‘But the kitchen fitter’s coming to measure up so I need thewall to be down by tomorrow. That’s what we agreed, remember?’
‘Ah, yes. Can’t be helped, I’m afraid. You’ll have to cancelfor now.’
‘But can’t you just do the work here first? It won’t takemore than a few days, surely?’
He heaves a sigh. ‘No can do. As I said, this other job is abit of an emergency.’
‘But so ismine!’ I snap in frustration.
‘Okay, okay. Calm down, love. Getting annoyed won’t get usthere any sooner now, will it?’
My hackles rise at his patronising tone. ‘Well, obviouslynot. I’m just wondering why on earth you nevermentionedyou were doinganother job at the same time, and that it might compromise the work being donehere.’
He laughs. ‘Well, I could send you a copy of my weeklyschedule if that would make you feel better.’
‘I guess the other job is bigger and pays better?’ I demand,infuriated because I’ve paid him for work that won’t actually be done for weeksnow, and yet he’s acting as if I should just accept it without question. ‘Look,I don’t think this is going to work. I’ll have to look for another builder. Canyou return my money, please?’
‘Return your money?’
The doubt in his voice fills me with dread. ‘Yes. My money.’You’d think I’d asked him if he could install a new kitchen and bathroom andlay all the flooring by teatime.
‘Can’t do that, I’m afraid. You agreed to the terms,Lorraine.’
‘What terms?’ I feel like I’m talking to a brick wall here.‘Look, I paid you in advance so if you could –’
‘Ten days!’ he interrupts. ‘We’ll be back on site in tendays. How about that?’
‘No! If you’re not going to keep to the schedule we agreed,I’m cancelling our agreement and I’d like my money back.’ I’m actually shakingwith anger at his attitude. It’s clear I’ve hired a complete cowboy of abuilder!
He sighs again, as if I’m the one who’s being thoroughlyunreasonable. ‘Look, the money’s already been spent on things we need for yourjob.’
Yeah, right!
‘Take me to court if you like, Lorraine, but it’s hardlyworth it for a few hundred.’
I’m clearly getting nowhere here. Muttering ‘I’ll be intouch’ through clenched teeth, I disconnect the call.
Anger is simmering inside me.
My plans to get in and out of here, faster than the speed oflight, are in serious doubt now, thanks to shady cowboy builder Eddie. I’m backto square one – minus a chunk of the money I borrowed against Sycamore House todo the renovations.
The thing about spending four years in care, though, is thatI learned very quickly to be self-sufficient. Already, the cogs are turning inmy brain as I start walking briskly up the drive.
How hard would it be to knock down a wall anyway? Thatwaste-of-space builder isn’t the only one who can swing a sledgehammer, andthere’s sure to be some kind of tool in the shed that would do the job...
My pace quickens as I approach the front door, a feeling of determinationtaking over from the despair I was feeling a moment ago.
Walking into the kitchen, though, the first thing thatcatches my eye is the teapot, sitting by the ancient kettle and I’m assailed byan intense memory from out of nowhere.
Dylan and me, just little kids back then, laughing as Dadheld the teapot aloft, teasing Mum and pretending he was going to drop it. Mumclasping her hands together and pretending to beg because the teapot was herfavourite thing in the kitchen, but smiling because she knew Dad was only havingher on. Dylan grinning up at Dad, the suspense rendering him speechless, and megiggling with excited wonder, fascinated to see what would happen if the teapotreally did fall to the ground and smash into a hundred pieces.
I run my finger over the dusty teapot.
Dad loved Mum. He would never have dropped that teapotbecause he knew how much it meant to her. He was always making her laugh likethat. That was one of the reasons she loved him. He made her happy sometimes.
I swallow hard, jolted by another vision from the past.
She wasn’t laughing when Dad got so drunk, he passed outin the bath and almost drowned.
