EIGHT
My face burned like a bushfire. Sandra announced my arrival at Everly Heath like I was the fucking queen on a tour of the UK.
“My niece, Kat, has moved up here from London. She is renovating a house on Evanshore Road.”
“Rose’s old place?” someone shouted out.
“Yes,” Sandra said.
“Didn’t Brian and Jim live there when they were little?” another voice piped up.
“Yes, they did,” Sandra explained. “The house has sentimental value to the family, so Kat would like to renovate it. Then, it will be put on the market.”
“She’s going to do it up and then sell it?” a woman in her fifties asked.
“Typical,” someone mumbled.
All of those eyes shifted back to me, judgemental. Whispers broke out amongst the crowd.
Thank you, Auntie Sandra.
Now I was the gentrifying southerner, here to make a quick buck .
Liam chuckled beside me. “Try and win them back now.”
“It’s her choice. It was her late father’s home,” Sandra insisted, and some of the murmurs stopped. “She would like to bring the house back to life so that another family can build memories of their own.”
I spotted some nods and shrugs amongst the members. I didn’t love that Sandra mentioned Dad, but I supposed in a town this gossipy, it was only a matter of time before people put two and two together and realised I was Jim Williams’s daughter.
“So, I would like to ask anyone—tradesmen or women for help. She’s looking for a builder. And before you lot start”—Sandra glanced at Liam—“the Hunters are busy with their lot. They can’t spare any work.”
So, Sandra must have had a word with Liam. How had she done that so quickly? God, between Pat and Sandra, I wouldn’t want to mess with the women of Everly Heath. They worked quickly.
Sandra continued, “I thought I’d bring it to the club and see if anyone knew of any trustworthy tradesmen—”
“I might be able to spare some time,” a ginger man piped up. He glanced behind, greeting me with a warm smile, and hope bloomed in my chest. “I can come over tomorrow—”
I felt a movement and then a tall shadow loomed over me.
“I’ll do it,” Liam’s voice called out, resolute.
Sandra’s mouth fell open. “Oh. Are you sure, Liam? I thought—”
“I said I’ll do it.”
I stood up, looking at Liam. “What are you doing?” I said through gritted teeth.
“I’m solving your problem, Red.”
“I didn’t ask you to.”
“Hm, that’s funny. Because about half an hour ago, you were begging me—”
“I didn’t beg.”
Or I hadn’t got around to it.
“—and asking if I’d come and take another look.”
“Yes, but—” I faltered. Why was I disagreeing? Wasn’t this what I wanted?
“There might be someone more suitable here.” I gestured to the crowd watching our interaction with wide-eyed fascination.
Liam crossed his arms, and his biceps rippled—actually rippled like something from a cartoon. It was ridiculous.
“There isn’t. Trust me. And it’s better that I just say yes now than you being bartered in front of every idiot at this meeting. It could take us all night.” Liam shifted his attention back to Sandra. “I’ll sort it. Better I do it than any of yous cock it up. I’d end up having to fix it anyway.”
“You know some of us do the same job, Hunter,” said the ginger man who had offered to come around tomorrow.
“Jason, I wouldn’t wish your tiling on my worst enemy.”
Jason shot up in his seat, going beet red as laughter trickled out amongst the crowd.
“Jason.” Sandra’s sharp tone had Jason sitting back down. She turned to Liam. “Lovely, Liam, thank you.”
“Oh, you’ve done it now, Hunter,” Lydia muttered under her breath .
“It’s fine. I can handle it.”
“If you say so,” Lydia said in a sing-song voice.
Liam sat down, his face forward, and all I could do was stare at him, dumbfounded.
“Close your mouth, Red. You look like a goldfish.” He turned and looked at me, and I swear I could see just a glimmer of something in his eyes. A challenge? Entertainment, perhaps? I wasn’t sure.
“Why—” I sputtered. “You clearly hate me—”
Liam’s eyes closed briefly. “I don’t hate you.”
“Okay, you dislike me. Semantics. Why would you help—”
In a hushed tone, Liam said, “You might not know your family very well, but they are good people. The best people. Your aunt is like a mum to me. I owe her. So I will help you out.”
Liam sat back, watching the next item on the agenda in the meeting. I wanted to ask more, but here wasn’t the place. Not when so many members seemed to be eyeing us up curiously.
It was when Sandra called the meeting to a close that the onslaught began—it was like every single member of the Everly Heath community lined up in front of Liam. Liam sighed and got up to talk to the first lady, a woman in her mid-sixties. She had a wide, feline smile on her face.
I turned to Lydia. “What is going on?”
“Liam just opened the floodgates. He’s been putting in major boundaries since he took over from his dad. Kevin used to do a lot of favours for people—he was the first to bend over backwards for people. Liam put a stop to it. Well—” She glanced down at me. “Until you, apparently.”
My cheeks burned, and unanswered questions rang through my head. What had changed his mind?
I sat and waited for Liam to finish speaking to people. I wanted to speak to him. I wanted to know where I stood when it came to the house and the next steps. Liam was speaking to the fifth person—a young lad who couldn’t be eighteen—when I decided to get a pint while I waited for him. When I came back, he was gone.
“He managed to escape,” Lydia explained when I looked confused, holding my pint of Guinness and a Coke Zero for Liam—his usual order, according to Sandra. I tried to hide the way I deflated.
So, I sat with Lydia and Jack for the remainder of the evening. They dissected the meeting, gossiping and taking bets on how many people Peter bribed to vote Noodle the pug out of the club. Jack was like a hyper kid, his eyes widening with mischief as he sipped his drink. He seemed like someone that would get you into trouble if you weren’t careful. Lydia seemed to match his energy, them both bouncing off each other. At first, I wondered if there was something between them, but when Jack went to the loo, Lydia assured me that wasn’t the case. “He’s cute, but he’s not my type.”
I wasn’t sure what her type was—I’d never asked or met any of her partners, if she’d had any.
I was a bit giddy by my second Guinness, smiling between gulps. I’d done it. By the end of the day, I had a builder. Sure, he was annoying as fuck and got under my skin, but my (financially suitable) Pinterest dreams could be made a reality. As long as I could be civil with Liam, and I would be, it was all possible. I wasn’t a failure. I could achieve something. Rebuild the house into something a new family could enjoy for years, just like my dad had.
I’d have closure, move on, and build my life in London.
I smiled, sipping my second pint of Guinness.
“What you smiling at?” Lydia asked with a matching grin.
“Nothing.”
“Want another one?” Jack asked, getting out of his seat.
I beamed up at Jack. “Sure. Thanks.”
Later, I piled into an Uber. Things were too hazy, and I was too lazy to walk. Plus, I used the excuse of the persistent drizzle that had sprinkled down all evening, glossing the roads and the trees like the Lanc?me juicy tubes I had coveted as a kid.
I spotted something new attached to my door when I got to the house. A new shiny silver lock was neatly screwed into the wood. While the door was knackered, the new lock shone in the porch light.
A key was Sellotaped to the frame, with a note which read:
No more strange men ‘committing domestic burglary’. I’ll be in touch. — L