Page 58 of Her Fixer Upper

I glanced at the clock on the oven, trying to avoid looking at The Rules, which were still propped up as a terrible reminder on the worksurface. Not long until the estate agent was due to arrive.

‘Shouldn’t you be at work?’ I said, deciding it was better to get straight to the point.

‘I’ve taken the day off. In fact, I was thinking about dropping the Saturday job altogether. I thought it might be nice to be able to spend a bit more time here, not be disappearing for half the weekend.’

‘I wouldn’t be too hasty about making the decision,’ I said. It was a steady source of extra income for him, and I knew it would be useful when he was paying a mortgage solo.

‘Oh.’ He sounded disappointed. ‘I thought you’d be pleased.’

‘You’re not obliged to do things to please me,’ I said. ‘What you choose to do with your life is your decision, and the same goes for me.’

Who was this ice-cold Freya? A quick glance at him told me that the apparent indifference in my tone had made its point. I decided to hammer it home. It would be much better to get him out of the house before the estate agent arrived. I’d had enough confrontation for one day.

‘And don’t bother with the breakfast. I thought I’d made it clear that we were looking out for ourselves now. To make things easier.’

‘It’s no bother,’ insisted Charlie.

‘Maybe I don’t want you cooking for me, Charlie. I know you’re trying to be kind and making it up to me, but I’ve got the message, and I’m trying to move on, as you want me to. But I can’t do that if you insist on making things difficult by being so bloody nice all the time.’

Ted stood up at the distressed tone in my voice, and slunk to his bed, burying his nose in his paws and making himself as small as possible, as if by pretending to be invisible he could disappear from this situation. I could empathise with that feeling.

Charlie set the frying pan and wooden spoon carefully down on the worksurface and took a step towards me. I backed away, not able to bear the thought of him coming near me. It would be too painful when I knew I’d only want him to be closer still. It was that automatic reaction of flinching that seemed to cause him the most hurt.

‘What are you talking about, Freya? Forgive me for apparently being unable to read between the lines, but I don’t have a clue what you’re going on about. What do you mean, you’ve got the message?’

I was actually crying now, and my weakness in showing the extent of my vulnerability to him made me even angrier.

‘Stop pretending, Charlie. The situation is what it is, and you don’t need to worry about me being a problem any longer, okay?’

Before he could answer, there was a knock at the door. Charlie looked like he wanted to finish the conversation off first, but good manners got the better of him. Although I knew who would be there, and that it might be better for me to run interference, instead I took the opportunity to quickly blow my nose and try to look more respectable, even though I knew my eyes would be red regardless.

‘Good morning, good morning,’ said the estate agent in what felt like an overly jolly manner. ‘Great to see you both again. I must say you two have done a fine job. I would never have expected the place to look this good in so short a time. If I hadn’t seen the sign for Oak Tree Cottage by the front door, I would have assumed I’d taken a wrong turning and gone to a different house.’

‘Can I help you?’ said Charlie, looking completely confused.

‘I’m here for the valuation,’ said the estate agent, before I could stop him.

‘The valuation, right,’ said Charlie, looking back across at me with an expression of such hurt on his face that I felt chilled to the bone. I shrugged my shoulders, feigning indifference. He might be cross for a short time because I hadn’t consulted him about it, but longer term he’d come to see the sense in my idea. It would set him free, I told myself once again.

When I didn’t say anything else, Charlie shook his head, as if he was disappointed with me. ‘I don’t know what to say. I guess this is my cue to leave,’ he said. ‘Don’t wait up for me.’

And with that, he snatched up his car keys and strode out, the door slamming behind him. I strained my ears to hear the sound of the Land Rover’s engine fading into the distance as meanwhile the estate agent kept up a torrent of meaningless conversation.

‘Mrs Humphries, shall we start upstairs and work down? Mrs Humphries?’ he repeated as he tried to get my attention.

‘It’s Miss Hutchinson, actually. And yes, take your time. I’ll leave you to it.’ I couldn’t bear the thought of seeing his face as he translated our hard work into a price. However high it was, it would never truly reflect the value of what this place had given me – and what it had taken away.

I sat down on one of the camping chairs while I waited for him to do his job, and experienced yet another pang of nostalgia. What would happen next? Where would I go from here? I couldn’t imagine living in a new place without Charlie at my side. My dream of home ownership had changed. I knew I’d find the strength from somewhere to carry on, and maybe one day put this behind me, but equally I knew that it would be like living life in monochrome.

‘It’s the right thing to do,’ I said to Ted, who merely blinked at me. ‘Honestly, it is,’ I insisted. ‘Before you know it, you’ll be back with Granddad, Charlie will be happily moving on and probably shacking up with Serena, and I’ll…I’ll be back at square one. No, that’s not right, I’ll be Head of History and rising in the ranks of the professional world. I’ll find my own place one day.’

But it wouldn’t be Oak Tree Cottage, a home where every inch of floorboard, every lick of paint held memories of Charlie and me.

The estate agent eventually left, whistling happily. As expected, we wouldn’t make as much profit as we would have if the place was finished and pristine, but we’d certainly have enough to give us a modest deposit apiece. Financially I would be in a better position than before. Emotionally was a different matter.

I spent the rest of the day burying myself in schoolwork, putting on a hoody and then pulling a blanket over me on the sofa as the wind got up and the rain started lashing down. The cottage was certainly less draughty than it had been, thanks to our new windows, but we were definitely going to have to look at fixing the central heating before winter set in, I thought. And then I reminded myself that there was no guarantee that we would still be living here by then.

The hours slipped by, and still there was no sign of Charlie. Maybe he’d gone to work after all. I fed Ted, and forced myself to have something to eat as well, but I got no enjoyment out of the meal, remembering Charlie’s cheerful offer to make me breakfast this morning and my cruel rejection of his kindness. I considered his actions more carefully, replaying our discussion. It was like picking at a wound, but the more I thought about what he’d said, and the way he’d said it, the more I started to wonder about the confusion in his manner. When I had said I’d got his message, he’d seemed not to know what I was talking about. Could it be that I was the one who’d got the wrong end of the stick, who’d jumped to a conclusion? All he’d done was hand over the framed copy of The Rules, from which I’d drawn a whole heap of assumptions. And didn’t a part of me wonder if I’d jumped on that interpretation of his actions because it gave me a convenient excuse? All along I’d been finding reasons to justify not telling him how I felt, from not wanting to risk our mortgage, to the presence of Serena in his life. Because to confess my true feelings to Charlie would be to make myself completely vulnerable, to expose myself to the risk of his rejection. In deciding that he was sending me an oh-so-subtle message with The Rules, I’d saved myself from that vulnerability. And yes, it had caused great pain in other ways, but it was an expected pain, one that I could handle. Because hearing Charlie spelling out a rejection in actual words would be a very different thing.

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