‘Thought the place looked different,’ said Colin. ‘I’ll start in the kitchen with the boiler. I assume you still want the new one in the same position?’
‘Yes, please. Unless you think it’ll be better elsewhere.’
‘Makes no difference to me. I’d keep it where it is. It’s out of the way but easy to get to if you need to.’
‘Then that’s where it’ll be. I’ll call the cleaners.’
Lara had no idea how long it might take to completely rewire and replumb the cottage, but both Bob and Colin informed her that, all being well, they would be finished by lunchtime on Saturday, so apparently, two and a half days. She managed to cancel Ula and Greg without too much trouble and to rebook them for another clean on Saturday afternoon.
‘You’re lucky because we’ve just had a cancellation for Saturday,’ she was told by the woman she had spoken to previously, ‘so we can fit you in. I wouldn’t do this for everybody, but as you’re a friend of Tom’s I’ll make an exception. Especially as you saved his life.’
‘How did you hear about that?’ Lara was aware that villagers had a reputation for spreading gossip like wildfire, but news of her so-called heroics had reached the ears of all and sundry within hours of the event, it seemed.
‘From Shirley, of course,’ the woman said, as if Lara would know who Shirley was. ‘We’re all so relieved. It can sometimes take us a while to warm to incomers, but as you knew Tom, most of us were ready to welcome you into the fold. After this, everyone in the village will treat you like a friend.’
‘Oh. That’s … nice.’ Lara couldn’t think of an appropriate word to describe how she felt about that. Obviously, it was good to know that the villagers would welcome her, but it was also a little creepy in a way. Like she had now joined some sort of cult or something. Or maybe she was simply feeling tired and was overreacting to a friendly comment.
‘Do you know a woman called Shirley?’ she asked Colin, who was removing the old boiler when Lara went into the kitchen to make herself a coffee, shortly after that call had ended.
‘Shirley?’ He grinned at her over his shoulder. ‘Everyone knows Shirley. She’s the Reception Manager at The Cliff Surgery. She’s also Captain of the Ladies’ Darts Team at The White Lion. And the musical director of the Bluewater Bay Women’s Choir. Why?’
Well, that explained how news of Tom’s accident had spread so far and so fast.
‘No reason. Her name was mentioned, that’s all. Oh. That’s either your son, or Bob’s nephew,’ Lara said, when the doorbell rang.
‘Too early for Paul,’ said Colin, ‘and if that’s Harvey, I’ll eat my hat.’
Lara didn’t ask which one was which, she would find out soon enough.
But when she opened the front door, she was greeted by a team of three men, one of whom was Roger, the roofer, who was standing on her doorstep, while the other two were opening the tailgate of a flatbed lorry piled high with scaffold poles and boards, that was boxing in her car.
‘Oh, hello. I wasn’t expecting you to start until tomorrow,’ she said, unsure whether she was pleased or disappointed to see him today.
‘Good morning to you too,’ said Roger, good naturedly. ‘I’m not here to start on the roof. I’m here to get the scaffold up. You didn’t think we’d be up and down ladders, did you? Can’t do that these days. Not with Health and Safety breathing down our necks.’
‘No, I … Erm. I didn’t think about it,’ she said, truthfully. ‘I can’t recall you mentioning it, but it’s been a hectic couple of days.’
‘So I hear. Good on you. We need more people to look out for their neighbours.’
‘I only did what anyone else would have.’ How many times had she said that since yesterday? ‘Will the scaffolding take long to put up?’
The other men were already offloading the poles and boards so she didn’t want to tell Roger that she was hoping to drive into the village this morning to get supplies for Nicodemus and they would need to move the lorry to let her out.
‘Should be up by lunch. We’ll be back tomorrow at eight to make a start on the roof and we’ll be here on Saturday morning. We’ll make sure the place is watertight over the weekend, so don’t you worry about that. Then we’ll be back first thing on Monday, and by Tuesday evening, with luck and the weather on our side, you’ll have your new roof. Wednesday at the latest. Thursday at the worst. Friday if…’ He laughed. ‘No. I’m joking. The roof will be done and dusted by Tuesday. We might need to pop back on Wednesday though to take the scaffolding down.’
‘That’s … wonderful.’ She was really struggling for words today and it dawned on her that she was exhausted. On top of that, she felt more than a little overwhelmed by everything that was going on.
Until this week her days had begun at eight-thirty and after the din of her alarm had been silenced, she had tumbled out of bed, gazed out of her bedroom window for a few moments, made herself coffee and ate breakfast in the relative peace and quiet of her kitchen with just the faint rumble of traffic passing by. Then she had spent all day, every day, even sometimes at weekends, ensconced in her cosy home office, working on whatever project she had to complete.
During the course of a week, she might have spoken to one of her colleagues at Pliny Software on a work-related issue, orto Jenny for a friendly chat, and occasionally to the postman or woman, or a delivery driver, but that was it.
Her evenings would invariably have been spent watching TV, reading, drawing, or just lying around on the sofa planning adventures she knew she would probably never take.
Once or twice a week she would go to Jenny’s house, or Jenny would come round to her flat. Sometimes they would go out for a drink or a meal, or to the cinema. Most nights she would be in bed – alone – by ten-thirty, or eleven at the latest.
That had been her life. Until she had made a rash, and drunken, decision to purchase a cottage in Bluewater Bay.
After living on her own for so many years and having few visitors other than Jenny, being in this cottage was starting to feel as if she were living in Piccadilly Circus.
