Chapter 11
Although Molly’s week off had been extremely hard work and she was so exhausted she could do with another – this time lying on a beach and being served cocktails by a hunky waiter – it had been incredibly fruitful.
She could hardly believe the difference between last Monday and this. This time last week, she had been looking forward to collecting the keys to her brand new home. And now, within the space of seven days, she had moved in, the cottage had been rewired, she’d sanded the floorboards upstairs, had removed the grotty lino from downstairs to reveal the most gorgeous tiled floor (it had been criminal to cover it up), and yesterday her dad had helped her take the boards off the upstairs windows.
Her mum had come with him and she had been absolutely shocked and horrified at the conditions under which her only daughter was living, and had tried her utmost to persuade Molly to come home to live until the plastering was done, at the very least.
Her dad hadn’t been quite so concerned: he had been more interested in poking a screwdriver into the wooden window frames to check whether they were rotten. Thankfully they weren’t. They’d probably do her another couple of years, but for that to happen she needed to sand them down, taking them back to the bare wood and revarnishing them; yet another job to add to her ever-growing list. Plus, one of the upstairs panes was cracked, so she would need to get it replaced.
Her mother’s face when she had seen the interestingly coloured bathroom suite had made Molly giggle, though. She had insisted on donning a pair of rubber gloves and liberally splashing bleach everywhere, as though she could remove the colour.
‘It’s not too bad,’ Molly had said. ‘Actually, it’s growing on me. It’s quite retro.’
‘Retro isn’t a word I would have used,’ her mother had said. ‘Try old-fashioned. Past it. Horrid.’
However, her parents had managed to persuade her to come to their house for Sunday lunch: Molly certainly wasn’t going to turn that down. And neither was Jet. To Molly’s surprise, her parents had accepted the dog without question, probably too shocked about everything else for the animal’s presence to register. Molly had driven over with Jet strapped into the passenger seat. He had sat there, trying to stick his nose out of the window, his ears flapping in the breeze, and when she got to her mum’s he’d behaved impeccably. In fact, he’d positioned himself in the kitchen and had spent most of the time staring longingly at the oven door with the delicious smells emanating from it.
‘I’m still not sure about you living in the middle of the park,’ Teresa had said. ‘Even with your new guardian.’
‘He’s a softy,’ Molly said, playing with Jet’s silky ears.
‘That’s what I’m worried about,’ her mother retorted. ‘He’s not exactly a guard dog, is he?’
‘Oh, I don’t know,’ Molly had replied. ‘He certainly tells me if there’s anyone around. Thankfully he doesn’t bother if they’re walking along the path, but as soon as somebody steps onto my property, he has a good shout about it.’
Her dad had questioned her about the neatly stacked fencing and wooden posts down the side of the house, and when she’d told him she intended to fence in her land, he’d nodded his head in agreement. ‘I think that’s an excellent idea,’ he had said. ‘You don’t want the general public wandering into your garden.’
After work this evening, Molly fully intended to make a start on putting up the posts. She had watched numerous YouTube videos on how to erect a fence, and she was fairly confident she should be able to do it. The hardest part would be digging the hole, but she had a nice sharp shovel with a pointed end, and lots of determination and enthusiasm. She had also bought a spirit level and some cheap plastic buckets, and she intended to use one of the boards taken off the windows to mix the cement on. She had it all worked out, and she was feeling very pleased with herself. The only fly in the ointment, was her having to go to work today, because she would love nothing better than to crack on with the fence building.
The other reason Molly was reluctant to go to work was because she didn’t want to leave Jet. She had left him on his own a couple of times over the course of last week because she’d had no choice – she hadn’t been able to take him to the shops, or to her appointment at the council offices – and neither did she have any choice today. She had to go to work.
After making sure Jet’s water bowl was full and he had been out for a wee, she gave him a chew to gnaw on to keep him occupied while she was gone.
‘I won’t be long,’ she told him. ‘Be good and I’ll be back in a couple of hours.’
She had no real idea when she would be able to take her lunch break, because it would depend on whether she had any viewings, but she was certain she could pop back at least once, if not twice, throughout the course of the day to check on him.
‘How was your week off?’ Astrid asked, after they’d made a cup of tea.
Molly had missed chatting to her friend and colleague, even though she hadn’t missed being at work. Astrid was a few years older than her and was divorced, with two young sons, but despite their personal lives being so different, she and Molly got on like a house on fire.
