Page 31 of Her Fixer Upper

‘In this instance, I will forgo my feminist principles and accept that offer without argument. And I’m afraid I’m not going to hurry, so maybe if Leila puts some newspaper down on the sofa, you can sit on it and wait for me.’

‘You could always share the bath,’ said Leila.

‘Don’t you start too,’ I said as I hurried past her.

‘Interesting,’ she said, looking from me to Charlie with a curious expression on her face. I hesitated by the bathroom door, knowing that I was probably abandoning Charlie to an interrogation Leila-style. But the siren call of the hot water was too strong. If Charlie could navigate the treacherous environment of social media for a living, then he’d be able to withstand Leila. Probably.

I must have put half a bottle of bubble bath in, and I barely turned on the cold tap, while the hot water thundered out like a thing of beauty. I had a quick pre-wash in the shower, a sensible decision given the colour of the water which went down the drain, and then I closed my eyes and sank into the bubbles so only my nostrils were above the water line.

No less than an hour later, I emerged from the bathroom, circulation restored and skin glowing, feeling like an actual human being for the first time in nearly two weeks.

Charlie did a double-take. ‘Hello, and who are you? I don’t suppose you happen to have seen my housemate, Freya? She’s about yay high, pretty grimy and is a dab hand at chucking stuff in a skip.’

‘Back off, Charlie, you’re not coming anywhere near me while you’re still covered in gunk. Off you go, enjoy your bath. If there’s any hot water left…’

He pretended to lunge towards me, reaching out his grubby hands, before he made a swift U-turn and disappeared into the bathroom, still laughing.

‘You two seem to be getting on very well,’ said Leila, her tone loaded.

‘What do you mean by that? Do you mind if I put the kettle on, by the way? I want to enjoy the luxury of being able to plug something in and watch it miraculously heat up water, rather than having to light a match and do battle with a camping stove.’

‘Be my guest. And I don’t mean anything. Just making a passing comment that you seem to be very friendly with each other. If it was anyone other than Charlie, I would almost say you were flirting.’

‘We are most definitely not flirting. We’re sharing a house. It helps that we’ve picked up our friendship from where we left off. He may be utterly infuriating at times, but he’s practically a brother to me.’

‘Remind me of how that goes in that Jane Austen book.Emma, is it?’ Leila had a worryingly gleeful expression on her face which I refused to rise to. When I remained stubbornly silent she shrugged. ‘Well, I’m glad things are going well. Neither at the killing nor the kissing stage. Yet. I’m proud of you. And how is Oak Tree Cottage?’

‘Full of character. By which I mean reducing my life expectancy by about a year with every additional problem we find. But we’ll get there eventually. Or so I keep telling myself. And of course, Charlie and I aren’t going to kill each other. Or kiss, for that matter.’ I knew Leila had only said it to provoke me, but I still felt the need to correct her very misguided assumption. Just because she was all loved up with Nim now, it didn’t mean the rest of the world had to conform to her rosy-tinted life-is-one-big-romance point of view.

‘Who’s getting a kiss?’ said Charlie, emerging from the bathroom a whole lot quicker than I’d expected and at precisely the wrong time.

‘Nobody,’ I said, as Leila started laughing.

ChapterFourteen

‘Right, what’s next on the renovation to-do list?’ asked Charlie, rubbing his hands together and looking at me expectantly. ‘We might as well make the most of our final day of freedom before real life beckons again.’

‘I thought I’d tackle the front steps,’ I said. ‘I’ve been reading up on some masonry techniques and Granddad’s talked me through it, so I’m hoping for the best.’

He looked at me with admiration. ‘That’s brave.’

‘Thanks for the vote of confidence, Charlie. It’s actually a cowardly move because if I mess up filling in the holes in the front steps and putting new slabs down, then it’s not the end of the world, whereas if I go wrong with strengthening the actual staircase inside the house, it will cause us a whole heap of problems. Filling in and replacing stonework is a simpler proposition than tackling actual woodwork. Studying carpentry techniques is next on my training schedule, although I’m hoping the stairs will hold out for a while so we don’t have to tackle them for a few months.’

‘You’re the DIY wonder woman,’ he said, watching as I set out my tools. ‘You quite put me to shame with your skills. We’re both willing to have a go, but of the two of us, you’re definitely much more effective in your work.’

‘You’ll get there, if you knuckle down to it,’ I said, not able to resist a slight dig at his chaotic approach to renovation.

Charlie looked around him, as if searching for inspiration. To be fair to him, there was so much to do, it was hard to know where to focus attention. ‘I’m not sure there’s enough room for me to try and help you. What’s on the list for me?’ he asked. ‘I’m afraid I lost the copy you gave me.’

I forced myself to count to ten, a technique I’d usually employ in the classroom when faced with a particularly challenging pupil. ‘You lost the list,’ I repeated quietly.

‘Yes,’ he said.

‘And what do you expect me to do about that?’ I asked.

‘Could you print off another copy?’ he asked, with a smile. ‘You put it together on your laptop. And I know what you’re like, you’ll have it saved somewhere in a folder carefully labelled ‘House tasks’ or similar.’

He was annoyingly accurate there.

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