Chapter Seven
CHAPTER
SEVEN
‘Right, now you’re going to take the spatula and run it down the crack to open it up a little. But don’t forget, safety first.’
Beth paused the Bunnings DIY help video, squared her shoulders, donned her builder’s mask and safety glasses, and moved the ladder into position, directly underneath the crack in the dining room wall, which ran in a jagged line from the cornice down towards the floor.
With spatula in hand, she climbed to the third rung of the ladder, raised the pointy corner of the tool to the crack in the wall and began shaving plaster from its edges, copying the technique of the man in the video.
A week had passed since Ellie had witnessed her at her lowest point and brought her back from the brink of darkness.
She’d made soup, just as she’d promised, and had let Beth know that if she ever needed to talk, she would be there to listen.
Beth hadn’t taken the opportunity to unburden herself, but it was nice to know she had the option. One she’d never had before.
The following morning, she’d let herself out of the B&B before anyone else had risen and noticed that the pieces of her decimated laptop had already been cleared away. Proof again that Ellie was, quite possibly, the sweetest person on earth.
After gouging at the plaster a while longer, Beth sighed and dropped her arms, her muscles aching. She had a feeling that fixing cracks in walls would have nothing on gardening when it came to the impact on her body. She was not looking forward to tomorrow.
Needing to quench her thirst, she stepped down off the ladder and grabbed her water bottle from the kitchen bench, but just as she put it to her lips, she heard an odd groaning sound. She stilled, certain the noise hadn’t come from her or her water bottle, and listened for it again.
And there it was, a groan, this time followed by a louder, harsher sound. Like wood cracking.
She stared up at the stained ceiling and when a crack appeared in the plasterboard, right above the ladder she’d been standing on a moment ago, she edged towards the front hallway, her spidey senses tingling.
Another ear-splitting noise shattered any hope that she was imagining things, that nothing was wrong and, without wasting another second, she bolted for the front door as an almighty crash filled the air.
Bursting outside, she cleared the verandah and didn’t stop until she was a safe distance from the house. Only then, with her heart in her throat, did she turn back to survey the damage.
From this vantage point, nothing looked amiss. The roof still appeared intact, though a whole lot of dust was currently wafting from the front door. God, if she’d waited a second longer, she would’ve been in serious trouble.
What on earth had just happened? And, more importantly, what did she do now?
Assess the damage!
She rounded the side of the house and headed straight for the kitchen window.
Which, she discovered, was far too high for her to peer through.
Retrieving a few old crates from the garden shed, she piled them on top of each other and leaned the stack against the side of the house.
Ignoring how precariously the crates were balanced, she climbed high enough to grab the window ledge and hoist herself up another inch.
The inside of the window was caked in dust again, as if she’d never cleaned it, but there was no mistaking the utter chaos and destruction inside.
Right above where she’d been standing was a gaping black hole.
Ceiling plaster hung down, an electrical cord dangled and insulation covered every surface—kitchen counter, floor, walls.
She couldn’t even make out where the ladder stood or if the roof beams were still where they were meant to be.
Crap. Not even Bunnings could help her now.
Frustrated, she turned from the window and the discouraging sight inside, forgetting she was perilously perched at the top of a very unstable mound of plastic. She flailed her arms, trying to regain her balance and—
Ooof.
Lying flat on her back, she struggled for breath, unable to do anything except look up at the sky.
She lay there, stunned and immobile, until finally, finally, she managed to suck in a blessed lungful of air.
Hauling it in, her chest heaving, she rolled to the side for some relief, but the dirt and prickly weeds pressing against her face offered no comfort.
She groaned. This was one shitty situation. What the hell was she going to do?
Needing to get up and get moving, she pressed her hands into the ground but immediately yelped in pain. Her right wrist throbbed angrily, but a quick body scan revealed no other injuries—a single, pathetic blessing in this otherwise catastrophic series of events.
Taking care to avoid any unnecessary use of her injured wrist, she got up off the ground and headed for the front yard.
As she watched the dust still billowing from inside the house, she chewed her lip and considered her options.
With no idea whether the roof was in danger of collapsing altogether, she couldn’t very well head inside and start cleaning up.
And maybe an invisible danger, like asbestos fibres, might now lurk in the mess that covered every nook and cranny of the house.
No, going inside would be the most idiotic move she could make.
It dawned on her, then, that she couldn’t do this alone. She needed help from someone with experience. Someone who knew what they were talking about. Someone who could help her deal with this mess and tell her what her next steps should be.
Whipping out her phone—thank god she’d had it in her pocket when she bolted from the house—she used her good hand to bring up her browser, ready to search for local builders.
Then she remembered the conversation she’d had with Noah several weeks ago. He had experience working on old houses—he must know enough to point her in the right direction.
She’d have to ask Ellie for his number. And then she’d have to call him, because people didn’t ask for big, complicated favours like this via text.
She glanced at her phone. Maybe she should complete a few online enquiry forms first, just to see what the availability was like for some of these businesses. In case Noah couldn’t help her.
No! She shook the thought from her head—she was being ridiculous. She needed to suck it up and call him.
But the prospect of having to do so was already making her anxious. So anxious she felt nauseous.
Maybe Ellie wouldn’t mind doing it for her instead. She would, Beth was certain of it.
