Chapter 21
21
It’s Wednesday morning and I’m feeling nervous. Ernest is due to arrive at any moment to start greasing the mill in preparation for its (hopefully fatal) test run, but there’s no sign of Ben’s mate Dave yet. If the tree doesn’t go today, this whole fiasco is just going to drag out, and I want to know where we stand so we can make a plan. At least we’ve finally finished the windows, which I have to say look particularly good now in their fresh white paint, and Ben’s other friend Chris is cracking on at an impressive rate installing the new central heating system. I’m conscious that I’ve only got a few more months where I’m actually going to be paid a salary, but living at Mum and Phil’s has been ridiculously cheap because they flatly refused to charge more than a peppercorn rent, so I’m actually pretty flush with cash and relaxed where day-to-day living expenses are concerned. I also managed to offload the idiotic Porsche, which I’ve replaced with a much more sensible SUV. Rebecca also seems fairly relaxed where money is concerned, no doubt in part because Alice relented and didn’t ask her to pay back the three months of mortgage cover. I did think it was odd that she seemed to be playing hardball over it, given how she’d promised to make everything all right, so I was pleased for Rebecca when she changed her mind.
Rebecca and Ben’s date night at the pub obviously went better than expected, as I caught her trying to creep in early on Sunday morning. We normally make a point of staying away from the mill on Sundays, so there’s one day of the week where we’re free of it, but she insisted on making a picnic and taking it down there, so we all trolled along too. It was actually a lovely day. Ben spent a lot of time trying, with various degrees of success, to teach Rollo and Louis to row on the lake while the rest of us observed from the safety of the shore. To my mind, the splashing-to-progress ratio was definitely heavily weighted towards the splashing side, but they did manage to make it all the way around by the end of the day, coming ashore completely soaked. Mum offered to bring Rollo home with us so Rebecca and Ben could have some more time alone, which was obviously well used if the flushed and happy expression on her face when she turned up a few hours later was anything to go by.
Thankfully, any apprehension I might have had about their burgeoning relationship getting in the way of progress at the mill has proved unfounded. They are openly affectionate with each other, but we’re working as hard as we ever have. Today, we’ve finally started to rip out the tired old kitchen as, even if we don’t get permission to relocate it into the mill, we need to do something with it. Ben is currently dismantling the coal-fired range, a messy job because every interior surface of it is thick with coal dust and it seems to be putting up quite a fight, so he looks a little like a miner at the end of a particularly mucky shift. The telltale smudge of coal dust on Rebecca’s nose that I’ve chosen not to mention indicates that they’ve managed to find a moment together already this morning, despite the heavy workload.
The sound of an approaching engine makes me glance out of the window, just in time to see a covered pickup truck pull up and park outside the door. The words ‘D. Lodge, Tree Surgeon’ are emblazoned on the side along with a phone number and email address, so I’m guessing this must be Ben’s mate Dave. I’m therefore rather surprised when the driver’s door opens and a stocky woman with short, ash-blonde spiky hair hops out. She’s dressed all in black except for her boots, which are Dr Martens with a riotous floral pattern. Another woman emerges from the passenger side; she’s tall and athletic looking, with dark brown hair pulled back in a ponytail.
Ben has obviously heard them arrive too, as he’s on his feet and outside to greet them before they’ve even had a chance to close the doors.
‘Bloody hell, Ben!’ the stocky one exclaims when she sees him. ‘Did you lose a fight with a coal scuttle? You can keep well away from both of us, thank you very much.’
‘Nice to see you too,’ he says warmly as Rebecca and I walk out to join them.
‘Thea, Rebecca, this is my mate Dave,’ Ben tells us before turning back to her. ‘Thea and Rebecca own the mill. I’m just helping them out.’
‘Of course you are,’ she says, laughing. ‘I’m Dave, which is short for Davina if you hadn’t already worked it out. This is my partner Brooke, which isn’t short for anything. Ben tells me you’ve got a tree that needs moving?’
‘Yes, round the corner. Would you like me to show you?’
