‘Is it too cold to have a barbecue? I prefer to eat outside if I have company,’ he volunteered.
‘Really?’
‘What? Let me guess: you had me down as a man who collected Michelin-starred experiences? You’ll have to stop making assumptions about me, Aria Wilson.’
‘Fair enough.’ She thanked him for the ride and told him she’d see him later.
‘Text me when you’re done and I’ll pick you up if you like.’
Two hours later, her hands were muddy, and her back was hurting. She’d made the mistake of picking up where she leftoff, pulling stones out of the dried-up stream and carting them to the water source to clean before chucking them back in her wheelbarrow. She broke for a late lunch, munching on a cheese sandwich she’d made from some sourdough. He hadn’t mentioned splitting the shopping bill – another feature of their cohabitation she was grateful for. She vowed to make him some jars of chutney when the vegetables came up. His house was starting to feel more of a friend than an enemy too. She particularly loved opening up that panoramic glass wall to feel as though you were sitting outside, while you had your feet up on the comfiest sofa on earth. No wonder he wasn’t keen on TV – the visuals were all at the lake. She groaned as she stood up. Just getting the stones from A to B was so time-consuming, she hadn’t started on cutting back the grass that sent an endless supply of runners down the path of the water. Abandoning it, she disinfected some shears and began cutting the box while the weather was dry. The dense hedge was patchy, brown and skeletonised in places, and she carefully started thinning it to improve airflow. The job was finished quickly, but mindful of spores, she spent an inordinate amount of time collecting up the clippings and leaves. Then, making sure the tools were cleaned properly, she switched back to the ivy she’d started last time. The air was significantly cooler when she sat down, sweaty and exhausted, on mossy grass that badly needed treating. Working so hard, but barely making any progress, she figured she’d earned little to nothing for all the hours of toil. She drained the water from her litre bottle and grunted in frustration.
‘Long day?’ Nic could not have looked cooler as he pitched up in front of her in a pale-blue crew-necked jumper andjeans. ‘I know the weather isn’t particularly hot today, but I figured you might like one of these?’
‘Oh, my God, you are amazing!’ Aria pounced on the ice lolly he’d brought, ripping the wrapper off and getting stuck in.
‘You’re a biter, then? I confess I’m a licker!’
She was amused to see Nic crinkling his nose at his double entendre. ‘I’ll be anything you want if you bring me these at the end of every shift,’ she replied coquettishly.
‘I might, if it gets this kind of response,’ he grinned. ‘But you looked upset when I arrived? S’up?’ he asked, sitting down beside her on the grass.
‘I’m gutted,’ she confessed. ‘I’ve cocked up on the estimate. Basically, I’ll be working for next to no money as every single plant in this overgrown paradise is more difficult to tame than it looked. I started in the wrong places and now realise I should have left some things out of the quote altogether. Like that bloody stream over there.’
‘What stream? All I can see is a pile of mucky stones.’
‘Exactly. If the water was running freely, it would regulate itself. But it’s pump-operated and over the autumn and winter it got clogged with silt and leaves. I’m having to individually wash every single pebble.’
‘That sounds like Sisyphus pushing his rock up hill. Why didn’t you ask to be paid by the hour?’
‘Because she told me to provide an estimate for the whole job,’ Aria sighed. ‘And I’m not a gardener. All I know is what my dad taught me when he was helping the old ladies out or sorting the garden at the hut. I miss him, Nic.’
When he offered a hug she leaned into it, putting her head on his shoulder, feeling the solidity of him while trying not to snot on his sweater. But she was also embarrassed about how she smelled.
‘I’m muddy,’ she said, pulling away. ‘But thanks for the hug. Why are you here? I didn’t call you.’
‘There’s no signal, anyway. I found out after trying to phone to ask if you prefer fish or steak. And then I remembered you have a fishing hut and could probably catch dinner for us.’
‘I hope you bought the meat.’ Aria absent-mindedly picked some moss out of the grass. ‘I can’t fish for toffee. That was all a ruse to make people think I was a day-tripping angling enthusiast.’
He snickered and confirmed he went for cow above cod. ‘Or the best part of it, anyway. Two nice wagyu steaks. Let’s do a quick tour of the garden together and then go home and redo the quote you sent your contact.’
‘Oh, I can’t do that. It would be unprofessional. I’m showing another house for her tomorrow, and I don’t want to upset her.’
‘Contractors do sometimes change quotes if they realise they made a mistake on first sight. Trust me, it happens.’ He offered her a hand up and grabbed the discarded wrappings from the ground. ‘Favourite ice cream?’
‘All of them.’
They walked around the gardens as he’d suggested, talking through the original estimate and options for revision. ‘So, you’d let one of your builders go back on a quote?’ she asked, interested to see how he operated and wanting more reassurance.
He didn’t answer straight away. ‘To be honest with you, it depends.’
‘On what?’
‘The stage of the project. Before contracts are signed, I might be more open to some renegotiation. Likewise, if there’s been a genuine error and not just some fuckwit picking a random figure out of the air. Clerical errors sometimes happen, like someone leaving a zero off. I guess if we have a longstanding relationship I’d go easier. And sometimes we have to bend if labour is scarce and we wouldn’t get anyone else to do the job in the time frame. Sounds like your estate agent needs you as much as you need her, so you might be lucky. Maybe next time look at a time-plus-materials contract.’
‘There’s no contract. I put down some figures and she agreed to them.’
‘Just talk to her. People work with people they like and trust. An honest conversation goes a long way.’
