Chapter 28 Wesley
Wesley
“Oi… Boss?” I spin around, still in a daze as Alfie calls out to me. I’ve been completely lost in my own head, stuck in my thoughts where nothing seems to matter apart from Shannon. I’ve been this way for a few weeks.
Things are getting serious between us, even though it’s only been five minutes since we officially said we were more than just two neighbours who like fucking each other. Yeah, there’s a strong chemistry between us.
I get back to the matter at hand and focus properly on Alfie, who looks a bit more stressed out than usual.
“What’s up, mate?” I ask, keeping my tone light.
It’s always clear to see when something’s bothering one of them, and more than just being their boss, I want them to feel they can talk to me about any problems.
“Er… can we go in there?” He nods towards the portacabin.
“Come on.” Gesturing him to follow me, when we reach the top steps, I point at his boots. He gives them a quick stamp and scrapes them against the mud grate while I take a seat behind my desk.
“Sit down, mate.” He does, pulling off his hard hat and setting it down on the desk. He swallows down a harsh breath before looking at me.
“I’ve… er got summat to tell you, and you ain’t gonna like it.
” His voice quivers. He’s a good lad, young, reliable, brings a bit of cheer to the site.
Always up for a laugh, known for his pranks, as well as being on the receiving end of them.
Leaning forwards, levelling with him. “Is there a problem you want to talk to me about, Alfie?” I pick up my pen, flipping over the coffee-stained notepad, waiting patiently while he gathers himself.
“I, erm… I got arrested a couple of weeks ago.” He drops his eyes, cheeks flushing red. I straighten up in my chair.
“What for?” I ask, keeping my voice steady.
“Pinching, boss.” For fuck’s sake. That’s not what I was expecting.
“And what exactly did you pinch, Alf?” He sinks further into himself, saying nothing. I let out a long breath and shove myself back into my chair, with my fingers clasped around the back of my head.
“If you want my help, you need to tell me everything.” I pause, forcing myself to stay calm.
Alfie’s real dad was locked up for robbery, and never gave two shits about him, but his mum remarried.
Alfie gets on with him and from what I know, the bloke has been good with him. He’s still not saying anything.
“Right,” I say, leaning forward and resting my hands on the desk. “Stop skirting around and just spit it out.”
He clears his throat. “Me and a few mates went to Nottingham… needed to get home, so we stole a car.” He whispers the last bit, but I bloody heard it. “We totalled it, the coppers nicked me.” I stare at him, stunned.
“What’s your stepdad say?” I ask. Alfie looks up at me, his eyes watery. He’s not a bad kid, just needs guidance. His real dad was a total fucking shit.
“He ain’t happy, he made me write a letter and shit.” I shake my head. “Why are you two weeks late in telling me Alfie?” He should have called me, and I would have picked them up despite what time it was. I also know his stepdad would have been straight there for him too.
He clears his throat. “I know I should have told you. Dec said I needed to be honest with you.” Wait? He spoke to Declan about this? The bloke whose house we’re currently building.
“Christ’s sake, Alfie…” He springs from the chair, arms waving about in defence, tears running down his cheeks. The lads scared bless him, and as much as it will do him good to be afraid, it’s also the best way to learn from the mistakes he’s made.
“I don’t want to end up like that fucking arsehole.
” I already know he’s talking about his dad.
“I was hiding out in the back bedroom and Dec walked in.” He shoves a hand through his messy hair.
“Dec asked me what was going on, he just said to tell you.” What does he expect me to do?
Ring the coppers or pay off the problem?
“Look, it’s fine you spoke to someone but you should have come to me.
I am your boss, Alfie. If Dec wanted to, he could have you removed off site, then where would you be?
” He nods in agreement, but luckily, Declan is a reasonable man, and he’s had his fair share of run-ins with the coppers himself.
“Anyway,” he continues, clasping his hands together in front of him, trying to look calm. “Would you be able to write me one of them character letter… thingy’s?”
A character letter thingy? I warn myself not to laugh but judging by the look on his face, he’s bricking it.
“I’ll see what I can do.” He offers me a watery smile.
“Look,” I say, walking around the desk and patting his shoulder, “Your job’s safe.
I’ll come to the court if I’m needed and get the letter sorted for you.
” I open the door for him. “In future Alf, don’t be telling clients your shit, always come to me first.” He nods again and I shake my head.