‘Nah, you’re all right. A tree surgeon who can’t find the right tree isn’t going to be in business for long. There isn’t any chance of a cup of tea though, is there?’
‘We’re pulling the kitchen apart at the moment, but we still have a kettle,’ I tell her. ‘How do you like it?’
‘White without, please. Do you want one, Brooke hun?’
‘Yes, please. Same as hers if that’s OK.’
‘Why didn’t you tell me Dave was a woman?’ I whisper to Ben as we make our way back indoors. Rebecca has elected to stay outside, chatting to Dave and Brooke while they change into their work gear and pull various harnesses and massive chainsaws out of the back of the pickup.
‘Does it make a difference?’ he asks, clearly amused.
‘Of course not! It’s just that I kind of assumed that a tree surgeon with a name like Dave?—’
‘Would be a man. Everyone does. It’s part of her USP. If you got in a bloke, let’s call him Terry, who fit all the stereotypes of a tree surgeon, you’d probably forget him before he even reached the end of the drive. You won’t forget Dave, will you?’
‘And Brooke, is she…?’
‘Brooke is Dave’s everything. Business partner, life partner, the lot. They met when we all started secondary school and have been inseparable ever since. They live in the village and got married four years ago. I think Brooke would like to start a family, but Dave’s worried about how she’ll cope on her own with the business. Anyway, they’re great friends of mine and they’ll do an excellent job.’
‘Thinking of friends, we probably ought to chat about you and Rebecca.’
He grins. ‘Are you going to ask me what my intentions are?’
‘Not at all. She’s very smitten with you though, so I just wanted to check whether you feel the same way, or whether I’m going to be mopping her up with boxes of tissues in a month or two.’
‘I think she’s incredible,’ he says simply. ‘To come through everything that she’s been through and still be as optimistic as she is, that’s amazing. Look, I know you two are going to sell this place and move on, but you’ll still be in the area, won’t you? She’s been very clear that she’s not going to keep yanking Rollo out of one school to stuff him in another.’
‘So you’re thinking this could be a long-term thing?’
‘I’d like it to be, yes.’
A thought comes to me. ‘And, just for the sake of argument, if we were to buy another property not too far away, would you be as helpful as you have been here?’
‘My God!’ he exclaims theatrically, clapping a hand to his forehead. ‘This is a honeytrap. I should have known!’
‘What?’ I have no idea what he’s talking about.
‘This is how you operate, isn’t it? Find a handyman and get Rebecca to seduce him so he’ll willingly work himself to the bone for you. She’s the honey and you’re the trap.’
‘I’m pretty sure that’s not how a honeytrap works, and you’re miles off course,’ I tell him with a laugh. ‘I was just curious, that’s all. Oh, that must be Ernest arriving now. I’d better go and greet him.’
‘Before you do, let me just tell you in all seriousness that you have nothing to fear from me where Rebecca is concerned. I know it’s early days, but I’ve got a good feeling about her, and I’ll do everything I can to make her happy.’
I smile as I pick up the mugs of tea. ‘I know you will, Ben. You’re one of the good guys.’
‘I like to hope so.’
My day is brightened considerably when I realise that Ernest is not alone. Once more, George is with him, looking frankly edible in dark blue overalls. I wonder if he’ll get hot and have to peel them off his top half, tying them round his waist so I can appreciate his biceps as he works.
‘Look at that, George,’ Ernest exclaims as he levers himself out of the driving seat. ‘Our tea is waiting for us. That’s service, that is.’
‘Sorry, Ernest,’ I tell him. ‘These are for the tree surgeons. I’ll get you something in a minute.’
‘They’re here then?’ he asks.
I don’t reply, nodding at the pickup truck instead. As if on cue, the telltale sound of chainsaw motors suddenly fills the air, and I round the side of the cottage to find Dave and Brooke already hard at work in the branches of the tree. Rebecca is watching them with an awed expression on her face.
‘It’s extraordinary,’ she yells over the din. ‘Kind of like ballet but with massive power tools.’