‘Really good thanks.’ And she preceded to fill Astrid in on what she’d been getting up to, ending with, ‘I’ve even managed to get myself a dog.’
Astrid raised perfectly arched eyebrows. ‘A puppy?’
‘No, he’s an adult dog. I’m not quite sure how old he is – maybe three or four? It’s a guess really, because he’s a stray. He was living wild in the park, and for some reason he decided he liked me and followed me into the house. I didn’t have the heart to shoo him back out again.’
Astrid said, ‘I had a boyfriend like that once. He used to follow me everywhere. I couldn’t get rid of him. If truth be told, I think I would have preferred a dog.’
‘I certainly do!’ Molly cried.
She’d not had a boyfriend for at least eighteen months, not a proper one. She had been on several dates during that time, but none of them had led to anything. There was only one man she would have liked to have seen again, but he hadn’t seemed too interested in her, so she hadn’t pursued the matter. There were plenty more fish in the sea, and she was only twenty-nine, so had loads of time to find someone she wanted to settle down with. And that certainly wasn’t going to be anytime soon, because she didn’t have time to date right now, and probably wouldn’t for some months to come. Besides, there wasn’t anyone she wanted to date.
Unbidden, Jack’s face swam into her mind and she gave a huff of exasperation.
‘What’s wrong?’ Astrid asked.
‘It’s nothing. I was thinking about some guy at the council offices.’
‘What guy?’
‘I had a meeting with him to try to persuade him to do something about the park, but he was having none of it.’
Astrid was giving her a strange look. ‘You’re blushing.’
‘I am not. It’s warm in here.’
‘Not that warm,’ Astrid argued. ‘What’s he like, this guy?’
‘A jobsworth,’ Molly said, her tone implying that she didn’t want to talk about it anymore.
Astrid didn’t take the hint. ‘How old is he?’
Molly typed her password into the computer and stared pointedly at the screen, refusing to answer.
‘What does he look like?’ Astrid persisted. ‘You’re still blushing.’
‘I’m not blushing,’ Molly declared. ‘I’m annoyed with him, that’s all. What have I got on today?’ she asked, changing the subject.
Astrid pulled a face. ‘I’ll get it out of you eventually,’ she warned, before switching to work mode. ‘I thought I’d break you in gently this morning so you can get on with some paperwork, but this afternoon I’ve arranged some viewings. One of them is showing a couple around the house on Digby Avenue – the vendors have dropped the price, and it’s starting to get some interest – and the second is a new instruction. It’s not far from you, so I thought you could do that on your way home.’
Molly smiled at Astrid’s thoughtfulness. Although Molly might not have wanted to be here today, she did love her job, and she loved the people she worked with. There were four of them in the office: Astrid who made all the appointments, balanced the books, and dealt with the solicitors, Mike who owned the agency, and Ricky, who was Molly’s counterpart.
She was soon in the swing of it again, concentrating on her job and only thinking about her lovely cottage and her gorgeous dog now and again. But in amongst those thoughts, the Parks and Highways Officer’s handsome face persisted in putting in an appearance, much to her annoyance.
She blamed Astrid – it was her fault for teasing her about him.
***
Jack finished work as soon as he could, and hurried home. Although he had been up since the crack of dawn to make sure the house looked as perfect as possible, he was still paranoid about it being in a mess.
It had been one hell of a rush to complete all the decorating, and he’d only finished yesterday afternoon. After spending the rest of the evening cleaning (he had even taken everything out of the kitchen cupboards and wiped the shelves down in case any potential purchasers had a mind to look inside), he’d been exhausted. It didn’t help his frame of mind that he’d have to keep the house as pristine as it was now for several weeks, or even months, to come – depending on how long it took to sell. Jack didn’t regard himself as a particularly messy person and he cleaned the house on a regular basis, but he’d not had to face having strangers traipse through his home before, and the thought made him anxious.
By the time four o’clock arrived, Jack found himself pacing around the living room, into the kitchen and back again, and with each circuit he peered out the window to see if there was a strange car parked outside.
It was just his luck that he was on the furthest reach of his circuit (ie. in the kitchen) when the doorbell rang, making him jump.
