Page 24 of Her Fixer Upper

As I prepared the sandwiches, Charlie rummaged in our box of food stuff, which we’d placed on a counter top, hoping it would deter any of the house’s four-legged residents from exploring it.

‘And it’s a question I’m going to regret asking, as it would appear that I failed to pack either. Or the rats have run off with the ketchup already. Oh well, at least the sausages are hot. Cheers.’

He knocked his sandwich against mine like we were clinking glasses, then we settled into enjoying our meal.

‘The food of champions,’ said Charlie some time later.

‘Agreed. And as you cooked, I’ll do the washing up.’

‘How very civilised of us. Perfect house partners.’

Unfortunately the good-humoured sense of togetherness slightly wore off during the course of the day. We’d jointly decided – after some heavy persuasion on my part – that the first room we would tackle would be the bathroom. We weren’t going to be replacing the fixtures and fittings instantly or knocking through a new doorway into the upstairs hallway straightaway, but we could at least make the place clean and functional so it was a bit more civilised using the facilities. But what Charlie had in enthusiasm, he was sadly lacking in good sense, darting between one area of the room and another as he tried to simultaneously tackle multiple tasks, continuously adding stuff to his workload as he spotted it, yet never quite finishing off anything. I preferred a more logical approach, dealing with one thing at a time, working away at scrubbing the bath until it was pristine, and then focusing on the shower. Each of us thought our own method was the best, and after several hours of back-aching work with very little to show for it in results, our tempers were beginning to fray as our contrasting approaches wound each other up.

‘Charlie, for the thousandth time, will you move the pile of debris away from the middle of the floor? Every time you decide to dash between the toilet and the sink, you kick it out of place and then I have to sweep it up again.’

‘Where do you suggest I put it then?’ said Charlie. ‘Because when it was by the door into your room, you said it was stopping you leaving, and when I put it by the door to my room, you said it was in the way there too.’

‘How about you don’t put it in the middle of everything? Why do I have to be the sensible one making all the decisions? I have enough of telling people what to do at work. I don’t want to have to do it in my free time too.’ I knew I sounded petulant but I was tired, overwhelmed and experiencing some serious regrets. Why had I deluded myself into thinking that this house transformation was possible? And why was I allowing myself to feel this way on our first day of working at it?

‘Forgive me, I thought you were enjoying bossing me around,’ retorted Charlie, sounding as exasperated as I felt. ‘You’re certainly treating me like one of your naughty schoolboys.’

‘If you insist on acting like one of them, then that’s what you should expect.’

We stared at each other, furious and frustrated, neither of us wanting to be the one to back down first.

A sudden clattering noise from downstairs broke the impasse.

‘Tell me that’s not another window falling out,’ I said.

‘The one in your bedroom did have some help from me,’ said Charlie sheepishly. ‘I don’t think things are quite at the stage that the rest are going to spontaneously take the plunge.’

There was another rattling sound followed by a bang.

‘Well, whatever it is, it’s not good. Something is breaking or we have an intruder,’ I said.

‘There’s not much worth stealing,’ said Charlie, although I noticed he’d lowered his voice and was now holding his broom in front of him as if it was a weapon.

‘Only our worldly possessions, which are still handily all in boxes downstairs and in your car. All the easier for Burglar Bill to march straight out with.’

‘I guess we’d better take a look,’ said Charlie.

I nodded, not quite trusting myself to speak. I was having serious flashbacks to the night when Steve broke into my bedroom. I knew this scenario was completely different – it wasn’t night, I wasn’t alone – but that didn’t stop my heart thudding with anxiety.

We went downstairs, taking an age on each step as we tried to be so quiet that the intruder wouldn’t know we were coming. I wanted nothing more than to hide and hope the problem went away, but I didn’t want to let fear get the better of me so I walked by Charlie’s side, determined to demonstrate that we were equals in everything house-related, even in tackling burglars.

‘Do you think we should ring the police?’ Charlie whispered, his breath warm against my ear as he stood close so his voice didn’t travel further than it needed to.

Before I could answer, there was a scrabbling of paws, and a furry whirlwind scurried to the bottom of the stairs, spun round three times, and then disappeared back out of sight. I experienced an overwhelming sense of relief.

I let go of Charlie’s arm. ‘I think we’ll be okay,’ I said. I fairly skipped down the last couple of steps, and beckoned to Charlie to follow me.

‘Hello, Granddad,’ I said as we emerged into the kitchen. ‘Be careful where you’re stepping, the floor is rather uneven.’

Ted zipped into view once again, this time carrying something in his mouth.

‘Oh heck, please don’t let that be a dead rat,’ I said, as Charlie hurried to intercept him. Ted let him get within grabbing distance, then put on a burst of speed, his back legs lowering closer to the floor as he whizzed out of reach. If he was human, he would definitely be laughing.

‘Drop it, Teddy boy,’ said Granddad in a tone which was completely lacking in authority. He tried to grab Ted as he sped past, but wobbled. For a horrifying moment I thought he was going to fall forward onto his face. I ran towards him and took his arm.

---