Two
‘Alec Richman Heating and Plumbing. How may I help you?’ The voice took me by surprise, partly because a human being, not a machine, had answered, and partly because the man was so polite and friendly, but mainly because I hadn’t expected the voice to sound quite as deep and gravelly. Or as … sexy.
‘Oh. Erm. I need someone to come and fix my heating. And my kitchen tap. Would you be able to do that, please?’
‘I wouldn’t be a particularly good heating engineer and plumber if I couldn’t. Where do you live?’
‘Middle Cottage. On Midwinter Lane. It’s on Midwinter Ridge in the tiny hamlet of Midwinter. Near Fairlight Bay.’
‘I know Midwinter Lane.’ He sounded amused by my directions, which I’d given because his website stated, “we cover East Sussex”, and as that was a rather large area, I had no idea if he would’ve heard of such a tiny place as Midwinter. Apparently, he had. ‘Is it an emergency?’
‘Erm. It’s December and it’s freezing today. So yes, I would say so.’
‘Do you have kids?’
‘Sorry?’
‘Do you have kids?’ he repeated.
‘N-o.’ That was a weird thing to ask.
‘Do you live with elderly relatives?’
‘No. And before you ask, I don’t have a dog, a cat, or a hamster. I live alone. Erm. I need a heating engineer and a plumber, not a date. What has any of that got to do with this?’ I kept my voice light and friendly but it crossed my mind that I might’ve called a weirdo.
His laugh, however, was pleasant. Very pleasant. Almost melodic.
An image of the man developed in my mind’s eye. Tall, broad shouldered, athletic build, long legs, a cheerful and sexy smile, dark hair and dark, straight eyebrows framing equally dark eyes, above a full mouth and a firm jaw.
A shiver ran through me, and it wasn’t because I was cold. The heating had been on for some time now and the cottage was as toasty as could be. Of course, the man would probably be the complete opposite of what I had imagined. Which was just as well. Because the image I had conjured up was that of Berry’s brother, Paul. And I shouldn’t be thinking about Paul in any way, shape, or form. The man had a girlfriend.
Perhaps this Alec Richman would be short, fat and hairy. In fact, I rather hoped he would be, because the last thing I needed in my life was to have a crush on both Berry’s brother, and a plumber. Or on anyone for that matter. I had a business to run and Christmas to prepare for, and, unlike Madi’s, my love life had always been a bit of a disaster.
Although … it had been a long time since I had had a crush on anyone, prior to meeting Paul. The last date I had been on was before I had moved to Middle Cottage so that was well over a year ago now. Perhaps meeting someone wouldn’t be so bad after all. And with Christmas coming, it would be lovely to have someone to snuggle up with in front of a roaring, log fire on the cold, winter nights. Not that I had a roaring log fire to snuggle in front of. Or any fire for that matter.
Alec interrupted my thoughts with a small cough. ‘As you said, it’s December and it’s freezing. I’m trying to establish how much of an emergency it is. My list is longer than Santa’s right now, so if you don’t have kids or elderly people living in your home, you won’t be at the top of my list. Sorry. What’s the problem with the heating?’
‘If I knew that, I wouldn’t be calling you.’ I laughed even though it wasn’t funny.
‘Fair point. What I meant was, is it the boiler? Or is it a problem with the programmer? Is the pilot light on?’
‘Yes. And I managed to turn the heating on manually.’
‘So you’ve got heating then?’
‘Yes. But it didn’t come on this morning, so it might not come on tomorrow either.’
‘But it’s working okay other than that?’
‘Yes. It seems to be.’
‘And you’ve got hot water?’
‘I have now, but it was tepid when I had my shower.’
‘Then it’s not really an emergency, is it? I’m rushed off my feet as it is. I might be able to squeeze you in on Tuesday morning. Early. If it’s not a big job.’
‘Tuesday? But … it’s Sunday today.’
‘Tell me about it. Sorry. Tuesday’s the earliest I can do. You could try someone else.’
I had already called five others. just laughed. One simply hung up. The others didn’t even answer their phones. But then again, as I had said, it was Sunday today.
‘But … it is an emergency. Maybe not to you. And perhaps not as much as some others, but it’s an emergency as far as I’m concerned. Your website states that you provide same day emergency call-outs, so why can’t you come today? Are you really that busy?’
‘As we both agree, it’s December and it’s freezing,’ he repeated. ‘This month and next are my busiest times. Tuesday is the earliest I can do.’
‘What am I supposed to do until then?’
‘You could stay somewhere else. It’s only a couple of days. Surely you can manage until then?’
‘That’s easy for you to say. Your heating is working perfectly, I don’t doubt.’
‘It is, thanks. Shall I book you in for Tuesday?’
‘Do I have a choice?’
‘Not if you want me to come and look at it, no.’
