Meanwhile Gardens (15 page)

“Excuse me?” Ollie closed his eyes for a second, making sure to brand the image on his brain. If all else failed he would at least have this picture on file to provide happy moments on otherwise dull days.

“The sides,” the man gestured dangerously close to Ollie’s body, “need extra attention don’t they?”

Ollie decided to play along. “They sure do.”

“Can I park my van here for a couple of hours?” the man flashed a dazzling smile at Ollie. “I’m doing some work on Golborne Road and they’ve started clamping. It’ll just be for
an hour or two until,” he looked at his watch, “four at the latest.”

Ollie knew Auntie Em’s policy about strangers parking in the mews but desperate times called for desperate measures.

“Well,” he didn’t want to appear too eager but it was difficult not to, “if you park outside my house,” Ollie gestured to the yellow door behind him – was that too keen? “it’ll be ok. Just this once though,” he said, smiling to make sure that wasn’t necessarily the case.

The man quickly returned with a pick-up that rattled into the mews and parked outside Ollie’s.

“I’ll be back at four,” the man said dazzling Ollie with another smile. “I owe you one mate.”

Wayne nearly jumped when he saw himself reflected in the pick-up’s side mirror. He still hadn’t got used to the blond hair nor the extreme tan. Putting phase two of the plan into action Wayne sauntered out of the mews whistling the theme tune to
Bewitched
.

“I can’t believe you let him do that.”

Ollie turned to see Nicky coming out of her door opposite. In one hand she carried a metallic case filled with photographic accessories, in the other her crash helmet.

“Did you see – ” stuck for words Ollie gesticulated with his hands, “ – that?”

“You wouldn’t have let him park there if he was ugly.” Before Ollie could protest Nicky held up her hand, “You wouldn’t have done,” she said firmly.

“I have an ulterior motive.”

Nicky rolled her eyes.

“It’s that builder fantasy isn’t it Ol? The one where they wear nothing but a hard hat and a belt full of spanners and you talk about equipment and erections and – ”

“No!” he said mustering as much indignance as he dared, “that’s the scaffolder’s one anyway. If you must know Auntie Em asked me to check out lA, see if any work needs doing.”

“And you think he might do the business so to speak?”

“That would be up to Auntie Em, but it would be tempting fate not to find out. ‘See a builder pick him up and all day long you’ll have good luck,’” Ollie recited.

Nicky slotted the case into one of the panniers of her black Honda 550, pulled her helmet on and straddled the bike, “I can’t believe you have a rhyme for that.” She started the powerful machine, clicked down the visor and eased her way out of the mews.

The hunk was as good as his word. On almost the dot of four he ambled down the mews. Ollie immediately phoned Auntie Em.

“He’s here.”

“I can see that sweetness.”

Ollie looked out to see Auntie Em, phone in hand, at her sitting room window.

“And this has nothing to do with the way he looks?”

Ollie knew he’d be fooling no one, least of all Auntie Em, if he protested.

“We do need someone.”

“I’ll be there in a sec angel.”

Ollie clicked off the phone. Going outside he found the man hovering about as if waiting to see him. Waiting to see him! This was getting better and better.

“You couldn’t have a look at something for us could you?” Ollie blushed slightly at how the question could be construed. Behind the man Ollie could see Auntie Em approaching from her end of the mews.

“I’d be happy to,” the man winked at Ollie leaving him
slightly breathless. What does a wink mean again? He must ask Nicky.

“There’s a property at the end that’s been empty for ages and could do with some attention,” Ollie again struggled against the unintended double entendre which had, he half-hoped, gone unnoticed. He had taken a quick look at lA earlier on. Apart from having pigeons, both alive and dead, and some plastering that needed redoing, the house had weathered its neglect pretty well.

With relief he saw that Auntie Em was now beside them. “This is the owner, Ms Nelson.”

The man turned to Auntie Em and shook her hand with just enough strength to show he meant business but without crushing her.

“Wayne Watson.”

He then turned smiling to Ollie, “We haven’t met.”

As Ollie took the outstretched hand he felt a shiver followed by a spasm to the groin. The builder’s hand had a rough firmness to it and Ollie was sure he felt Wayne’s middle finger graze the soft underside of his wrist. He couldn’t believe people still did that, it seemed so seventies, so closeted.

But it felt surprisingly sexy.

“I’m Ollie.”