Sighing, she hung her head, annoyed at herself, then shoved her phone in her back pocket and stalked towards her rental car.
* * *
Beth found Ellie in the B&B’s foyer, tapping away at her phone.
‘Oh, hey! I was just about to message you.’ She greeted Beth with a flash of dimples, which disappeared almost immediately. ‘Jeez, are you okay? You look like you’ve had a rough day.’
Beth waved away her concern. ‘I’m fine. Are you going somewhere?’
Dressed in tight black jeans, boots and a suede jacket, Ellie looked like she was ready for a night out.
‘Yep.’ She held up her phone. ‘Which is why I was messaging. To see if you wanted to come to barefoot bowls.’ In a singsong voice, she added, ‘Second round of the season.’
Beth couldn’t help smiling. ‘You’re nothing if not persistent.’
Ellie grinned, appearing to take it as a compliment. ‘I know, right! I never give up! It’s one of my finer qualities, I believe. So will you come?’
Beth scrunched up her nose, hating to say no. ‘I appreciate the invite, Ellie, I do, but that kind of thing … it’s really not my scene.’
Like she had a scene at all. But given that Ellie had already seen her at her worst, she didn’t mind admitting it.
Ellie pouted but only briefly. ‘I wish you’d come, but I guess I can accept that it’s not everyone’s cup of tea. Don’t think that means I’ll stop asking, though.’
‘No harm in asking, I suppose.’ Looks like she’d have to grow accustomed to saying no to Ellie. ‘Hey, um, do you think you could do me a favour before you head out?’
‘Of course. Anything for a friend.’
Trying not to show just how happy Ellie’s use of the F word made her, Beth cleared her throat. ‘Well, I had a bit of a mishap at the house and Noah mentioned he’s got renovation experience so I was hoping you’d call him for me and ask him to meet me there tomorrow because I really need his advice.’
She brought her hands together, waiting with bated breath for Ellie’s answer. God, she loathed asking for help.
‘A mishap?’ Ellie asked, her brows drawing together with concern. ‘What kind of mishap?’
‘Um, the kind where the ceiling caves in.’
‘What! Beth, that’s more than a mishap. It’s a bloody disaster!’
‘Yeah, I guess that would be a more accurate term. Which is why I need Noah’s help. Will you call him for me?’
Ellie looked stricken. ‘I’m sorry. I’m afraid I can’t.’
Beth’s stomach bottomed out and she temporarily lost the ability to speak. This is what she got for putting herself out there. Rejection. And it was absolutely humiliating. She wished to be anywhere but here.
Averting her gaze, she scratched her neck, the blood rushing to her cheeks making her skin itchy. ‘Oh, o-okay.’
‘It’s just that he’ll be on the road, heading into town.’ Ellie shrugged apologetically. ‘No reception.’
‘Oh.’ Beth’s embarrassment evaporated.
‘The good news is,’ Ellie continued, a sly grin curving her lips, ‘he’s heading in for barefoot bowls. You could always come with me and ask him yourself.’
Beth narrowed her eyes. ‘I know what you’re doing.’
Fanning a hand over her heart, Ellie feigned innocence. ‘Am I that obvious?’
‘Blatantly.’
Ellie laughed and, looking incredibly proud of herself, made a curtsy.
Beth chewed her lip, unwilling to concede just yet. ‘Do you think you could just ask him when you see him?’
Sobering quickly, Ellie shrugged. ‘I could, and I will if that’s what you want, but don’t you think it’d be better to ask him yourself?’
The ghost of a smile softened Ellie’s lips, but her eyes were kind, giving Beth the impression that she was sympathetic to her internal struggles. For that reason, and that reason alone, she gave up the fight.
‘Yes,’ she acknowledged. ‘You’re right. I should probably be the one to ask him.’ And she might just be capable of doing it, too, if Ellie were by her side. And seeing him in person would mean she wouldn’t have to pick up the phone and call him.
Ellie’s face lit up. ‘So you’ll come?’
Beth sighed. ‘Yes. I’ll come.’
Ellie squealed. ‘Let’s get you ready!’ She reached for Beth’s hand, no doubt intending to drag her upstairs and help her choose an outfit, except Beth yelped in pain causing Ellie to throw her hands in the air.
‘What just happened?’
‘I fell and hurt my wrist earlier.’
‘Fell? Where? How?’
Beth bit her lip. ‘At the house. Off a tower of crates.’
Ellie looked genuinely confused. ‘What were you doing on top of a tower of crates?’
‘Trying to peek through the kitchen window to assess the damage to the ceiling.’ Sure, she knew now that it had been a dumb risk to take.
Thankfully, Ellie didn’t point out just how dumb she’d been. Though she did point down the hall and order Beth into the kitchen.
‘Off you go. I’ll get the first aid kit.’
Feeling sheepish but grateful, Beth ducked her head and did as she was told. ‘Thanks, Ellie.’
‘Anything for a friend, remember?’ Ellie winked, then headed into the office, presumably to retrieve her stock of medical supplies.
Despite her aching wrist, warm and fuzzy feelings accompanied Beth into the kitchen. Twice in a matter of minutes, Ellie had referred to her as a friend. Just the confidence boost she needed heading into a situation that was, quite honestly, terrifying.