In my head I could see Frank holding up his torn suit trouser leg and demanding I pay him thousands of pounds to repair it and asking why I had disobeyed him. My heart began to thud. What the hell was I going to do?
‘There’s also something else.’
I groaned. ‘What?’
‘I found something in the inside jacket pocket.’
‘Like what?’
He got up from the table. ‘I’ll be back.’
Panic set in as I glanced at the snow falling on the Velux windows. With all the snow, how would I get Frank’s trousers fixed?
With a flick the construction sheet opened, and Ben stepped into the kitchen. ‘Any chance of a cuppa?’
The memory from yesterday where he’d made that silly comment about whether it was wise for me to let Grandpa borrow Frank’s suit rushed back to me. For a few seconds I considered telling him to make the tea himself, but I decided to be the bigger person and rose from the table to switch on the kettle.
Ben pointed at Humphrey. ‘You found him yesterday?’
‘Yes, he took a lonely widow to the Senior Tea Dance.’
Ben looked a little surprised. ‘Really?’ He scratched his head. ‘How did he do that?’
I explained about Dorothy and how Humphrey had brought down a silver shoe from her wardrobe.
‘I heard your grandfather say he’d torn Mr Baxter’s trousers.’ He arched one of his eyebrows at me, which was infuriating.
‘Why are you earwigging on my conversations?’
He shrugged. ‘You both speak in loud voices so…’
‘Haven’t you got enough building work to be getting on with?’ I interrupted him and raised my eyebrow at him.
‘I bet you’re worrying about getting that torn suit trouser mended?’
I wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of knowing the torn trouser leg was on my mind. ‘No, I’m not,’ I lied. ‘My brother-in-law will be cool with it.’
‘Cool?’ Ben questioned. ‘He doesn’t strike me as the kind of guy who would be cool with you and your grandfather vandalising his suit.’
A red filter slipped in front of my eyes. ‘We were not vandalising his suit.’
Ben’s eyes left my face and were focused on something behind me. Shock swept over his face. I felt a tap on the shoulder. I whirled around to see Grandpa holding up a pair of fluffy pink… handcuffs. ‘I found these.’
‘Oh God, Grandpa,’ I gasped, snatching them from him. They were the last thing I expected Grandpa to find in Frank’s pocket. ‘Let’s put these away.’
I turned to Ben who was looking awkward. ‘Excuse me, whilst I deal with this.’
‘I’ll make my own cuppa then.’
‘Come on, Grandpa, let’s go sort this issue out,’ I said, gesturing for us to leave the kitchen. My face felt red hot. Ben did not need to see a pair of fluffy pink handcuffs. What must he think of us?
‘I had to show you them,’ hissed Grandpa, as we entered the hallway.
‘Grandpa, let’s put them back,’ I said, feeling uncomfortable. Guilt nibbled away at me. ‘We should never have borrowed Frank’s suit. Whatever Frank and my sister get up to in their spare time is none of our business.’
Once we had put the handcuffs back into the pocket of the suit and I’d sweated profusely at the noticeable tear in the trouser leg, Grandpa suggested we go play cards in the living room. He raised his hands. ‘No cheating, I promise. You look like you need to calm down. My news about Dorothy must be shocking.’
I sent Grandpa a look of bewilderment. It wasn’t his newfound love for Dorothy that had produced the damp patches under my arms – it was the damage to Frank’s suit, which probably cost hundreds of pounds, even thousands; plus the memory of Grandpa holding up fluffy pink handcuffs in front of the builder.
