Page 23 of Her Fixer Upper

‘I suppose if I did, I could sell my story to the papers and it would boost our renovation budget,’ said Charlie, ever the optimist.

We sat side by side, our backs against the now bare wall.

‘You’ve made some good progress in here already,’ said Charlie, nodding towards the pile of wallpaper in the centre of the room. ‘What shall we put up in its place? Once we’ve checked for damp and replastered first, of course.’

‘A functioning window might be a good place to start,’ I said trying to keep my tone as positive as possible, even though I was already calculating what the unexpected damage might do to our budget. Although we’d known we’d have to replace the windows at some point, I hadn’t anticipated it would be quite so soon.

‘We’ll find a way of boarding it up until we can afford a replacement,’ said Charlie. ‘It’s no big deal.’

If only that was true.

‘I suppose at least now we have some running water, we can move the plumber back down the priority list,’ I said.

‘Judging by efficiency of The Rules, that’ll be a colour-coded list in an Excel spreadsheet, I’d imagine.’

‘Never underestimate the power of an Excel spreadsheet, Charlie,’ I said, unable to resist taking the bait. ‘I like being organised and in control of my situation. There’s nothing more satisfying than ticking something off a to-do list.’

‘I can think of plenty more satisfying things,’ said Charlie, mischief in his expression.

I cleared my throat. ‘How’s that hand doing? I think it’s probably soaked for long enough now. Ready for me to have another go?’

He flexed his fingers, shaking the excess water off, and then looked away from me. ‘Count me down to it, so I know to brace myself for the pain.’

‘Three, two…’ I pulled the splinter out before I reached one, figuring he’d be more relaxed that way, trying to do it as swiftly and gently as possible.

‘Ooooo-uch,’ wailed Charlie, rolling over onto his side and clutching his hand to him.

‘Oh my goodness, I’m so sorry. Are you okay?’ I said kneeling beside him and patting his shoulder, feeling horribly guilty that I’d removed the splinter when he wasn’t ready for it.

‘My hand, my hand,’ he groaned, in such a melodramatic manner that I could be in no doubt that he was faking the whole display.

‘You’ll definitely be the leading man of the local amdram group, you great big wuss,’ I said, relieved that his play acting had dispelled the unexpected tension I had been feeling. I playfully slapped his side as he rolled back towards me and grinned widely. ‘Either that, or you’ll be the star signing of the local football club, trying to distract the ref from your dirty tactics by pretending to be mortally wounded. I think we’re even on the house-induced injury front. Perhaps now we’ve had our quota of drama for the day, and hopefully for the week, we can work out what we’re going to do about breakfast.’

‘Fine, if you’re not going to kiss it better, I guess we can get the kettle on,’ said Charlie, leaping up and putting his injured hand out to help me up too.

I rolled my eyes, then got up under my own steam. I was rapidly realising that sharing a house with Charlie was definitely going to keep me on my toes.

ChapterEleven

Charlie didn’t tell me we were drinking water from the tap until I was on my second sip of coffee. I hastily put the mug down and experimentally smacked my lips as I tried to work out if it tasted any different to normal.

‘We’ll be fine, Hutch. The water was boiled. That will have killed off any nasty bugs,’ he said confidently.

‘I hope so. I had planned to spend the Easter holidays getting started on the renovation work, not curled up nursing a dodgy stomach.’

We were sitting on the fold-out chairs in the kitchen, the camping stove set up before us, a couple of veggie sausages apiece starting to sizzle in the frying pan.

‘You’ll be fine. And if you do get the runs, at least the toilet is flushing now.’

I pulled a face. ‘Delightful, thanks for that, Charlie. I’d really rather not think about that eventuality. How’s your work schedule looking anyway?’

‘I have a few bits I need to do for some clients, but I’ve tried to keep the next couple of weeks while you’re on school holidays as free as possible so we can make a joint start on things. I was going to suggest we began by clearing as much of the decor as possible, but after what happened with the wallpaper in your room, I’m not sure that’s such a good idea.’

‘We’ll dig out some masks, and I’ll be fine,’ I said. ‘The problem earlier was that I got a proper faceful of dust. My lungs will acclimatise to the new environment before long. I think we should wear masks anyway. I don’t think it would do either of us any good to inhale too much of the accumulated dirt of several decades.’ I glanced around the kitchen and sighed. ‘Everywhere I look, I spot something else we’re going to have to sort out. Perhaps it’ll look less daunting once we’ve eaten.’

‘Speaking of which, I think these are done,’ said Charlie, leaning forward and turning the camping stove off. ‘Red or brown sauce in your sausage sandwich?’

‘Charlie Humphries, what a question to ask. Red, obviously. It’s sacrilegious to suggest anything else.’

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