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Mr Holdsworth generously picks up the bill, and everyone shakes my hand and wishes me luck as we leave the restaurant. Grace pulls me to her and hugs me fiercely.
‘Let’s stay in touch, yeah? I’ll text you,’ she tells me.
I hug her back and smile. I’m certain I’ll never hear from her again, but I appreciate the sentiment.
* * *
I feel a surprising sense of relief as the train pulls out of Charing Cross. It was nice to see everyone, and I did enjoy the lunch, but I don’t belong here any more. I’m itching to get back to Sevenoaks and my new life. I’m also looking forward to the redundancy payout hitting my account next week; I don’t have a lot of outgoings, but it will be a while before I can start taking any money from the café, so it will be a useful buffer to keep me going.
Mick is loading up his van when I get back, and he smiles broadly when he sees me. ‘All done. Do you want to see?’
I’ve purposely not been up to the flat while the renovations have been going on, partly because I didn’t want to annoy Mick and his team by being under their feet, but also because I find it difficult to visualise how something is going to look when it’s a work in progress. Mick hands me the spare keys and we walk round to the front of the building together, let ourselves in the bottom door, and climb the stairs.
‘Oh, wow!’ I gasp, as I push open the front door and step into the living room. Fred’s flat is unrecognisable. What was a dark, dingy, cluttered space when I first saw it is now bright, airy, and feels thoroughly modern. The magnolia paint on the walls combines with the biscuit-coloured carpet to create an impression of space, and I can barely hear the traffic on the road outside through the double-glazed windows. The kitchen is beautiful; Mick has pandered to my desire for a tiled floor by laying a tile-patterned vinyl, and the dark blue tiles on the walls offset the white cupboards and wood-look worktop perfectly. The double oven still has its protective plastic on it, and a sleek induction hob is set into the counter, with a light and extractor fan overhead. Mick opens one of the cupboards to reveal the built-in dishwasher.
‘It’s all good-quality stuff, but I didn’t go mad on the budget,’ he tells me. ‘The units came from Magnet Express, so we can replace them easily if they get damaged. I got the appliances from a friend of mine who runs an electrical shop, so I got a decent discount on them. Would you like to see the bathroom?’
I’m reluctant to leave the kitchen, but I follow him. The horrible stained units are all gone, and the bathroom now looks inviting. A sleek-looking power shower stands over the pristine white bath, with a glass screen to stop the water from escaping. I’m trying hard not to fall in love with this flat but I’m failing. I need reminding of the bill to keep my feet on the ground.
‘It’s beautiful, Mick. Absolutely stunning. Better than I could have dreamed. Give me the bad news now, what’s the damage?’
He smiles again. ‘I think I said you wouldn’t get much change from fifteen grand, didn’t I?’
‘Yes.’ I steel myself for the true figure. I’ve watched enough episodes ofHomes Under the HammerandGrand Designsin my time to know that the initial budget is always way too little. It’s got to be at least £20,000, probably more.
‘Well, with the discounts and everything, plus a couple of guys who owed me favours and did the work I couldn’t do for peanuts, the whole lot has come in at eleven and a half grand so you’ll get some change after all.’
I wrap my arms around him and hug him tight. ‘You’re a star, Mick. I mean it. Thank you so much.’
‘The question is, are you still going to let it or are you going to move in?’
‘I don’t know. I’d love to move in, but I don’t have any furniture or anything.’
‘That’s true, but you do have three and a half grand that you didn’t think you were going to have. I reckon that would get you started quite nicely if you were careful. You’d be amazed what you can pick up in the YMCA furniture shop and places like that. Quite a few of them will deliver, too. Just a thought.’
Could I live here, I wonder? I walk back into the kitchen and imagine myself cooking an evening meal. Maybe Katie would be sitting out in the living room, with her legs tucked under her as she concentrated on solving a thorny homework problem. The neutral colour palette is exactly what I would have chosen for myself, and I realise that I don’t want anyone else living here.
‘You’re right, Mick,’ I tell him. ‘I’d be mad not to move in.’
24
I’m starting to worry that I’ll never be rid of Rita. She’s still barely civil to me, but she’s being ultra-careful to make sure that she stays just within the limits of acceptable behaviour, without actually doing any more work or being less surly. I feel like we’re doing some kind of dance around each other; we’re both failing to conceal our mutual dislike, but neither of us wants to provoke open warfare. I don’t really know why she hasn’t resigned, as she can’t be enjoying working here. Sometimes, I can hear her huffing and puffing as she struggles with the coffee machine, but at least she hasn’t tried to sabotage it again. Ron and Agnes have also settled down. Now that they’ve worked their way through all the coffees, they’re tending to stick to one or two that they like. They’ve started sharing a table, I notice. Bronwyn tells me that they’re also arriving and leaving together. I decide to do a little probing to see if I can find out what’s going on. Instead of letting Rita carry their breakfasts out to them, I take them out myself.
‘Morning, Ron, morning, Agnes. How are you both?’
‘Fine, thank you, dear,’ Agnes replies, with a smile.
‘It’s nice to see you two sitting together and chatting,’ I venture. ‘I did wonder about suggesting you shared a table a while ago, but I wasn’t sure how you’d feel about it.’
‘I’d have said no,’ Agnes tells me, very firmly.
‘Why, out of interest?’
‘Well, he’s a man, isn’t he?’ she says, indicating Ron. ‘For all I knew, he might have been one of those stalkers, or rapists, or whatever you call them.’
I look at Ron. Try as I might, I can’t imagine him as any of those things. He raises his eyebrows but says nothing.
‘So, what changed?’
