Page 20 of The Secrets of Dragonfly Lodge
After that, her morning was constantly interrupted. First of all, Ted clumped about on the staircase whistling to himself, then he went outside and she heard him fossicking about in his van below her window. She craned her neck in curiosity as he drew out some narrow lengths of wood. Finally, she twigged. Her mother must have asked him to fix a rail to the staircase and he’d come immediately. Stef could hardly complain, having made the suggestion the day before. But her mother would have told her, surely. A thought occurred. Had Ted simply turned up out of the blue and her mother thought up a job for him to do? That idea made her feel uncomfortable.
She sighed. At least the handrail issue was being dealt with. After a while, she became accustomed to the noises of sawing and drilling. By the time she went down for a break, pleased by what she’d written, she felt good-humoured enough to offer Ted a coffee as she passed him on the stairs. He’d screwed the lengths of rail to the wall already without, she noticed admiringly, damaging the wallpaper.
‘Nice work,’ she commented.
‘I should have thought of doing it before,’ Ted murmured as he wiped the wood clean of sawdust. There was an expression of concern in his eyes and Stef felt touched by his care for her mum.
‘And I should have said something to Mum when she moved in.’
‘Ah no, there was lots to do. It’s a lovely little place she’s got here, but plenty still to sort out. Some of the window frames at the back are rotten, that’s another job to do before the winter.’
The sense of presumption set her on full alert. Her eyes narrowed. ‘Has she asked you to do those?’
‘Not yet,’ he said, reaching for a can of wood varnish. ‘Getting ahead of myself maybe.’ He concentrated on levering off the lid with a screwdriver. ‘Will you hand me that brush? That’s it, thank you.’
Her nose wrinkling at the stink of the varnish, Stef hurried off to the kitchen, where she put the kettle on.
‘I’ve left your coffee on the kitchen table,’ she said in clipped tones on her way upstairs with hers. Ted stood back to let her pass, but shortly after she’d started editing her article she heard his footsteps recede, then a moment later a distant sound of voices from behind the house.
By the time he left, an hour later, his van roaring up the lane, Stef had only a couple of references left to confirm. Once these were done, she closed the document, checked her emails, stretched and sighed, enjoying the feeling that she’d done a good job. Hopefully the ecology magazine’s editor would think so, too. She would have another quick look at the piece after lunch before emailing it off. Being careful not to get wet varnish on herself, she went downstairs.
‘Ted’s done well there,’ she said to her mother, who was preparing a green salad in the kitchen.
‘You sound surprised. Do you like spring onions? I’ve forgotten.’
‘Sure. I didn’t mean to sound surprised. It’s just… Did you ask him to put the rail up?’
‘You and I talked about it!’
‘But you didn’t explicitly ask him before he arrived, did you?’
‘I don’t remember, darling. It needed doing and I’m glad he came.’
‘So you weren’t expecting him this morning.’
‘No. It’s nice that he popped by, though. He’s very thoughtful like that.’
‘Mum, are you sure that he’s not…’ Stef paused, trying to choose her words tactfully.
‘What, darling? Now, where’s the olive oil? I’m sure I bought a new bottle.’
‘… taking advantage.’
‘Don’t be ridiculous. Of course he’s not.’
‘He’s charging you for these jobs, is he?’
‘I think that’s my business, Stef.’
Stef was taken aback by the steel in her mother’s voice. ‘Sorry. I’m only trying to help.’
‘Let’s have lunch, shall we, and talk about something else.’
Stef, crestfallen, watched her mother fetch cheese and hummus out of the fridge and decided to say no more. She felt very protective of her mother, but Cara was on the defensive.
Instead, they discussed how long Stef would stay. Stef thought another night. She’d work in the morning and perhaps leave late afternoon. She was surprised to feel sad at the thought.
After lunch, she sent off her article and was suddenly overtaken by a longing for chocolate. Finding none in the house, she called to her mother, who was painting out in the field, that she was going to the village shop.
