s all right,’ I said to Ted, as we stumbled back into the kitchen after his quickest pee break ever, both of us dripping wet. I left my wet weather gear to dry in the sink. Maybe in the future we could build a porch area around the back door to make this kind of situation easier, I thought idly. If I spoke to Charlie and it turned out I’d got the wrong end of the stick and that actually he did reciprocate my feelings, we could stay here and continue to build our happy ever after, complete with back door porch. But it was a big if. ‘The weather’s getting really nasty, and the wiper blades on the Land Rover are a bit dodgy. I meant Charlie, by the way,’ I added, realising my slip. It was comforting to think of Charlie, Ted and me as some kind of family unit, though, as I reminded myself, even Ted was only here on loan while Granddad recuperated from his accident. ‘Should I text him, do you think? Make sure he’s okay?’ Ted seemed unbothered by the internal drama I was going through, returning to his bed and lying down with a contented sigh. Before long his legs were twitching as he relaxed into a puppy dream. ‘Perhaps you’re right. I did make a big point to him of saying we didn’t have to tell each other what we were up to.’

As the noise of the storm outside grew louder still, I decided to distract myself from wondering where Charlie was by putting up some shelves in the upstairs hall. After all, there was no reason to think that he’d be out and about in this weather, getting drenched by the driving rain or struggling to keep the car going straight in the wind. He was probably visiting his parents, or out with friends. Or maybe he was with Serena in a swish restaurant, laughing as they fed each other dessert, or settling down on the sofa at her place to watch whatever TV series they were bingeing as a couple. Stop it, Freya, best not to go there, I told myself.

I forced myself back to thoughts of shelving. The estate agent’s parting gambit had been to advise me to add a few more decorative touches and maximise the storage possibilities before we put the house on the market, so potential buyers could get a sense of the best use of the space the cottage offered. Bookshelves on the landing could only be a good thing, whether we stayed or left.

‘Do you want to come and join me, Ted?’ I invited, in need of his company, but he merely stood up and stretched, then turned his back on me and flumped back down on his bed with a big huff.

‘Et tu, Teddy?’ I said, feeling more alone than ever. ‘I’ll be upstairs if you want me.’

It still felt somewhat of a novelty to be able to turn the lights on to see what I was doing. I laid out the pieces for the shelves, then used my phone to scan the QR code that was meant to lead me to the instructions. Unfortunately, it came up with a ‘Page not recognised’ error, and when I tried to Google the manufacturer’s website to see if there were instructions on there, nothing appeared. Then my phone stopped connecting to any website at all. Perhaps the storm had got to the broadband.

I could hear Charlie’s voice urging me to go with the flow and have a try anyway. I knew he’d say something like, ‘What’s the worst that could happen? Trust yourself.’

Maybe he was right.

I measured the space, picked up the spirit level and made some pencil marks so I knew exactly where the first shelf would go. Then I decided to get a couple of books to make sure that I left enough of a gap between the next shelf. As the shelves were going to be slightly closer to Charlie’s room than mine, I went in there for the books – a lame reason, which I knew wouldn’t stand up to closer scrutiny. I’d not set foot in his room since we’d set up the double bed in there, deeming it better for my sanity to try to avoid that particular temptation. As I stepped over the threshold I saw how much of a change he’d made, every bit of the room reflecting his personality. The new plastering was even more smoothly done than in the dining room, and I recognised the tint on his walls as the left over ‘Grecian Skies’ paint from the kitchen. I noticed that his collection of pictures had finally gone up on display too. Only this time there was a new one there. Telling myself that I’d only take the briefest of looks, I stepped closer and peered at the photo. It was a selfie we’d taken to send to Granddad on the day that Ted had moved in. Charlie was holding Ted up to the camera between us, complaining that the little dog weighed a ton, all the while unable to stop himself grinning at his antics. I’d been in charge of taking the picture, I remembered, and Ted had wriggled so much that he’d nearly squirmed out of Charlie’s arms. The picture captured the moment where we were both laughing, our heads bent towards each other, our happiness evident. And then I looked more closely, and saw that Charlie wasn’t looking towards the lens. Instead, his gaze was fixed on me. Was that the expression Leila had meant when she said I didn’t know how he looked at me when I wasn’t aware of it? Because I thought I could recognise something there, the deep desire and longing that I felt must appear on my own face when I looked at Charlie. I could be mistaken, I firmly told myself. It was easy to look at a picture and see what I wanted to see. Photographs didn’t always tell the truth, they only reflected a moment in time. A chance expression captured in the briefest of flashes didn’t mean anything.