I stand and watch with her for a few moments and I see what she means. Dave and Brooke are in their harnesses working their way confidently through the tree, as bits of branch fall regularly onto the ground below. After a few minutes, I catch Brooke’s eye and wave the mugs, before settling them on the ground to go and deal with Ernest and George. It looks like I’m not a moment too soon, as Ernest has cornered Ben and appears to be giving him a detailed lecture on some aspect of mill mechanics. Ben is trying to look interested, but I can tell he’s desperate to get away so he can carry on fighting with the range.
‘Ernest, I’ve been meaning to ask you a question,’ I say to him in one of his rare pauses for breath. ‘It’s very kind of you to come and do this, but we haven’t talked about finance and what your time costs.’
‘Oh, you don’t need to worry about that,’ he replies. ‘We’re still in the discovery phase, so HIBT picks up the tab. If we find it’s not viable, I think there’s a fee for the certificate, but Charlotte will tell you all about that. If, as I suspect, it’s a runner, then there are various things we can offer to help you get the most out of it. But let’s not jump the gun, eh? George and I have a lot of work to do before we get to that stage.’ He glances uneasily at Dave and Brooke. ‘I hope they know what they’re doing,’ he observes unhappily. ‘Women wielding power tools make me uneasy. It’s like women driving buses or lorries. Unnatural.’
‘I won’t hold you up,’ I tell him, forcing myself to remain civil. ‘If you want to make a start, I’ll bring your tea round to you in a few minutes.’
‘Perfect. Right, come on, George. We’ve got greasing to do.’
By three o’clock, the tree has been reduced to a pile of logs, and the rest of us are watching as Ernest and George carefully ease the tarpaulin away from the water wheel. It’s brittle from being out in the sun, and they’re being careful not to leave any pieces on the ground, in case they get washed into the river when we open the sluice. I’ve got my fingers metaphorically crossed, hoping that the holes in the tarpaulin have let in enough weather to make the wheel underneath unusable, but Ernest’s shout of triumph when they finally get all the tarpaulin away to reveal a depressingly solid-looking wheel is enough to assure me that the mill has played another bloody ace.
‘OK,’ Ernest calls. ‘We’re ready. George, have you tentered the stones?’
‘Yup.’
‘What the bloody hell does that mean?’ Dave asks Ben.
‘No idea,’ he replies.
‘Right,’ Ernest shouts again. ‘I’m going to set our remote camera up inside the mill. The rest of you, stand well back, all right?’
‘Why?’ I ask. ‘What are you expecting to happen?’
‘I’m hoping it will start running normally, but there’s a lot of heavy machinery in there that could make quite a mess if it breaks loose, so best to play it safe and keep clear to begin with.’
We’ve all seen the heavy machinery he’s talking about, and respectfully take quite a few steps back. Ernest disappears inside the mill, reappearing a few moments later and leaving George alone at the top of the channel leading down to the water wheel.
‘How come George gets the dangerous job?’ I ask Ernest.
‘Simple. He can run faster than me,’ Ernest replies with a smile, before giving George a thumbs up.
‘He’ll open the sluice gate to start the water flowing,’ Ernest tells us all. ‘We’ll be able to see what’s happening on my phone screen.’
We all watch in silence as George turns the handle to raise the gate. Even at this distance, we can clearly hear the clack-clack of the ratchet mechanism, and my heartbeat quickens as water begins to pour over the wheel. George, having done his job, sprints over to join us.
‘Well, this is a bit of an anticlimax,’ Dave observes a few moments later. She’s right. The water is pouring over the wheel but there’s no sign of motion.
‘It takes time,’ George tells her. ‘We need to fill enough buckets in the wheel to overcome the inertia.’
We stand and watch as nothing continues to happen. I’m just beginning to hope that maybe Ernest’s diagnosis was wrong and the whole mechanism is seized after all when the wheel suddenly lurches and starts to turn. We all crowd round Ernest’s phone to see what’s happening inside, and I can clearly see the massive cogs turning and meshing with each other. Ernest’s face lights up.
‘Ladies and gentlemen,’ he announces. ‘We have a runner!’
Fuck.