I slumped onto the sofa and glanced out of the sitting room window. There was still no sign of the sun even though it had supposedly risen over an hour ago. The sky was as leaden as my current mood and the sight of my neighbour, Marcus, hurrying down his garden path in his thick padded jacket, jeans and boots, his scarf flapping in the wind, and his woollen hat pulled down low over his ears, made me shiver, despite the cottage having finally warmed up. In fact, I was now feeling a little too warm, having dressed in a pair of black twill trousers, a white cotton blouse, and a Christmas-themed red and green jumper.
Marcus was heading towards the wooden footbridge a few metres from our front gates. It was our only means of crossing Midwinter Brook, other than wading through the water. There was an area on the other side of the brook that had reserved parking spaces for our three cottages, the lane itself being far too narrow to allow a vehicle to pass. It was built in the days of horse and carts, and I use the word ‘built’ somewhat loosely, because even now Midwinter Lane was unadopted and made up of sandstone, rocks, and rubble with the odd smattering of tarmac dotted here and there. The car parking area was a much more recent addition, and thankfully, that had been tarmacked.
I let out a sigh of resignation. ‘Then I suppose it’ll have to be Tuesday. If that’s really the earliest you can do.’
‘It is. What’s your name?’
‘My name’s Noelle.’
‘Noelle? Well, that’s a first. The first Noelle.’ He virtually sang the words.
I rolled my eyes. If I had a pound for every time I’d heard that comment over the years, I’d be rich.
‘Yes. That’s smart, Alec,’ I quipped, and then realised it might not be wise to be sarcastic. ‘Look. You will turn up, won’t you? I’d booked a plumber to fix the tap last week and he never showed. I don’t want to wait until Tuesday and then find I need to get someone else.’
‘Oh yes. I’d forgotten you mentioned a tap. What’s wrong with the tap? Wait. If you knew that you wouldn’t need me. Right?’ He chuckled. ‘What I meant was, is it dripping? Or something else?’
‘It thinks it’s a shower. But it only does it sometimes. It was fine when I filled the kettle but when I rinsed my mug, I got drenched.’
‘Hmm. Sounds like a water pressure problem. I’ll sort it out on Tuesday. And I’ll be there, Noelle. I promise. If I get a cancellation, or I can make it sooner, I’ll let you know.’
‘Thanks,’ I said. ‘I’ll see you soon then, I hope.’
I rang off, reluctantly got up from my comfy, navy velvet sofa, and walked to the kitchen, eyeing the tap warily.
Could I refill the kettle without getting drenched? I was yearning for another mug of coffee. I could put on my raincoat, perhaps. At least then if the tap spurted water all over me, I would still be dry.
Or I could go and see my parents earlier than I had planned. Their tap was working perfectly, as far as I knew. I was going there for Sunday lunch in any event. I might as well go early and get a cup of coffee thrown in. If my heating was still playing up later, I would need to ask if I could stay with them until Tuesday, so if I went early, I could build up to asking that. The heating had come on today, but it might not do so later. Or tomorrow. I loved cold weather, frost, ice, and snow, but only when I was dressed for it and was outdoors. Indoors, I expected to be warm and cosy without wearing several layers of jumpers, coats and scarves.
Now I was beginning to wish I had gone for a wood burning stove in my sitting room, or at least kept the old gas fire that was already there. At least then, if my heating gave up, I would still be able to warm at least one room of my cottage. But the thing had looked like a bit of a death trap, so I’d had it taken out. I had meant to get one of those gorgeous, real flame effect electric fires to replace it but for some reason, I still hadn’t got around to finding one I liked.
I should’ve been working instead of considering going to my parents’ house early. I needed to make more Christmas decorations; some to fulfil specific online orders, and some to sell at the market in town on Thursday. I had a stall there every Thursday on Market Day, and last week, I sold out. Not one single decoration was left by the time I packed up at five.
Luckily, I had more stock at home, because the Fairlight Bay Christmas Market officially opened on Saturday, and during the festive season, which began in late November in Fairlight Bay, I also had a stall on Saturdays. I’d taken extra stock, just in case, and it was a good thing I had, because yet again, I sold every item.
The market was exceptionally busy on Saturday and all the other stallholders sold out too, meaning everyone was exceedingly happy.
That was why Berry had suggested we should go for that quick drink in The Dog and Duck. The quick drink that had turned into a long and drunken night, and left me with a bit of a hangover this morning.
I had met Berry and her brother, Paul, back in April when, in addition to selling my decorations online, I had also rented a stall at the Fairlight Bay Market.
I had never done anything like that before, having spent most of my working life in an office and then later, having run my fledgeling business of Midwinter Cottage Decorations, from my kitchen table, via my laptop.
So manning a stall in a public market was a somewhat daunting experience, and to help ease me in to being a market stall trader, Madi had come and spent a few days with me, leaving Tristan at home in Somerset to continue running their own business.
