‘Then it’s not really an emergency, is it? I’m rushed off my feet as it is. I might be able to squeeze you in on Tuesday morning. Early. If it’s not a big job.’
‘Tuesday? But … it’s Sunday today.’
‘Tell me about it. Sorry. Tuesday’s the earliest I can do. You could try someone else.’
I had already called five others. Two just laughed. One simply hung up. The others didn’t even answer their phones. But then again, as I had said, it was Sunday today.
‘But … itisan emergency. Maybe not to you. And perhaps not as much as some others, but it’s an emergency as far as I’m concerned. Your website states that you provide same dayemergency call-outs, so why can’t you come today? Are you really that busy?’
‘As we both agree, it’s December and it’s freezing,’ he repeated. ‘This month and next are my busiest times. Tuesday is the earliest I can do.’
‘What am I supposed to do until then?’
‘You could stay somewhere else. It’s only a couple of days. Surely you can manage until then?’
‘That’s easy for you to say. Your heating is working perfectly, I don’t doubt.’
‘It is, thanks. Shall I book you in for Tuesday?’
‘Do I have a choice?’
‘Not if you want me to come and look at it, no.’
I slumped onto the sofa and glanced out of the sitting room window. There was still no sign of the sun even though it had supposedly risen over an hour ago. The sky was as leaden as my current mood and the sight of my neighbour, Marcus, hurrying down his garden path in his thick padded jacket, jeans and boots, his scarf flapping in the wind, and his woollen hat pulled down low over his ears, made me shiver, despite the cottage having finally warmed up. In fact, I was now feeling a little too warm, having dressed in a pair of black twill trousers, a white cotton blouse, and a Christmas-themed red and green jumper.
Marcus was heading towards the wooden footbridge a few metres from our front gates. It was our only means of crossing Midwinter Brook, other than wading through the water. There was an area on the other side of the brook that had reserved parking spaces for our three cottages, the lane itself being far too narrow to allow a vehicle to pass. It was built in the days of horse and carts, and I use the word ‘built’ somewhat loosely, because even now Midwinter Lane was unadopted and made up of sandstone, rocks, and rubble with the odd smattering oftarmac dotted here and there. The car parking area was a much more recent addition, and thankfully, that had been tarmacked.
I let out a sigh of resignation. ‘Then I suppose it’ll have to be Tuesday. If that’s really the earliest you can do.’
‘It is. What’s your name?’
‘My name’s Noelle.’
‘Noelle? Well, that’s a first. The first Noelle.’ He virtually sang the words.
I rolled my eyes. If I had a pound for every time I’d heard that comment over the years, I’d be rich.
‘Yes. That’s smart, Alec,’ I quipped, and then realised it might not be wise to be sarcastic. ‘Look. You will turn up, won’t you? I’d booked a plumber to fix the tap last week and he never showed. I don’t want to wait until Tuesday and then find I need to get someone else.’
‘Oh yes. I’d forgotten you mentioned a tap. What’s wrong with the tap? Wait. If you knew that you wouldn’t need me. Right?’ He chuckled. ‘What I meant was, is it dripping? Or something else?’
‘It thinks it’s a shower. But it only does it sometimes. It was fine when I filled the kettle but when I rinsed my mug, I got drenched.’
‘Hmm. Sounds like a water pressure problem. I’ll sort it out on Tuesday. And I’ll be there, Noelle. I promise. If I get a cancellation, or I can make it sooner, I’ll let you know.’
‘Thanks,’ I said. ‘I’ll see you soon then, I hope.’
I rang off, reluctantly got up from my comfy, navy velvet sofa, and walked to the kitchen, eyeing the tap warily.
Could I refill the kettle without getting drenched? I was yearning for another mug of coffee. I could put on my raincoat, perhaps. At least then if the tap spurted water all over me, I would still be dry.
Or I could go and see my parents earlier than I had planned. Their tap was working perfectly, as far as I knew. I was going there for Sunday lunch in any event. I might as well go early and get a cup of coffee thrown in. If my heating was still playing up later, I would need to ask if I could stay with them until Tuesday, so if I went early, I could build up to asking that. The heating had come on today, but it might not do so later. Or tomorrow. I loved cold weather, frost, ice, and snow, but only when I was dressed for it and was outdoors. Indoors, I expected to be warm and cosy without wearing several layers of jumpers, coats and scarves.
Now I was beginning to wish I had gone for a wood burning stove in my sitting room, or at least kept the old gas fire that was already there. At least then, if my heating gave up, I would still be able to warm at least one room of my cottage. But the thing had looked like a bit of a death trap, so I’d had it taken out. I had meant to get one of those gorgeous, real flame effect electric fires to replace it but for some reason, I still hadn’t got around to finding one I liked.
I should’ve been working instead of considering going to my parents’ house early. I needed to make more Christmas decorations; some to fulfil specific online orders, and some to sell at the market in town on Thursday. I had a stall there every Thursday on Market Day, and last week, I sold out. Not one single decoration was left by the time I packed up at five.
Luckily, I had more stock at home, because the Fairlight Bay Christmas Market officially opened on Saturday, and during the festive season, which began in late November in Fairlight Bay, I also had a stall on Saturdays. I’d taken extra stock, just in case, and it was a good thing I had, because yet again, I sold every item.
