Page 3 of Fake Rocks
Uncle Col snorted. “He doesn’t need to look nice, Annie, he needs to be able to pull a shift and get a sweat on.”
“I can definitely do that.” I dipped my hash brown into the egg yolk, savouring the runniness. Eating an egg which didn’t taste like rubber was a culinary revelation.
“And he can still look nice while doing it.” Aunt Annie ruffled my hair before sitting down to eat her own breakfast.
It had only been three days since I’d arrived at my uncle and aunt’s place.
My uncle worked in property maintenance and had a successful business doing renovations, painting and decorating. His pipeline of work had recently exploded following a job for a high-profile client, and now he was getting requests from all over the place. While he had a good crew working with him, he couldn’t be everywhere at once and needed an extra pair of hands to help him with a particular job. One he didn’t want to let just anybody do.
The timing had worked out perfectly for me. Unemployed and broke, I needed something to get me back on my feet, not to mention a roof over my head. I had no support up North and had turned to Uncle Col for help. He was more than willing to take a chance on me, knowing my history and the fact Dad had been in and out of my life when it suited him.
Since my mum had died, it had just been the two of us, although I couldn’t say Dad had been the pillar of strength and support I’d needed. From the age of twelve, I’d pretty much brought myself up, learning to cook, clean, wash clothes, all the things I previously relied on her for. School didn’t hold much enjoyment for me either. I scraped a few qualifications and ended up getting jobs in call centres or restaurants and bars. It was an existence; it was hardly a life. One day I’d returned to the flat belonging to me and Dad only to find he had disappeared, leaving a note and the name of his current girlfriend. I couldn’t pay the rent on our flat, and I struggled to get a job to make ends meet.
Within days, Uncle Col sorted out the flat, packed up my belongings and relocated me to the outskirts of London with him and Aunt Annie. I wasn’t sorry to see the back of my old life and coming down here was the chance to make a new start, one I desperately wanted, the opportunity to start over with a clean slate.
Mindful I didn’t want to keep Uncle Col waiting, I ate breakfast as quickly as I could without giving myself indigestion. I figured I’d also need to maintain a level of exercise to keep in shape—Aunt Annie was definitely a feeder.
Taking the stairs two at a time—hey, I had to start somewhere—I went to the bathroom and brushed my teeth, grabbed a jacket and my phone from my room and I was ready to take charge of my own life again.
“For fuck’s sake, why does this always happen on the day I start a new job?” My uncle bent over the steering wheel and huffed at the stationary traffic on the motorway in front of us. “I left in plenty of time.”
I laughed. “Sod’s law, isn’t it?”
Everything that could have gone wrong had. We hit a queue almost immediately we turned out of our road, then there were roadworks and unexpected traffic lights—which had crazy phasing—before we’d even hit the motorway. It looked as if there had been a bump further along the road. Nothing serious, but with the rubberneckers slowing down to gawp, the tailback was increasing.
“Do you want me to call the client and let them know we’ll be late?” I asked.
Uncle Col shook his head. “Not yet. Let’s see if we can get past this in the next ten minutes, then we should be fine.”
There was nothing to do but wait. Uncle Col had the radio on in the van, tuned to some sports talk show I wasn’t interested in. I wished I’d brought headphones so I could stream something on my phone. Still, I shouldn’t complain this early on in my new career.
I slouched in the passenger seat, staring down at the cars inching along the carriageway. “Who is your job for?” I asked.
“Ourjob, Tris. We’re working together on this.” He shot me a wide grin. “Some hot shot in the music business, you’ve probably heard of him.”
“What’s his name?”
“Can’t remember.” Col sniffed. “Probably should do really. Annie will kill me if she doesn’t know the details when it’s time for invoicing.”
“Sounds about right. Maybe I’ll recognise him when I see him.” My mind conjured up all kinds of potential celebrity clients, then I realised Uncle Col probably didn’t quite move in the same circles as Simon Cowell.
After about quarter of an hour, we passed the cause of the traffic and sped off towards Central London. When we headed into the Royal Borough of Kensington and Chelsea, I knew Uncle Col’s client would have to be absolutely minted. Properties in the area must be upwards of a million just for a one-bedroomed apartment. Maybe it was a job for Simon Cowell after all.
We pulled up in front of an unassuming, mid-terrace property, with peeling white paint on the walls and a shiny new olive-green front door. I had no doubt once we’d finished the renovations, it would look much more like its pristine neighbours instead of the odd house out.
“Phew.” Col let out a hard breath. “Made it with time to spare. We’ll go and introduce ourselves first, get the lay of the land and then come back for the tools.”
For some reason, I was nervous. It was like the first day of school all over again. But then again who was I? Col’s lackey. The hired help, nothing more. I was no-one and I had nothing to worry about.
I still shifted with nerves, despite what I told myself, as Col knocked sharply on the door and we waited for an answer. No one came and Col slipped his hand into his pocket to pull his phone out and call the owners when the sound of the door latch rattled from the other side.
Nothing short of a vision opened the door. Dressed in a white Nirvana t-shirt which barely hid her modesty; with long, shapely legs, a smattering of tattoos and pink/blonde hair pulled back in a messy ponytail; a woman about the same age as me stared at us.
“Yeah?” she snapped. “Who are you?”
“Morning, love, I’m Colin Judd. We’re here to start the renovation work on the house?”
“I’m not your love.” Her gaze slipped to me and I swear she gave me the once over. She turned back into the hallway. “Jonas! Your contractors are here.” Then she swung around and headed into the house, leaving me to catch glimpse of the curve of her buttocks.