To repay that favour, I had gone to Somerset to stay at Apple Orchard Farm for two weeks in September to help with the apple harvest. I don’t recall too much about those two weeks, to be honest, apart from the fact that it was wonderful to spend so much time with Madi again, but I do remember that the cider we drank was delicious. My drink of choice is wine, but I must confess that I drank rather a lot of cider during those two weeks.
Well, someone had to sample the goods, didn’t they?
Actually, I didn’t, because the cider we drank then was cider that had been pressed by the former owner and sold with the property.
I wouldn’t be able to sample Tristan and Madi’s Apple Orchard Farm Cider until this New Year when the cider made from the apples I helped pick in September would just about be ready to drink.
Tristan assured me that their Apple Orchard Farm Cider would be even better as he had been working on recipes and had tweaked it from the original one. I would get to taste some when I went to stay with them at New Year, and I was already looking forward to it.
Madi, of course, had also never worked on a market stall, so on that first Thursday in April, we were both completely out of our depths. Berry had the stall next to mine and was selling handmade soaps, bath products, and lotions made from all natural ingredients. Some of her soaps were shaped like fruits such as strawberries, apples, and pears, and they all looked good enough to eat. Although I didn’t try to. However natural and mainly organic they might have been, soap was still soap as far as I was concerned.
But luckily for me, and for Madi on that first day, Berry took pity on us and showed us the ropes. She taught me how to encourage shoppers to stop at my stall. What to say to them if they were dithering about a purchase. How to seal the deal, and how to ensure I obtained either an email address or a contact number, so that I could send them offers and news of new products.
When her brother Paul arrived to help her pack up, and to give her a lift home because her own car had broken down, they also showed us The Dog and Duck pub which I had never been to before. It was hidden behind Market Square and approached via a twitten, or a cat creep as they are also called in Fairlight Bay. Basically that’s a narrow passageway between two buildings, often, but not always, with steps. The twitten leading from Market Square to The Dog and Duck pub was narrow and dark because the upper storeys of the old buildings overhung the passageway. The ground floors housed an art and craft shop on one side, and an antiques store on the other. The twitten led out into another, smaller square with the pub, a former stable, and more antique shops fronting the square. I thought I knew all the hidden gems in town, but I must’ve missed this one.
That was the first drunken night of many. Berry certainly liked a drink. Paul hardly drank at all and was, and has been ever since, the designated driver. Which was why I had assumed that it was he who brought me home last night.
Having now decided an earlier visit to my parents was the best option today, I would need to rethink the rest of my day.
I always had my decorations up, on or around the first of December. Even when I moved last year, they were up, inside and out by the second. Although I did have help from the removal team last year. But this year, I had been so busy running my business that I hadn’t even thought about my own decorations until Friday, when I got them down from the loft.
I started with the outdoor decorations, placing my Christmas silhouettes of a snowman, a deer, and a singing penguin, on the front lawn. I positioned my candy cane path lights either side of my path, hung my handmade wreath on the front door, and fixed my boughs of holly and pine, entwined with Christmas lights, around the door frame and along the downstairs window sills. I also managed to trim the upstairs window sills to match those downstairs, but to hang the rest of the lights, I needed a ladder. I had one in the garden shed but by the time I’d done everything else it was getting dark and I wasn’t climbing a ladder on my own in the dark, in case I fell off.
There wasn’t that much left to do as far as the outdoor decorations were concerned, but as I was at the Christmas Market all day yesterday, I had planned to finish the outside lights today. The problem with the heating had thrown my schedule off balance though.
My original plan had been to get up early, make the Christmas decorations I needed for my business, and then get the ladder from the shed and finish hanging the lights on the cottage, and decorating the evergreen conifer tree that was growing in the centre of one side of my front lawn, with lights and outdoor baubles. That would have to wait until the afternoon, when I got back from my parents’ house.
There was a lot to do inside, so my decorations would be late this year. Especially as I also needed to get some Christmas decorations made for my business. If I started those now, I wouldn’t want to stop, and I couldn’t be late for Sunday lunch. Mum would never forgive me. No. Going to their house early, having my longed for second mug of coffee, and asking if I could stay if needed, was my best option now.
I turned off the heating, hoping it would come back on when I returned, threw on my coat, hat, scarf, gloves, and boots, and opened the front door.
A blast of arctic air hit me full in the face and took my breath away for a moment. It was colder than I had thought and the wind was bitter this morning. There was no way I was putting outdoor decorations up in this, unless the weather changed this afternoon.
Perhaps I should’ve left the heating on. Knowing my luck, the pipes would freeze up, burst, and flood the cottage.
‘What is wrong with you, Noelle?’ I chastised myself. I was usually an optimist and looked on the bright side no matter what, not a pessimist who decided that everything would be a disaster even when it wasn’t.
Perhaps it was my hangover.
And on that subject, I reminded myself to phone Berry and ask who had brought me home last night. But more importantly, whether I was still fully clothed when whomever it was, had left.