But why did he have this picture in his bedroom, displayed on the wall where it would be one of the first things he saw when he woke up and the last when he went to sleep? the little voice of desperate hope at the back of my head pressed.

I stamped down on it, hard. It was only a picture. It didn’t mean anything, and neither did the lack of a picture of Serena on the wall. For all I knew, she was the background image on his phone screen, somewhere where she could be seen and admired throughout the day. I had done enough speculating and second-guessing. The only way I could get answers was by talking to him, laying bare my feelings and accepting whatever his response might be. I forced myself to turn around and go back into the hall, all thoughts of picking up a book to help with building the shelves forgotten. I’d carry on without one.

‘Sod it, what’s the worst that can happen?’ I muttered as I picked up the power tool and started drilling into the wall.

And that’s when all the lights went out.

ChapterTwenty-Seven

My first thought was that I had gone through a power cable. I dropped the drill, panicking that it might be about to send an electric shock through me. But instead of that, it landed heavily on my toe, the pain of the impact completely knocking the wind out of me. I hopped around in the dark, swearing loudly, torn between relief that no one was here to see my incompetence, and disappointment that there wasn’t anyone who could show me some sympathy. If I hadn’t broken the toe, it would be a miracle. But as I got my breath back, I acknowledged that I cared less about the damage to myself than the damage to the house. If I had gone through a power cable, it would be a massive faff to sort out at best, and potentially very dangerous at worst.

Slowly, cautiously I hobbled my way to Charlie’s room once again, so I could open his door and get some light into the pitch-dark hallway. It didn’t make much difference. The village didn’t have street lights and any brightness from the moon was blotted out by the driving rain. I limped back along the hall and felt for the drill. It wouldn’t do to cause myself more injury by treading on it. Once it was safely out of the way, I scrabbled around feeling for the screws that I’d so carefully set out. Halfway through the task, my good sense returned and I took my phone out so I could use the torch.

I gingerly stood back up and then shone the beam of light on the hole I’d drilled into the wall. I didn’t want to get too close to it, but then again, it would be helpful to know if there was a live wire sticking out which could cause me further problems. I couldn’t see anything, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t there. The other place to check was the fusebox, but I was rather nervous of trying to make it down the stairs with my current injury.

I quickly concluded that this was not a one-person job, and that I was going to have to call for help, loath as I was to admit it. After wrestling with my head and my heart, I tried Charlie first. But it went straight to voicemail without even ringing. Granddad was next on my list, although I knew his assistance would have to be provided over the phone. Thankfully he picked up on the first ring.

‘Hello, and how is my favourite granddaughter?’ he said. ‘Funny you should call, I was just thinking about you and your young man.’

‘He’s not my young man, Granddad.’Unfortunately, I silently added as I patiently corrected him.

‘Yes, yes,’ he replied. ‘How is he?’

‘Charlie’s absolutely fine as far as I’m aware, as is Ted.’

‘But you’re not. I can hear it in your voice, love.’

He didn’t miss a trick, even though the line was crackly because of the weather.

‘I’m having a bit of an issue, Granddad. I think I might have drilled through an electricity cable.’ I tried to say it in as understated a way as possible so I didn’t worry him.

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