Clearing his throat and plastering a smile on his face, he hurried to answer it. He was about to say, ‘Hello, thank you for coming,’ when he froze. Because the person standing in front of him was none other than Molly Brown.
Jack panicked, wondering how on earth she had got his address, concerned she was stalking him.
But to his surprise, she seemed equally as shocked.
For a moment the two of them stared at each other, then both began talking at once.
‘You go first,’ he said, hoping that the sooner she explained why she was here, the sooner he could get rid of her. He didn’t want the estate agent turning up when there was a mad woman on his doorstep.
‘I’m from Watkin and Wright, Estate Agents,’ she said, then stepped back to check the house number attached to the wall next to the front door. ‘This is number four, isn’t it?’
Jack nodded, his mouth dry.
‘And this is Oakland Road?’ she asked.
He nodded again.
‘And you do want to put the house on the market?’
Jack cleared his throat again. ‘Yes, I do. You had better come in.’
Molly gave him a professional smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes, and stepped into his hall. She had a briefcase with her and she was wearing a navy skirt suit, and looked incredibly smart. She was also as pretty as he remembered. More so, because she had a sexy secretary thing going on; but even as the thought crossed his mind, he felt disgusted with himself. He shouldn’t be thinking of her in that way. Not when he was about to do business with her.
‘Where do you want to start?’ he asked. ‘I’ve not done this kind of thing before.’
Her smile widened. ‘Don’t worry, I have,’ she said. ‘Quite a few times, actually. I’ll take some details, then you can show me around. After that, we’ll discuss what price to put it on the market for.’
‘OK.’ He led her into the living room and indicated for her to take a seat.
She sank gracefully into one of the armchairs, tucking her skirt around her knees and crossing her legs at the ankles, then she reached into her briefcase and pulled out a tablet.
‘Can I check that your name is Feathers? Jack Feathers?’ she asked.
‘That’s correct. I gave my name to the woman when I rang up to make the appointment.’
‘I’m sorry,’ Molly said. ‘I’ve got it down here as Betters. I’ll amend it now. Have you got an e-mail address?’
He gave her that, and she asked several more questions about the property itself, which he answered to the best of his ability.
‘I think that’s it for the time being,’ she said eventually. ‘Can I take a look around?’
‘Yes, of course. Would you like to begin with the kitchen?’
‘Why not.’
He showed her the way, then stood back as she got a little machine out of her bag and aimed it at the walls.
‘What’s that for?’ he asked.
‘It’s an electronic tape measure,’ she said, jotting down the room’s dimensions. ‘This is a nice size,’ she added, gazing around. ‘There’s space for a table, which is always a bonus for a family house. Although it could probably do with new units, but don’t worry, the asking price should reflect that.’
‘And what price should I ask?’
‘We’ll come to that later, shall we? I’d like to see the rest of the house first.’
Jack felt extremely odd taking her upstairs, and very self-conscious when she poked her head into the bathroom, and then into his bedroom. There was nothing personal on show, not even photographs, because he had read online it was best to declutter and depersonalise any property before it went on the market. But still he felt as though she was invading his inner sanctum and he was acutely aware this was his private space that few people got to see.
Still, he reasoned, it was probably much like visiting the doctor. He might be embarrassed at having a boil on his bottom (not that he’d ever had) but the doctor would have seen hundreds of bottoms and no end of boils, so it wasn’t something he should feel embarrassed about. The same applied to estate agents, he figured. Molly would have been inside hundreds of homes, so this was probably just another house to her, and he was just another vendor.
Yet he still couldn’t shake the feeling of being deeply uncomfortable.
He was about to close his bedroom door, when he had a sudden image of Molly’s head on his pillow, and he blinked rapidly to dispel it.
Good grief, what on earth was the matter with him?
Deciding the stress of the past week must be getting to him, he took a deep breath and followed her downstairs.
Seated once more in the living room, she got down to the brass tacks of talking about money, and his brain was soon buzzing with words like ‘asking price’ and ‘offer’, until he wasn’t sure whether he was coming or going.
‘Does that sound acceptable to you?’ Molly asked.
She had suggested a figure and although he wasn’t entirely happy with it, he knew he should bow to her expertise. She sold houses for a living, so she must know what she was talking about. Besides, it wasn’t particularly unreasonable when compared to other properties of similar size and condition in the local area, so he was fairly certain she wasn’t pitching it low just to get a quick sale. Ultimately though, it was his decision, and he decided to go with her estimate.