“No, Alf, I need the words. Mate, we could all get thrown off site, it’s down to me to make sure you lot can be trusted.
” He pulls his boots back on, looking a little more like himself.
“Go finish off the wall, tidy up and then head home.”
“Thanks, boss. You’re the best.” He pulls the door closed behind him. Today, I’m the best boss.
Tomorrow, I’ll more than likely be a wanker boss again.
It’s 4pm by the time I'm loading my truck and Declan turns in.
This better be quick. He pulls up behind me, blocking me in, his way of saying you ain't leaving till we talk.
He gets out the Range Rover and leans his back against it.
“I won't keep you, mate,” he says, just as Alfie walks by and I call out to him.
“You need a lift?” He stops, turning to face me and Dec. “Nah, my stepdad’s picking me up.” He shoves his hand through his messy hair.
“Okay, mate. If you get here on time, I’ll make sure there's a breakfast cob for you tomorrow.” I say it with warning, but with a smile on my face.
“Thanks, Wes.” He waves then calls out to Dec. “See you.” Dec waves a hand in return.
“I’m guessing he’s told you about his little problem?” Dec says. “Yep, I’m sorry he bothered you with it,” I offer, hoping he doesn’t want me to remove Alf from the site, the kid needs to keep this job.
“No bother, mate. He reminds me of myself in some ways. He just needs guidance.” He’s quiet for a moment, like he’s gone back to his days of being twenty years younger.
I need to get this conversation moving if I’m having dinner with Shannon and her family.
I really don’t want to be late. This is supposed to be me making a good impression, hoping they don’t think I’m an arsehole.
“I’ve got dinner plans, if we can move this along.” He doesn’t take offence, just gets straight down to business.
“Sorry, I won't keep you.” He looks around the site. I need to stop calling it that because it’s nearly finished, just the driveway and dry-stone wall need finishing.
“We have a lot of land left over.” I nod in agreement. “You do. Why, have you decided you want a swimming pool now?” I’m only half joking because nothing would surprise me with him.
“Though that’s not a bad idea, it’s not on my list just yet,” he says, turning to face the house.
“So, what do you need done next?” I’m not in a position to turn down the work or the money.
“Okay,” he says, levelling with me. “Before I met Ashley, she had this crazy dream of moving to Cornwall and starting a smallholding.” He runs a hand through his hair.
“We both agreed that if we’re going to make us work, we needed to get away from down south.
” He waves the thought away. “Too much crap tied to our past.” I don’t ask questions, but I’ve got a feeling his line of work isn’t exactly squeaky clean.
The man gives out more bonuses in cash than I’ve ever known.
“You’ve picked the best place to start a new life.
” And I’m not even lying, he really has.
Ashbourne is a great place to live, escaping the chaos of the city for countryside living.
“The airs better for a start, less congestion,” I say, stuffing my hands into my pockets.
He has this look on his face. I know he didn’t leave London for cleaner fucking air.
“Good, because she wants to set up a glamping site.” I tap the side of my head, wondering if I heard him right. Swallowing down the boulder stuck in the back of my throat, did he just say that? Fuuuuck!
He carries on, paying no attention to my stiffening posture.
“That’s where you come in.” He sounds excited about it, and all I can do is hope to God I misheard and it’s all just some crazy coincidence.
So, I ask him again, almost afraid of his reply.
I’m nighty-nine percent sure I heard him right the first fucking time.
I kick my boot into the dirt trying to ground myself.
“Y-You want me to construct you a glamping site?” I ask again, trying to stay composed, but my palms are slick with sweat, my heart is hammering against my chest and I’m surprised he doesn’t hear it.
My mouth? Dry as fuck. He doesn’t even notice, just keeps droning on about it.
I’m half listening, half picturing Shannon’s face when she told me about it, how she lit up with joy over all the little things she wanted to do, herb garden, hot tub, BBQ area.
I don’t care what his so-called future wife wants, the woman hasn’t even agreed to marry him yet, whereas Shannon, she’s my girlfriend.
How can I be expected to hurt her before we’ve even started?
If Declan wasn’t here, I’d be throwing up.
“Yeah, she’s always wanted one. Originally, it was planned with a small holding down in Cornwall.” He shakes his head but still smiling, he’d do anything he can for this woman whether she asked him to or not. Finally, he notices the concern written all over my face.