Chapter 2
‘Mind your step, kids,’ Olivia calls as her son and daughter follow on behind. She can tell by the slope of their shoulders, their faces, that they are not nearly as excited about this as she’d hoped they’d be.
‘All right, Mum. I think we can manage some steps, y’know,’ says her son Drew, blowing his floppy fringe away from his hot forehead. Her daughter, Bella, picks her way down the steps more carefully, mindful of her bare toes in flip-flops.
‘God, it’s a bit of a shit hole, isn’t it?’ she says as she finally catches up to them, appraising the building site and scaffolding. ‘I thought you said it was nearly finished.’
‘Language, Belle,’ admonishes Olivia softly.
She has given up trying to control her daughter now she is at university but she still tries to keep up some standards.
‘You’ve just got to imagine all this will be gone and we’ll have a lovely decked area, sun loungers, fire pit.
But the really exciting stuff is happening inside.
We’ve knocked through a lot of the rooms and there’ll be a glorious open-plan living, dining, kitchen space.
’ She feels like she’s been giving the same spiel for months now, telling everyone about the plans for the renovation.
‘You’ll love it,’ she promises. ‘Imagine the parties, the entertaining we can do. Friends down for the summer. You could invite people on holiday.’
‘No thanks, Mum. I’m already planning to do Ibiza with the girls next summer.’
Olivia feels herself deflate.
‘Oh well, we don’t have to decide right now.
The main thing is we’ll have the whole of next summer to enjoy here once it’s ready.
Long weekends away as soon as the weather starts to pick up next spring.
And I can’t wait to come back in autumn once all the tourists have left and the kids are back to school. ’
‘Mum, we are tourists,’ Drew reminds her.
‘No, we’re not. We’re homeowners. Part of the community now.’
‘Second-home owners,’ clarifies her son. ‘Part of the problem, not the solution.’
She wishes he wouldn’t be quite so high-handed with her these days.
Drew has always been her favourite. Oh, she knows you’re not supposed to have them, but she’s so proud of her bright, talented son.
Though, since he started his A levels and began studying politics, their views rarely seem to align any more.
Bella, on the other hand, is just like her father.
Both fire signs with hair to match. When they are sitting on the sofa, red heads bent together, sharing one of their in-jokes, Olivia has felt a little left out over the years.
It doesn’t help that she’s often the butt of the joke, their cruel humour.
They think she’s a dippy hippy, an airhead, because she believes in more than the physical, material aspects of life.
‘Is it safe to come in, darling?’ she calls ahead to her husband, Tobias, who has marched on straight into the house.
He’s been very much involved in the renovation right from the beginning, taking pride in project-managing the build in conjunction with Marcus, the architect.
Speaking of which, she thinks, shouldn’t he be here by now?
She looks over her shoulder hoping to catch a glimpse of Marcus’s distinctive car and tall, muscular build clad in its usual uniform of white shirt and high-vis jacket. Instead, Tobias shouts to her from within the house before his russet head and pink-cheeked face appears in the doorway.
‘Come on then, you lot,’ he barks.
Obediently, Olivia gathers up the hem of her long white dress, silver bangles clanking around her wrists, and steps carefully through the sandy rubble and over the threshold.
The house appears to have been turned inside out since she last viewed it, all those months ago.
When she and Tobias had seen it advertised for sale in a local estate agent’s window, their mouths had both watered.
This was the one, she was sure of it. They had reached the end of a blissful week on holiday.
Tobias and Drew had spent most of the time sailing while she and Bella had sunbathed and swum in the sea – when they weren’t pottering around the chi-chi boutiques or buying fresh fish to barbecue for supper.
The house was obviously in need of a grand-scale makeover, which combined with the asking price had been a bit of a stretch.
But happily they’d paid off the mortgage on their London property years ago and Tobias needed something on which to spend his bonus.
It was either that or give it all to the taxman.
Now, as she looks about at the high ceilings, the marble fireplaces, the large windows, they are all that’s left of the original building they first viewed.
Most of the walls have been stripped back to the bare bones, the hideous carpets torn up to reveal beautiful herringbone wood flooring, which will be lovingly sanded and restored.
She hopes the builders are being careful to protect all these features – the true spirit of the house, as she likes to imagine it.
As soon as she had stepped inside this place, she felt it was right.
It had a good energy. This was her future. She could be happy here, finally.
Olivia continues down the stairs to the main floor as Bella and Drew explore the upper level, choosing what will eventually be their bedrooms. As she descends, her husband’s imperious tones waft up to meet her.
‘Why hasn’t there been more progress?’ says Tobias pointedly.
He wanders around pulling at random wires sprouting from the walls, toeing piles of debris on the floor.
‘I thought we’d agreed that these rooms would all be replastered by now and the first fix on the wiring was supposed to have been in place last week. Why are we behind schedule?’
There is no real need to shout now, as all the tools and machines have been turned off in honour of their visit, the various workmen congregating outside in the garden to take advantage of the break.
The foreman rocks backwards and forwards on his heels.
‘Two of the lads have been off sick,’ he answers. ‘One of them was testing positive for Covid so he was off for a while.’
‘Oh for God’s sake,’ says Tobias. ‘It’s no more than a common cold. Everyone with half a brain is fully vaccinated these days, anyway. Must they really take so much time off?’
Olivia joins her husband and places what she hopes is a calming hand on his shoulder. She hates it when his skin takes on this livid, mottled hue. The foreman, whose name is actually Bill, she believes (though Tobias never seems to remember this) shrugs in a ‘what can you do?’ sort of way.
‘We’re still a bit under-staffed. I’ll see if we can’t draft in another guy. Make up some lost time,’ he says.
‘Problem?’ calls another voice behind them all and Olivia looks up to see Marcus has arrived.
‘You know, you should all be wearing hard hats in here,’ he reminds them and proffers a spare one to Olivia.
She takes it shyly, placing it on her head, wondering what it will be doing to her artfully tousled updo.
‘Oh, hello, Marcus,’ says Tobias. ‘Can you have a word and make sure we pick up the slack a bit? We’ve got to make the most of the weather before autumn sets in.
Especially if that roof is to be patched up in time.
I promised Livvy here that we’d be finished by winter.
She’s been fantasising about some alone time by the sea, haven’t you, darling?
’ He winks at the other two men. ‘Can’t wait to get away from me and the kids. ’
‘Tobias,’ she scolds, feeling herself blush. She pivots between Bill and Marcus, smiling. ‘Honestly, don’t worry about me. I know how long these things can take.’
Marcus coughs.
‘Better to get the job done right first time, Mrs Woolf.’
His face is stern and she feels herself straighten, reprimanded, as she nods eagerly in agreement.
‘Of course. Exactly. Better to be safe than sorry.’