Lost for words he looked at Auntie Em who took charge.

“Follow me Mr Watson.”

Entering the house at the top of the mews, they moved through the narrow hallway where a child’s toy gathered dust in the corner.

“How long since it’s been inhabited?” Wayne asked as they filed up the stairs.

“Well, the old stabling part downstairs was used for
storage by some market traders but not for at least three years,” Auntie Em explained. “They used to wake people up at five in the morning and so had to go.”

“I can never understand how people can be so cheerful at such an hour,” Ollie said.

“Unless you haven’t been to bed,” Wayne remarked.

Ollie wondered if he was the only one who noticed how Wayne stressed the final word.

Coming to the top of the small flight of stairs they stepped into the large sitting room that made up most of the living area. 1A had the same layout as the other houses in the mews, except for Gem ‘n Em’s larger C-shaped house at the end.

As in the others a kitchen opened off the large central space. On each side of the kitchen, large enough for a stove, fridge and small table, was a door leading to a small bedroom. At the top of the stairs an opening led to a bathroom that contained a sink and an old, rather battered, claw-footed bath.

Wayne looked around. He immediately spotted the hole in the corner of the high ceiling where the pigeons came in and sometimes, judging by at least two feathered skeletons, failed to leave.

As he peered into the two small bedrooms on either side of the kitchen Auntie Em whispered to Ollie, “I bet he knocks on the wall.” As if on cue they heard a series of taps. Auntie Em rolled her eyes, “Cowboy!” she hissed, unaware of Candida’s recent expense in Covent Garden.

“Give him a chance Auntie Em.”

Wayne moved quickly through the sitting room to the tiny bathroom.

“Where are you working now Mr Watson?”

Wayne had already prepared the answer to this inevitable
question. “Just round the corner on Portobello. D’ye know the old greasy spoon opposite the florist?” he returned to the large central space.

Auntie Em and Ollie nodded.

“Well it’s being refurbished, all bleached beech and bare brick – there’s alot of that round here isn’t there?”

“It’s a bit far to park your van isn’t it?” Auntie Em asked.

“When the clampers are out it’s any port in a storm I’m afraid Ms Nelson.” Wayne gave the room another once-over, “The only major thing is the damp in the bathroom ceiling which’ll need to be proofed and replastered. Apart from that, and the loose tiles which shouldn’t be a problem, everything is pretty much surface stuff – nothing a good clean and a couple of coats of paint wouldn’t put right.”

Ollie looked pleadingly at Auntie Em.

“Should take ten days/two weeks maximum.”

Auntie Em moved down the stairs followed by the two young men. She strolled in thought to Wayne’s blue pick-up, “Give us some references and a written quotation Mr Watson, in the meantime why don’t you two – ” unseen by Wayne she winked at Ollie, “ – exchange numbers.”

Wayne slung himself into the driver’s seat of the pick-up and rooted around in the glove compartment. “I’m fairly sure I gave out my last card yesterday,” Wayne scribbled his number on a scrap of paper.

“I haven’t even got one,” Ollie said apologetically.

Wayne smiled as he handed over the scrap of paper, “You’ll have to phone me then won’t you?”

Ollie was sure his gulp must have been audible.

“Where do you live Mr Watson?” Auntie Em continued her questioning.

“Dagenham.”

“And you’d travel in every day?”

“If I got the job I’d try and find somewhere local to overnight in.”

Ollie could feel Wayne’s eyes burning into him.

Wayne slammed the driver’s door shut. A quick wave and he reversed slowly out of the mews.

“Well at least he didn’t whistle through his teeth.” Auntie Em turned to Ollie, “Let me know what his quote is but I’m not going above seven fifty. That’s final.”

Auntie Em was nearly at her front door when Ollie called down the mews. “Thanks for getting his number for me.”

“I’d watch him, angel. Those Dagenham boys – they’re at least three stops past Barking.”

Ollie waited three days before calling. When he did he made sure to have Auntie Em next to him.

The phone was answered on the third ring.

“Wayne? It’s Ollie here from – ”

Wayne cut him off, “Hi mate! I thought you’d found someone else for the job.”

Ollie was pleasantly taken aback at the warmth of the greeting.

“I was going to stop in but I’ve been on the other side of town,” the builder continued.