At least now he knew where he stood, assuming he achieved that figure. His financial situation wouldn’t be brilliant, so his best course of action would probably be to find the cheapest place he could to rent, and then live as frugally as a monk for the next few years until he’d saved up more money for a bigger deposit.
‘If you don’t mind me asking, what is your situation with regards an onward chain?’ Molly asked.
‘There isn’t one.’ He would just have to find somewhere a bit sharpish as soon as he and Della accepted an offer.
‘Good, that will help with its saleability. If you move out sooner rather than later, I’m even more confident of a swift sale.’
‘You are?’
She nodded. ‘This is a nice sized house in a good location, not too far from a good primary school and the station. It will be a nice starter or second home for a family. Three bed houses in the price range you’re thinking of putting yours on the market for usually do quite well.’
Jack was crestfallen. Even though he knew it was inevitable the house would be sold at some point, now that the reality of his situation was sitting there staring him in the face, he felt rather sad. This house was only supposed to have been a stopgap for him and his sister, and so it had proved for Della; but for him it had been home for the last nine years. It was going to be very strange moving out, and even stranger living somewhere else.
‘Is there a problem?’ Molly asked.
‘No, of course not,’ Jack said, but he knew he didn’t sound convincing.
‘Is there an issue you’re not telling me about? Problems with the neighbours? You do have to declare these things you know,’ she added sternly.
‘Nothing like that, believe me.’ She continued to look sceptical, so he explained, ‘It’s just I’ve no idea where I’ll be moving to.’
She appeared relieved. ‘Have you not seen anything you like?’
‘It’s complicated.’
‘I see,’ she said.
He seriously doubted she did. Then he realised she must think he was referring to a breakdown of a relationship or a marriage. Feeling the need to explain but not wanting to go into detail, he said, ‘I can’t afford this house on my own, so I’m being forced to sell, but the problem is, I can’t afford to buy anything else either, because I’ll only realise half the equity.’ Crumbs, he was beginning to sound like an estate agent now.
Molly continued to stare at him, but didn’t say anything, so he went on, ‘I don’t suppose you’ve got any cheap houses to rent on your books?’ It wouldn’t hurt to start looking now. If he timed it right, he might be able to move seamlessly from one to the other. He wasn’t going to hold his breath, though – he never had that kind of luck. He would probably end up paying over the odds for something, or kipping on someone’s sofa until he got himself sorted.
‘I’ll have to have a think,’ she said.
‘A flat will do, or even a shared house if I’m desperate. I might have to move fast if this sells as quickly as you think it might.’
‘I’m sorry, we don’t deal with shared housing. You should look on Gumtree or in the local paper for something like that.’ Her expression was sympathetic, with a hint of pity underlying it, and he wished he hadn’t said anything.
He didn’t feel like enlightening her. It was none of her business. He’d said too much as it was.
She was continuing to stare at him, but her expression was no longer one of sympathy. It was puzzled, and he could see a dawning realisation on her face but he wasn’t sure what it meant.
‘How do you feel about DIY?’ she asked.
‘It’s OK…’ What did that have to do with anything?
‘What I mean is, are you any good at it?’
‘I can put a shelf up, if that’s what you’re referring to.’
‘How about fence posts?’
‘I put the fencing panels up at the back.’
‘Good,’ she said. ‘In that case, I think I might know of somewhere.’
‘Oh?’
‘It’s a room in a house, so you would be sharing with someone, and it’s not in the best condition. In fact, helping with the renovations, especially the garden, would be part of the terms.’
‘Where is it?’
‘About half a mile from here.’
‘How much is it? I assume I’d be renting a bedroom and sharing the facilities, and would I have my own bathroom?’
‘Sorry, it would be just the room, with use of shared areas, including the bathroom. For the right person there would be no rental charge, as long as they agree to help with the renovations. And the er… grounds.’
‘Who would I be sharing with?’
‘The owner of the property.’
‘It’s a thought,’ Jack said, excitement rising in his chest. To live rent-free somewhere for several months would certainly help when it came to increasing his savings. From his research, he knew that rent could be as much, if not more, than paying a mortgage. It sounded ideal, and he wondered what the catch was.
‘I think I’d like to take a look at the property first,’ he said. ‘And meet the owner.’
