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‘Well, if you’re sure you don’t mind.’
‘I could even throw in a few swimming lessons as well if you want,’ he added with a grin.
Philippa laughed.
It was a long time since he had heard Sally laugh, Joel recognised.
* * *
‘There, that should do it.’ Joel grunted as he gave the spanner a final twist. ‘A nut had worked loose, that’s all,’ he told Philippa as he crawled out from behind the washing machine. ‘You shouldn’t have any problems with it now.’
‘I’m really grateful to you,’ Philippa told him ten minutes later as she poured him a cup of tea. ‘Even with the benefit of the book I doubt that I’d have even been able
to locate the problem, never mind fix it…’
‘It didn’t need much skill,’ Joel responded wryly. ‘Just a bit of brute force…’
‘Don’t do yourself down,’ Philippa told him. ‘Do you know how much I would have been charged if I’d called someone in to put it right?’
‘Perhaps Daphne’s right,’ Joel commented. ‘She’s always telling Sally that I ought to be out trying to make a bit of money instead of wasting my time at the gym.’
‘You’re not wasting your time,’ Philippa protested. ‘Not from what you’ve told me. It must be very satisfying, helping people to achieve something… teaching them…’ she said enviously.
‘It is,’ Joel agreed. ‘Before I got involved at the leisure centre I suppose I’d have laughed at anyone who told me how good it would make me feel watching those kids… They really put everything they’ve got into it, you know. Neil’s hoping that next year we’ll be able to make up a junior team at competition level as well as the seniors. He’s got this idea that if we can pick them out young enough——’
He broke off, shaking his head.
‘Sorry, you don’t want to hear all this…’
‘Yes, I do,’ Philippa contradicted him.
He paused to look at her and then smiled. ‘Neil wants me to help out with the adult classes, but I’m not sure. It’s one thing to teach kids…’
‘You’ve got nothing to lose in trying,’ Philippa told him.
He paused to take a bite of the cake she had cut him and frowned.
She had been to see the boys at the weekend and thanks to Susie’s generosity she had been able to take them some of their favourite carrot and raisin cake. The slice she had just cut for Joel was a piece of it.
‘What’s wrong?’ she asked him. ‘If you don’t like it…’
‘No… I do. I was just wondering what was in it, that’s all.’
‘Oh, dear—are you allergic to…?’
‘No, it’s not that. It’s just… well, since I’ve been reading up on all these training manuals, I’ve been doing a bit of experimenting… with Sally working, she expects me to get some of the kids’ meals and… they’ve been complaining that the only pudding I give them is fruit salad,’ he explained bashfully, ‘and I was wondering…’
‘Oh, yes. I’m sure you’d be able to make this,’ Philippa assured him, guessing what he wanted to ask. ‘It’s very easy and quite healthy as well… my boys both love it. I’ll write down the recipe for you if you like.’
How different she was from Sally, Joel reflected—Sally, who complained that she didn’t like the way he had rearranged her kitchen cupboards, who said that he made too much mess when he cooked anything.
‘It’s quite cheap to make as well,’ Philippa told him.
‘Like my fruit salad,’ Joel responded. ‘How are things with you?’ he asked her quietly as she got up to get some paper and a pen.
‘Oh, not too bad,’ Philippa fibbed lightly.
She was still waiting to hear from the bank and the wait was stretching her optimism to its limits. The small sum she received from the social services didn’t go very far at all, and, if it weren’t for Susie’s insistence on constantly inviting her round for meals and then sending her home with the left-overs, Philippa suspected that she would be reduced to surviving on a very meagre diet indeed.
