“Hm.”
“At least, I expect it is. I don’t know much about boats,” she admitted.
“I expect that dulls the compliment a touch, then,” he replied, his voice dry and deeper than she’d expected.
She laughed, then looked up and down the quay. “Not many here that do the work alone.”
“Nope.”
“You get a lot of work?”
He shrugged. “Enough.”
“Enough so you wouldn’t like to have a lot more?”
He removed his cap then, and his look was more speculative. “For someone who don’t know much about boats, seems odd you’re expectin’ to need much shipwrightin’.”
Viv dropped to her haunches, tired of towering over him.
“Well, you’re right. I don’t. But wood’s wood, and craft’s craft. I watched you work. Live long enough, you realize some folks can be handed a problem and some tools, and they’ll sort it out. And I never think twice about hiring that sort of fellow.” Although, she reflected, the tools and fellows had been historically a lot larger and a lot bloodier.
“Hm,” he said again.
“I’m Viv.” She held out a hand.
“Calamity.” His own callused paw was swallowed by hers.
Her eyes widened.
“Hob name,” he said. “You can call me Cal.”
“Whichever you like best. I don’t need your name to suit me.”
“Cal’s fine. The other’s too much a mouthful.”
He folded the linen back over his lunch, and she now felt that she had his full attention.
“So, this… work. That a here-and-now sort of prospect or–?” He flapped his hand at some vaporous future.
“Here-and-now, well-paid, and with the supplies you ask for, not the ones I choose for you.” She withdrew her purse, opened it, removed a gold sovereign, and extended it to him.
Cal held out his hands as though to catch a toss, but she deliberately placed it in one palm. He pursed his lips and bounced it in his hand. “So. Why me, exactly?” He made to hand the coin back to her, but she declined.
“Like I said, I watched you work. Sharp tools. You clean as you go. Your mind’s on your business.” She looked around at the conspicuous absence of men nearby. “And you do it even when some might say it’s wiser not to.”
“Hm. So you want me for my lack of wisdom, eh? It ain’t boats you want built. What exactly have you got in mind?”
“I think I have to show you.”
* * *
“Wrack and ruin,”Cal swore under his breath. He removed his cap to tuck it into the top of his breeches.
They stood outside Parkin’s Livery, the stable doors thrown wide, and Viv experienced a momentary twist of uneasiness.
“Don’t know much about roofin’,” he said as he peered up at the hole.
“But you can figure it out?”