So that explains why he hadn’t seen the pick-up, Ollie thought. He had wandered past the restaurant site several times a day for the past few days hoping to bump into Wayne, but hadn’t seen hide nor hair of the builder.

“I could do the job for seven hundred and fortyfive all in.”

“One second,” Ollie put his hand over the mouthpiece and looked at Auntie Em. “Seven forty five?”

Auntie Em returned his look with more than a hint of suspicion, “You didn’t tell him he couldn’t go above seven fifty did you sweetness?”

“No!” Ollie grinned. “I thought about it though.”

“Well, if he’s useless we’ll know soon enough. When can he start?”

Ollie uncovered the mouthpiece. “When can you start Wayne?” he tried to keep from sounding overenthusiastic.

“Monday alright for you?”

“Monday?” Ollie mouthed to Auntie Em who grimaced her consent.

“Monday it is then,” Ollie, smiling, clicked off the phone.

Auntie Em sighed, “There’s something about him....”

“Isn’t there just?”

“I know lust is blind, angel, but I can’t quite put my finger on it,” Auntie Em shook her head. “It’s probably nothing,” she muttered, but something was definitely troubling her about the builder.

Wayne yawned, stretched and got out of bed. He could get used to these jobs and this one was turning out a treat. Candida Hapshill was paying him for information on, and the possible retrieval of, some stupid painting AND he was going to be paid for doing a glorified cleaning job.

He looked at himself admiringly in the full-length mirror and smiled, “You’re a genius Wayne Watson, there’s no doubt about it.”

T
oday was the first day that Rion was officially allowed out of the house. And she was going to take full advantage of it. In what she hoped would become a regular habit Rion collected Hum from Ollie and walked Auntie Gem along the canal to work. She breathed in lungfuls of air, happy that the painful wheeze had finally gone.

They had just passed Ha’penny Bridge when Rion saw the first one.

“What’s that Auntie Gem?” Rion pointed to something floating amongst the rushes.

Auntie Gem moved closer to the canal bank. Squinting past the cans and burger cartons in the reeds she saw a greyish/black object bobbing in the water. “It’s a pipe, child, rubber tubing or whatnot.”

Rion moved closer but pulled back suddenly when Auntie Gem’s rubber tubing turned belly up to reveal a white-scaled underside.

“Ugh!” Rion could see that, apart from having scales, the object had the ugliest of faces.

Auntie Gem could now see the thing for what it was. “It’s an eel,” she chuckled. “One of the fisherman probably caught it and threw it back.”

“What a waste!” Rion said disgusted both by the loss of
life and by the eel’s countenance which was one of the most hideous things she had ever seen.

“A heron’ll get it, or a gull. Someone will have it for supper don’t you worry!”

Rion noticed several other dead fish on their way up to the bridge at the top of Ladbroke Grove but didn’t mention it to Auntie Gem who was rattling on about her childhood in Jamaica.

Arm in arm they walked past Canalside House where Hum, in one of his favourite tricks, ran down the gentle slope to scatter the pigeons being fed outside Sainsburys. The dog carried on to harass the swans and geese who hissed and spat at his impudence.

“He’d better go on the lead, child,” Auntie Gem advised. “All the young are out once we’re over Cardiac Arrest.”

“Cardiac Arrest?”

Auntie Gem gestured to the end of the walkway where a sharply rising humpback bridge spanned the entrance to a lock. “That’s what I call it anyway.”

With the chunky old Nokia Ollie had given Rion feeling secure, but heavy, in her pocket, they huffed and puffed over Cardiac Arrest and were soon on the green of the towpath once more. Auntie Gem was right. On this section proud pairs of ducks and moorhens swam with their tiny, fluffy offspring. Further on two geese shared duties over a creche of at least a dozen goslings.

Auntie Gem and Rion watched as the baby geese, heads down, tugged and pulled at the grass on the towpath. In a sudden burst Hum tugged out of Rion’s grasp and raced for the birds.

“Hum!” Rion turned to Auntie Gem in anguish, “The poor birds what’ll – ”

“It’s not the birds I’d be worried about, child.”

They watched as the young dog, grinning from ear to ear, raced for the birds.

Upon seeing Hum the two creche-keeping geese reared up in the water. At their honk of alarm their charges scurried for the canal. All except one who continued to tug at the grass. With the lead flying Isadora Duncan style behind him, the dog charged at the unfortunate gosling that kept feeding unawares.