Molly seemed to hesitate, and she gazed at him for so long that he wondered what was wrong, and he began to think she might be toying with him.
Then she took a deep breath and seemed to come to a decision. ‘You’ve already seen the property,’ she said, ‘and you’ve met the landlord.’
Jack had no idea who she could possibly mean. ‘Who is it?’ he asked, baffled. As far as he knew, he didn’t have any acquaintances in common with Molly.
When she said, ‘It’s me, I’m the landlord,’ she could have knocked him down with a feather.
***
What the hell had possessed her to do such a thing, Molly asked herself. What had she been thinking? She didn’t know this guy from Adam – as far as she was concerned, he could be a serial killer, or a conman, and she had just invited him to live with her.
But when the idea had come to her that he could move into her spare room, it had seemed the solution to all her problems. Not only would she have another person in the house to make her feel more secure (Jet was doing a sterling job, but he was only a dog, after all), she would also have the benefit of Jack’s muscles. With him helping, she could build the fence around the garden in a matter of days, not the weeks she had been anticipating, and once that was completed, he could make a start on sorting the garden out.
She had another plan for him too, but that could wait until he’d moved in. When she had told him she needed help with the grounds, she hadn’t just been referring to her garden…
Jack’s mouth was hanging open. ‘Excuse me? Did you say…? Are you the…? You want me to…?’
‘Move into my spare room and help me renovate my cottage?’ she supplied. ‘Yes, that’s right.’
‘And you’re not going to charge me any rent?’
‘Not if you make yourself useful.’ If only he was aware of what she meant by that, he might run a mile, she thought.
Jack was wearing such a comical expression that, despite her misgivings, she had to laugh. He looked like a cartoon character who had just been hit over the head with a rubber mallet.
‘Shall I leave you to think about it?’ she suggested, stuffing her tablet back into the briefcase. ‘In the meantime, do you want to go ahead with the instructions for the sale of your property?’
‘Um, I suppose.’ He seemed to gather himself. ‘I mean, yes, please do.’
‘I’ll get the contract drawn up and email it to you tomorrow,’ she said. ‘And here’s a copy of our fees and terms and conditions. If there’s anything you don’t understand, or anything you’re not happy with, give me a call.’ She handed him a business card.
He took it without looking, his attention on her as he stared into her eyes.
Molly’s heart gave a sudden lurch, and she swallowed nervously. He was staring at her as though he wanted to gobble her all up, bones and all.
‘Yes,’ he said. ‘I’d love to move in with you.’
‘Great. Er, when?’ Flipping heck, this was escalating fast!
‘How about Friday?’ he suggested.
‘Fine. Good. I’m um, looking forward to it.’ That wasn’t what she’d meant to say at all. What she had wanted to say was that she’d changed her mind, that it was a silly idea and he was to forget she’d mentioned it. But he was gazing at her with those blue eyes, and she felt as though her brain had turned to mush and she was finding it hard to breathe.
‘Do I have to sign anything?’ he asked.
‘Er, I suppose you’d better had,’ she said, struggling to focus. ‘I’m sure I can cobble— um, prepare a contract. I’ll email that to you tomorrow, as well.’ Suddenly practicalities began to rear their heads and her brain fog cleared enough for her to ask, ‘Will you be bringing your furniture with you?’
‘I’d like to, if you’ve got room for a few things.’
Didn’t she just! And it would solve her immediate problem of not having any furniture of her own. ‘You can bring it all, if you like; I’ve got plenty of room,’ she said. ‘Don’t you want to see the inside of the house before you decide? I’ve got to warn you, it’s not the Ritz.’
‘I’m sure it’ll be fine. Is it OK if I book Friday off and move in sometime during the day? If I can get a removal van, that is.’
Gosh, he seemed keen. Too keen, and she wondered if he had another motive besides the obvious one of needing a cheap (free) roof over his head.
She decided she was being silly. Of course he didn’t. How could he have known she was going to ask him to move into her cottage when she hadn’t known herself until a few seconds before she’d opened her mouth?
He was just being frugal, and knew a good deal when he saw one.
She wondered whether he would still think it a good deal when she told him what he had to do in exchange for rent?
‘There is one more thing,’ she said, and part of her hoped he would change his mind when she told him what it was. ‘Do you like dogs?’