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‘Morning,’ he called. ‘Everyone sleep okay?’
‘Great,’ Amelia lied.
Jake’s mouth quirked like he knew she was lying, but was too polite to call her on it. ‘Right. First things first—safety briefing. No one touches anything until we’ve covered the basics.’
He started by revisiting the safety protocols: hard hats, safety glasses, and proper footwear. How to handle power tools safely. What to do if something went wrong. How to spot hazards. When to ask for help.
By seven-thirty, they’d erected the first section of scaffolding under Jake’s supervision. He showed them how to do it once, talking through each step, then had them dismantle it and reassemble it themselves whilst he watched critically.
‘Good,’ he said when Amelia secured the last clamp correctly. ‘Check it again.’
She did, double-checking every connection the way he’d taught them.
‘Now test it,’ Jake said. ‘Put your weight on it. If it’s going to fail, better now than when you’re thirty feet up.’
The scaffolding held solid.
‘Excellent work,’ Jake said, and the warmth in his voice made Amelia’s chest feel tight. ‘You’re a natural at this. Good spatial awareness, attention to detail. Those are crucial for building.’
‘Thanks,’ Amelia managed, trying not to blush.
They broke for water at eight, already sweating in the climbing heat. Tom arrived with his toolbox, greeting everyone cheerfully.
‘Put me to work,’ he said to Jake. ‘I’m old, but I’m useful.’
‘You’re not old, you’re experienced,’ Jake corrected with a grin. ‘There’s a difference. I could use help getting the roof section marked for repair. You up for heights?’
‘Are you kidding? I’ve been climbing roofs for forty years. My knees don’t love me for it, but I can still do it.’
By nine, work was underway properly. Sophie and Jill had gone to work. Tom and Jake were on the roof assessing damage, marking sections for replacement. Alex coordinating material deliveries with Ryan from the hardware store. Amelia working on ground-level demolition inside, carefully removing damaged sections of wall under Jake’s earlier instruction.
‘See how this edge is curled?’ Jake said, crouching beside her on the scaffold platform. ‘That’s wind damage. We need to remove the whole sheet, but carefully—don’t want to damage the ones we’re keeping.’
He demonstrated the technique, his hands sure and efficient. Amelia watched closely, trying to memorise every movement.
‘Your turn,’ Jake said, handing her the tool.
She positioned it the way he’d shown, but her angle was slightly off. Before she could adjust, Jake was there, standing behind her, his hands covering hers on the tool.
‘Like this,’ he said quietly, adjusting her grip. ‘Feel the difference? Less force, better leverage.’
Amelia couldn’t feel anything except the warmth of him pressed against her back, his breath stirring her hair. She managed a nod, not trusting her voice.
‘Try it now,’ Jake said, stepping back.
The iron came away perfectly, exactly as it should. She looked up at Jake with triumph, and something flickered in his eyes—pride, maybe, or something warmer.
‘Well done,’ he said. ‘Keep going. I’ll be right here if you need me.’
They worked through the morning, the sun climbing higher, the heat intensifying. Jake was endlessly patient, teaching proper technique, correcting mistakes without making her feel stupid. When she did something right, his praise was genuine but measured, which somehow made it mean more.
Around eleven, Sassy’s truck appeared, horn honking cheerfully. Jill was driving
‘Lunch!’ she called, climbing out with several large containers. ‘Can’t have your workers fainting from hunger!’
They gathered in the shade of the old verandah, grateful for the break. Sassy had sent sandwiches, cold drinks, and fresh fruit.
‘How’s it going?’ Jill asked, settling into a camp chair Alex had set out for her.
