…’ My words are swallowed as another roar goes up from the pool table, but instead of victorious, this roar is of the mocking variety. The older builder is elbowed playfully in the ribs as his mate falls about laughing at his terrible shot.
‘Guys! Seriously, get over here.’ The head builder flashes me an apologetic smile. I open my mouth to try to explain who I am – or rather who I’m not – but he’s already turned back to the lads. ‘Come and meet Vanessa Whitely.’ I see his eyes bulge as he attempts to convey the importance of his words. It works like magic. The lads stop mucking about, their faces turning to stone as they stand upright and rush towards the bar, each thrusting their hand at me to shake in turn.
‘Hi Vanessa. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you. I’m Harvey.’ The older of the two pool-playing builders is acting as spokesman as he points out his workmate. ‘And this is Todd.’
‘And I’m Vincent Mancini, obviously.’ The boss shakes my hand again and I see his forehead is starting to shine with sweat. ‘I should have said that earlier. Sorry. You can call me Vince. If you want to, that is.’ He chuckles, though the sound is strained rather than joyful. ‘I’ll answer to anything, really.’
I’m astonished by the reaction my mere presence has caused. Or rather, the reaction Vanessa’s presence has caused. I should clarify who I am, but I’m rather enjoying the power Vanessa clearly holds, so I keep it zipped. I’ll tell them later, obviously, but not until I’ve chivvied them along and got them back to work.
‘Shall we get going then?’ I tap my watch in a way I’ve witnessed Vanessa do many times. ‘We’ve lost half the day already.’
‘But my pint …’ Todd, the youngest builder, looks longingly at the bar. I could relent, let them finish their drinks, but I feel a surge of authority shoot through me, straightening my spine and raising my chin.
‘You can have a pint on your own time, not mine.’
I have no idea where those words came from, but I quite like the firm, assertive tone they’re accompanied by, and I get a real kick when the builders march out of the pub instead of snubbing my request. Being Vanessa is strangely satisfying.
‘I’m afraid I don’t have any of Nicole’s paperwork yet and she’s too poorly for a catch up, so if you could give me a brief rundown of where we’re up to with the project?’
We’re trooping through the village, Vincent and I walking side-by-side while Harvey and Todd are just ahead, having some sort of friendly disagreement that involves a lot of nudging and an attempted wedgie. I’ve explained about Nicole’s condition as best as I can, but now we must get down to business. My career depends on keeping this project on track.
‘Once the plastering’s finished, we’re going to crack on with the fixed flooring. There’s only the hallway, kitchen and the family bathroom on the first floor to do, and we would have made a start already, but like I said, with no access …’ Vincent scratches the back of his neck as we reach the footbridge across the canal.
‘Don’t worry about it.’ Having worked with Vanessa for three years, I know she wouldn’t have appreciated the lack of work, no matter the circumstances, but I really don’t see what he could have done, other than break into the property. ‘We’ve still got a few hours left of the day, so I’m sure you and the lads will do your best to catch up.’
‘Oh, yes. Absolutely.’ Vincent bobs his head up and down rigorously and I realise my words came out with a vaguely threatening tone rather than the placatory one I’d been aiming for. Perhaps being Vanessa has gone to my head a bit. ‘And we’ll put in a few more hours to make up for it.’
‘There’s really no need for that,’ I say, but my words are swallowed by the griping up ahead as both Todd and Harvey put their cases across as to why that won’t be possible. Harvey, it seems, has football training (he plays five-a-side at the park at weekends if I fancy being his cheerleader – short skirt and pom-poms most definitely required) while Todd needs to take his gran to bingo.
Harvey snorts. ‘It’s the other way around, more like.’ He hooks an arm around Todd’s neck and pulls him close before running his knuckles over his scalp. ‘Didn’t your mum get you a personalised bingo dabber for your birthday?’
‘Gerroff.’ Todd wrestles himself free and tries to smooth down his ruffed-up hair. ‘And no, she didn’t. It was from my gran. She’s got one herself.’
Shaking his head, Harvey gives Todd a gentle shove. ‘You’re such a loser.’
I think it’s quite sweet, but I don’t voice my opinion as matching bingo dabbers definitely isn’t something Vanessa would appreciate.
‘You can both stay behind.’ With his shoulders thrown back, Vincent starts to stride ahead across the bridge. ‘Oliver too.’
‘Who’s Oliver?’ I quicken my step, scuttling after Vincent over the wooden boards as he overtakes Harvey and Todd. Vanessa would never scuttle after anybody but I don’t want to lag behind.
‘He’s the other builder.’ Todd waves a hand in the general direction of the house. ‘But he’s fixing his sister’s fence. Ow!’ He rubs his arm, where Harvey has just thumped him.
Vincent holds up a hand, silencing his teammates as they start to squabble. ‘He hasn’t got time to be messing around with Stacey’s fence. We need to get on with the plastering.’ He sneaks a glance at me and lifts his chin. ‘Get on the phone to him and tell him to get his butt back to the house, pronto.’
Todd is still rubbing his arm as Harvey makes the phone call, singing the nursey rhyme about a man with a dog named Bingo as he waits for the other builder to answer. They’re acting as I assume brothers would growing up. Not that I’d know. I only have one sibling, an older sister, and we were never close growing up. Kate and I barely speak even now we’re adults, and we meet up even less. Being a doctor, she has a busy life that I just can’t seem to fit into. Besides, we have nothing in common other than shared parentage.
‘Did you have a look at the house earlier?’ Vincent asks as we make our way along Arthur’s Pass. ‘I know it probably doesn’t look like much has happened since you were last here, but we’ve had to gut the place and start again.’ He’s scratching his neck again and I want to pull at his arm to stop him.
‘It looks great, honestly, and I’m sure it’ll start to look more homely soon.’
‘Absolutely.’ Vincent bobs his head up and down. ‘Once the flooring’s laid, we can start to put the house back together again. Make it look like a home rather than a shell.’
We reach the clearing and I find myself sucking in my breath at the sight of the house again. It really is magnificent.
‘I’m going to be staying on-site for the duration of the project, rather than commuting to and from Manchester every day. Less hassle.’ I study the outbuildings, trying to work out which one is the guesthouse. Hopefully it isn’t the ramshackle shed at the back. I peeped in earlier and it was less than ideal for human habitation.
‘So no more late starts and early lunches then.’ He winks at me to show he’s kidding, but he’s scratching at the back of his neck again. ‘I take it you’ll
