Chapter Fifteen
I’d weaselled my way onto Liam’s little team by the end of the first week. The dream team consisted of me, Liam, Jack, and Freddie, their eighteen-year-old apprentice, who looked at Liam like he hung the moon.
On Monday, I took my little pictures and videos. I cleared the garden of ceramic gnomes. I made five million cups of tea. Meanwhile, the guys took hammers to the walls and had all the fun.
By Tuesday, I was sick of my role as a chief tea maker.
My legs shook, my hands roamed. I itched to do something. So I snuck upstairs and took down the plaster on one of the walls in the bedroom. It was kind of addictive, hitting the plaster and watching it fall to the floor.
‘Kat!’ Liam’s voice called up the stairs. I winced. Heavy steel-toe work boots stomped up the stairs at surprising speed. Liam appeared at the doorway, looming.
‘You said you would stay out of the way.’
‘I’m a woman, so I should stick to gardening?’ I rolled my eyes. ‘So backwards, Liam.’
Liam’s eyes narrowed. ‘No, you don’t get to do that –’
‘Do what? I’m just saying –’
‘I’ve worked with plenty of tradeswomen. It’s not about you being a woman.’ He glanced at my canvas trainers and looked like he wanted to pass out. God, he was such a stickler for the rules. ‘Shoes,’ he barked, shaking his head. ‘You’re not doing any work until you have some proper bloody boots.’
Ah ha! I felt like saying. If I had the right shoes, he couldn’t complain.
On Wednesday morning, bright and early, I stood in Liam’s kitchen in a pink utility jumpsuit with matching steel-toe safety boots. I grinned as Liam took in my new garb.
Thank god for next-day delivery.
‘What are you wearing?’ he said once he picked his jaw up off the floor. His eyes travelled down to my shoes and back up.
‘You said I needed to be dressed properly.’ I shrugged. ‘Now I am.’
His lips were a thin line. ‘You said you’d stay out of the way.’
‘And you said I needed proper footwear.’ I patted his shoulder, feeling bold, even though the touch made my heart pound. ‘Compromise, my friend. Compromise.’
‘You agreed, Red.’
‘Please, Liam. I want to be useful.’ I made my eyes go a bit wider.
It was the expression I usually reserved for when I’d fucked up – a missed train or forgotten deadline.
Puppy-dog eyes were my go-to. ‘Besides, the more I help, the quicker it will get done, and you’ll be free of me.
It’s knocking plaster off walls, nothing technical. ’
‘Don’t give me that look.’
‘What look?’
He waved a hand at my expression. ‘The Disney princess look.’
‘I promise I’ll stay out of the way when it comes to the dangerous stuff.’
‘You better,’ he grumbled, and my lips twitched. It seemed Liam wasn’t completely immune to my attempt at charm.
As I climbed out of Liam’s van, Jack grinned at my outfit. Liam stormed past him into the house, leaving us on my front porch.
‘A dog with a bone, you are.’ Jack shook his head, smiling. ‘How pissed off was he when he saw you dressed like that this morning? No, go slowly. Describe it in detail, please.’
I grinned back, feeling like I’d made a new partner in crime – and the crime was pissing Liam off.
‘He wasn’t pleased.’
Jack laughed. ‘Oh, I think he was something.’
Unsurprisingly, Liam spent the remainder of the week in a foul mood.
He seemed to take most of his grumpiness out on Jack.
Liam questioned if Jack had ordered the right skip.
He questioned him about tiling and barked orders about the skirting boards.
At some point, Liam seemed one step away from questioning if Jack was breathing the correct way.
It made me feel bad for Jack and a little resentful towards Liam.
Couldn’t he give the guy a break?
While Liam was harsh with Jack, he was kind towards Freddie, the very tall, skinny lad who shovelled rubble into the skip better than I could and went bright red when I asked if he’d like another cup of tea.
Liam’s voice was gentle but instructive when they huddled on the floorboards, chatting through some pipework under the house.
By the end of the week, I’d become accustomed to banging plaster off walls, and Liam hadn’t mentioned how therapeutic it was to wield a hammer.
It was probably because me, plus a hammer, was his worst nightmare.
Knocking off all the plaster from the walls was fun and cathartic.
Sometimes, if I got a good section, the entire wall would fall off in one go, and I wanted to squeal.
It was even more satisfying than peeling back wallpaper.
Or those pimple-popping videos I watched in secret.
However, shuffling heavy plaster in plastic buckets down the stairs was much more challenging. At some point, Liam helped with the heavier buckets. I watched his muscles flex as he grabbed the bucket with only a little strain.
I’d never been the type to go for muscular men.
I usually went for the granola hipster type.
They usually were decked out in Carhartt, one of those tiny beanies and a signet ring on their pinkie.
They would mansplain The Godfather trilogy.
They would announce that they’d watched the latest Greta Gerwig film as if they had completed feminism.
And they were always disappointing in bed.
But I wasn’t ever interested in a relationship.
I blamed it on my ADHD. I get bored of them, I explained if anyone asked why I’d never had a relationship longer than three months, usually either Willa or my mother.
I’d never bothered with therapy because it didn’t take an expensive appointment to pinpoint my commitment phobia.
I was worried about getting hurt. My mum divorced my dad, and he disappeared.
Even Willa, one of the strongest women I knew, was messed around by fuck-face John.
Honestly, it seemed more hassle than fun.
