Whistling to himself like a proper tradesman, Vince excavates the shed to find the toolbox (Kate had hid it really well) and locates a screwdriver. The night of the book festival party, Colin had popped the door’s hinge pins in an envelope labelled HINGE PINS and slid them into a kitchen drawer, so they’re no trouble to find. Blimey, Vince muses. Colin should be someone’s back end instead of being abused by gym-shirking teenagers every day of his working life.
However, when it comes to the meaty part of the job, it’s not so easy. Groaning loudly, Vince tries to manhandle the door into place. But he can do this. He’s looked on YouTube and knows he has to position the door on its hinges and then insert the hinge pins and voila! Job done!
The hinge pins are in his jeans pocket and he’s holding the door and fishing out a screwdriver from his other pocket. That takes one hand, and with his other two hands he tries to reposition the door as it needs to be flush with the frame and it’s a bit wonky and hang on – how many hands is he supposed to have?
He only has two. Is he meant to have sprouted another one? Now he’s dropped the screwdriver – ‘Shit!’ he shouts. He’s still holding the door with both hands; no,onehand like some display of strength performance at a circus and he’s trying to reach the screwdriver from the floor while propping up the door and twisting painfully and Jarvis is watching the fascinating spectacle with his pink tongue hanging out.
‘Pass me the screwdriver!’ Vince shouts. But Jarvis merely ambles off to the kitchen.
Vince wants it to stop now – the holding and reaching and twisting. Because he’snota tradesman, he’s a comedian, so why should he be expected to be able to do this stuff? It’s like Kate with the bake sale! Why should being a woman mean you’re automatically good at cakes? Then suddenly he’s not holding or twisting or even thinking about Kate. He’s not even standing or seeing anything because the door crashes down on him, throwing him backwards and his head cracks against the wall and Vince’s world goes black.
CHAPTER FORTY-SIX
Kate
The restaurant is perfect. Small and busy and smelling delicious, with glowing lights. ‘Isn’t this so thoughtful of Liv?’ I say.
‘She’s not too bad, is she?’ Fergus says with a trace of pride.
‘She’s lovely,’ I say. ‘And you’re a great dad.’
‘I don’t know about that,’ he says, brushing it off with a smile. But I understand the feeling. When your child has reached adulthood and they do something, some tiny thing maybe, that makes you think: they’re okay. It’s all turned all right in the end. And I wonder now if it will all turn out okay in the end for us too.
We eat and chat and drink and it’s lovely, even though I need to saythe thing.
That I hadn’t been booked by Alice after all, but had pretended to be the other Kate. It’ll be okay, surely, I reassure myself as we drink our wine.
‘Y’know, I’ve loved you being here,’ Fergus ventures when our plates have been whisked away.
‘I’ve loved it too.’ I look at his face across the table in the candlelit glow. ‘It’s been... wonderful really.’
‘D’you think you’re going to settle up here?’ he asks.
I pause, wondering what to say. ‘I don’t know, Fergus. It depends on so many things...’
‘Like what?’ he asks lightly.
I sip my wine, wondering what I’m trying to say. ‘I love working in the shop – you know that.’
‘I’m not really talking about the shop, Kate,’ he says with a wry smile. And I know exactly what he means.
He wants to know about us. And what I’m feeling about him, and being here. ‘I’m just enjoying things,’ I say, ‘as they are.’
He nods, taking this in, and then looks at me across the table and says, ‘Whatever you’re feeling, it’s okay, you know? It’s good!’
The smile breaks over my face like a wave. Could it really be as simple as that?
‘Really?’ I say.
‘Of course,’ he says with a small laugh. ‘Why not?’
But there’s something you should know.‘Fergus,’ I start, ‘the thing with Alice. With me working with her...’
‘What is it?’ he asks.
I pause and take the deepest breath. ‘It just... it didn’t quite happen in the way you think it did. I mean, the way Imadeyou think it did. What I led you to believe...’
He chuckles bewilderedly, gaze fixed on mine. ‘What youled me to believe?What is this, Kate? What’s it all about?’
