‘I suppose letting me stay in my studio for another three months isn’t an option?’
Jago frowned and bit his lip, but then smiled and shook his head. His crooked, quirky smile lit up his grimy, unshaven face like an industrial light in a house without electricity. ‘What about another cup of tea and sandwich instead?’
Helena shrugged and smiled back. ‘If that’s all that’s on offer, it is about lunchtime, I suppose. But I’m a bit muddy to eat.’
‘One day there’ll be a wet room with a waterfall shower head. Currently it’s a bucket and a sponge, taking me back to my car-washing days.’
‘I’ll just go back to my studio then, but thank you for the offer.’ She started to stand up but he was up before her.
‘Go back and shower but, please, come and eat the sandwich afterwards. Or I’ll just feel terrible.’
Helena considered telling him how terrible it was knowing one was about to become homeless, and, more importantly in her case, studio-less. While she could always stay with her mother, her large loom could not – it took up far more space than she did. But what was the point? ‘OK.’
‘So, what can I make you? Cheese and ham on sourdough with salad, mustard and mayonnaise? I could toast the bread – might be nice?’
‘Hold the mustard,’ she said, ‘and toast the bread and it sounds like the perfect sarnie.’
‘It may not be perfect, but it will be good, I promise,’ he said. ‘Don’t be too long!’
Helena’s hair was still wet and knotty when she returned. She had put it into a rough plait and tied the end round with wool as it took so long to dry properly. She hadn’t put on any make-up, because, as she would report to Amy later, she wasn’t going to dress up for a man when she didn’t want a man. She did, however, want a sandwich.
She could see that Jago had done a bit of tidying in the kitchen while she’d been in the shower. There were fewer power tools on the work surfaces and there was now a board on the worktop on which he was assembling ingredients.
After watching him cut a gherkin into wafer-thin slices she said, ‘Do you mind if I ask you why you seem to have several different styles of units in here?You’ve got a Shaker and a very modern alongside some interestingly retro orange knotty pine. What look are you going for?’
He laughed. ‘The orange knotty pine, of course! No, actually, I’ve just put in here bits of kitchen that no one else wants. People are always ripping out kitchens and starting again. I can often repurpose the good stuff but there’s always a bit left over which is what I get to keep. I’ll do something to make it all look a bit more sensible eventually – when I get round to it.’ The toast popped out of a very old-looking toaster that had a pattern of poppies and wheat ears on it. ‘My sister gives me all her cast-off toasters but I’ve kept this one. It’s old but it always works.’
He assembled two sandwiches so efficiently that she guessed he had worked in a sandwich shop at one time. He put mustard on one sandwich and put the other on a plate which he handed to her.
‘Now, eat that and tell me it’s not worth rescuing a kitten for!’
‘Are you still sure I couldn’t swap it for an extra three months?’ Helena asked, suddenly ravenous at the sight of the sandwich.
He sighed. ‘Quite sure. I was pushing it when I gave you six months when I first bought the property. But your studio, and the one next to it—’
‘Amy’s,’ said Helena.
‘That’s right. The two together are going to become a two-bedroom cottage for a family. They’vebeen waiting to move into it for ages. I really do want to get on to it and that means I have to have you out.’
‘So what about your own house? Couldn’t you spend your time on that, and leave me and Amy alone?’
He shook his head. ‘I only work on my house between working on proper jobs.’
‘So my studio’s not going to be a holiday home?’ Helena and Amy, neighbours and old friends, had spent a lot of time raging that their studios were likely to be turned into holiday lets or second homes.
Jago shook his head. ‘Nope. All my projects are for families who want homes. Or – to be fair – single people as well. But they have to have a commitment to the area. Now please start – I’m longing to know if you like it.’
Helena felt a bit nonplussed as she took a bite of sandwich. She needed time to process this. All property developers were evil, everyone knew that. Why was this one not conforming to type? ‘Oh God!’ she said after a couple of chews. ‘This sandwich really is delicious!’
‘Told you!’ Jago bit into his own version. ‘I haven’t lost it. I used to work in a sandwich bar.’
‘I guessed as much.’
‘Would you like a beer with that?’
Helena shook her head. ‘No thanks. Another cup of tea would be great though.’ She might have togo and see her mother anyway when she’d finished her throw, just to pass on all the details she’d discovered about the man who was making her homeless. She didn’t ever drink and drive. It was such a shame Amy was away – she’d find it even more fascinating.
She sipped her tea when it came and carried on eating. Eventually, when she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand in case there were traces of mayonnaise around it, she said, ‘What’s the kitten’s name?’