But that didn’t mean I couldn’t appreciate the male form of Liam Hunter.
Objectively, of course.
I cleared the plaster in all three bedrooms on my own.
It felt like months of grief and stress had been pounded on the walls, and I felt lighter.
Lifting the weight of the hammer had relieved the weight on my chest. Jack was impressed.
Liam nodded, and I gave him a smug grin, and he retorted with a roll of his eyes.
I had exactly what I’d wanted – a new purpose.
On Friday, I was finishing hauling the last few bits of plaster when I paused on the stairs. Jack and Liam speaking in hushed tones in the hallway.
‘She’s living with you? What about Abigail?’ Jack asked. His tone was light but loaded with some hidden meaning. Who was Abigail? Was this a girlfriend of Liam’s? He’d never mentioned a partner, so I’d assumed he was single.
‘Abi is away at the moment. It won’t be a problem,’ was Liam’s terse reply.
Oh my god. Did Liam have a partner? Surely not.
I’d lived with Liam for a week, sharing trips back to the house.
I would have noticed, even from the annexe, right?
Sometimes, I’d sneak a look while Liam cooked, ducking down if he glanced out at the garden.
And then I scrambled back to my armchair to play casual when I saw him walk into the garden with a plate covered with tin foil.
Liam brought me food every night. Macaroni cheese with a herby crust. Pan-fried salmon with a bulgar wheat salad.
Roasted chicken with greens and sweet potato.
I’d never eaten so well. Mum and Graham liked their food bland, saltless and on the table at six thirty on the dot.
When I moved out, I ate whatever was in the fridge or stuck to Pot Noodles.
And I didn’t think he ever cooked extra for anyone else.
‘You know I don’t want to overstep.’
‘Then don’t.’
‘I just remember how it was last time you got involved –’
‘Jack. I’ve got it under control.’
The men dispersed, ending the conversation, but it was humming in my mind, a puzzle unsolved. I filed the interaction in my head for now and went to hunt for my phone.
By the end of the day, I was sweaty and bone-tired but happy. I collapsed in a starfish position in the middle of the bedroom. My hair was caked in dust. I could barely see anything through the goggles Liam had insisted I wear. It was even coming from my eyes and nose.
It was horrific, and I loved it.
As I headed downstairs, the house was a skeleton – all wooden floorboards and red-brick walls. Liam was standing in the middle of the back living room, where I wanted the kitchen-diner, with an older man with cropped grey hair.
‘Who’s that?’ I asked Jack, who was standing near me with his arms crossed. Freddie mimicked the stance next to him, making my lips turn up.
‘Structural engineer,’ Jack said. ‘He’s overseeing the RSJ.’
‘RSJ?’
‘Rolled steel joist,’ Freddie explained proudly.
‘That wall you wanted to remove was load bearing. So, we need to put a steel in to support your house, or it could collapse.’
‘I couldn’t have done that myself,’ I said, less of a question, more of a statement.
‘No.’ Jack grinned. ‘Unless you wanted a big mess on your hands. Liam has done this a million times, though. He knows what he’s doing.’
Liam and the engineer were looking over some plans and talking. Eventually, the engineer nodded and left the house.
‘Right,’ Liam said, ‘let’s get the props in, and then we can start knocking down the wall.’ I brightened at his words. I could help. Liam’s eyes met mine and narrowed. ‘Kat…’ he warned.
‘Oh, come on. Look at me.’ I gestured to myself. ‘I’ve done a whole upstairs on my own while you slackers were down here. What’s the difference with this wall?’
‘I think she’s earned it, boss.’ Jack grinned, and Liam narrowed his eyes.
Liam huffed. ‘Fine.’
Once the props were in to hold up the house, I grinned as Jack passed me a hammer.
As I hit the wall again and again, earning a ‘Jesus, who hurt you?’ comment from Jack, I imagined the perfect shaker-style kitchen with a big island.
Pristine granite worktops. An Italian coffee machine.
I imagined making coffee with that machine, the morning sun streaming through the window.
A faceless man coming up behind me and planting a kiss on my shoulder.
Once the wall was demolished, mainly by me, because the guys didn’t want to get near me and a swinging hammer, I stepped back.
‘Looks good,’ Jack said, and Liam grunted in agreement. The space was huge now, maximising the room’s light, even through the old milky windowpanes.
Once we were tidied up, Liam turned to me. ‘Right – we’re done for the day. Do you want to hang around here or come home with me?’
I went a bit pink at his words as Jack and Freddie exchanged a look behind Liam’s back.
‘Oh,’ I started. ‘I was going to ask if I could buy you all a drink. To say thank you for starting this so quickly. And for all your hard work this week.’
Liam opened his mouth to reply, but nothing came out.
Jack gave Liam a nudge on the shoulder. Usually, I wouldn’t dream of looking this messy, but the social club seemed pretty relaxed.
I could probably brush out most of the dust and I was too tired to change.
I could barely lift my arms; they hurt so much.
‘Ah – I can’t. But you guys go,’ Liam replied.
My face crumpled. ‘Come on, Liam. It’s Friday. And just one drink. Not alcoholic, obviously.’
Liam stared at me for several moments, pushing his hair out of his face as I did my best to give him that ‘Disney princess’ look he’d mentioned earlier.
When he glanced away, I knew I’d won. I couldn’t hold back the wide grin that took over my face.
‘One drink.’
‘Perfect.’