I know I don't spend much time in the company of women these days, other than in a work situation, but this woman is like no one else I have ever met. You don't know where you are with her from one moment to the next. She veers from being friendly and trying to get me to talk, to jumping every time I walk past her. Sometimes she gets under my feet and I just want to tell her to go away and let me get on with the job. Then she disappears and when I do need her input, I sense a kind of standoffish attitude. As if she thinks every problem is something I'm creating on purpose just to annoy her.
My mobile kicks into life and it's Pete, an old army buddy, who moved here a few years ago.
"How's it going, mate? I wondered if you were up for a festive night out with the lads?"
It's so tempting; it's been a while.
"I can't. I'm on this job and it's a tight turnaround with Christmas looming."
"Lewis, my man, we were banking on you joining the party. You sound like you need to let off a little steam."
"Yeah, well, that might be the case, but I have the client from hell. I'm not used to having the home owner around on a job that requires this much demolition and renovation. It shows what a stubborn and foolish woman she is to think she can live here without some of the most basic facilities. It's the middle of winter, for goodness' sake."
"Then walk away from it for a few hours. All work and no play, you know what they say."
"It's the morning after that wouldn't work for me, as I have to really motor on this one. I need to get it done and get out of here."
"Sounds bad. Is there something else you're not telling me? I'm guessing this is a single lady, by the sound of it. Is she coming on to you?"
"Not intentionally. She's not that sort. But take today, for instance. She boldly walked out of the shower room wearing nothing more than a stupid towel, without checking it was all clear. I had my head in the cupboard, trying to loosen a valve that was refusing to budge and as I straightened up, we collided. She almost jumped out of her skin, as if I was some sort of predator lying in wait. She knew there was a virtual stranger in the house – where's her common sense? It's hardly my fault she won't do the sensible thing and take herself off to a B and B for a week or two."
"Be careful there, mate. This is getting to you, isn't it?"
He's right and he knows that usually I'm more than capable of handling any situation, so there has to be a little more to it than I'm willing to share.
"She's not my type; too intense and difficult to read."
"I'll leave you to it, then. Maybe we'll catch up in the New Year."
"Sounds good."
I catch his laughter moments before the line disconnects. This situation is anything but funny. From what I saw today, Miss Madeleine Brooks has a great body and she's not the sort of woman who calorie-counts. She's cuddly in all of the right places, but seems to have no idea how sexy she is. I can't stand complicated women like her who over-think every little thing. They are hard work to be around and I have to watch out that I don't get caught up in anything.
When my arm touched her skin, the warmth sent a ripple of desire through me that rooted me to the spot. Then I came to my senses and realised this was a customer, and a difficult one, at that. I made an excuse and took myself off to the van for a breather while she dressed. It's the only place I feel I can sit for a quiet moment and relax. Terence was on his way out and stopped for a chat.
"You look harassed," he commented, frowning at me. "Problems?"
"Plumbing and wiring. Nothing is in the right place for the new layout and I'm not a magician. I can only do the best I can, especially with the deadline she's given me."
"Oh, sorry to hear it's like that. But then it is a big job. How, um, are you getting on with Maddie?"
This might be paranoia, but it strikes me it's a rather odd question for Terence to ask. I wonder if the delightful Miss Brooks has been talking about me.
"I'm trying to keep the social chatter to the minimum, to be honest, Terence. It's unlikely we have anything in common other than Ash Cottage. I need to get this job finished as quickly as I can and move on. I realise now I should just have said 'no', but I needed something to really get my teeth into. First Aggie and then my mother; it's a lot to get my head around at the moment. Losing people you care about leaves a hole and it's a reminder nothing lasts forever. At least redesigning the plumbing for the new kitchen layout Miss Brooks is insisting upon, requires complete concentration and all of my problem-solving skills. What she doesn't seem to understand is that while it isn't easy to move the cold supply from one wall to another, it's do-able. But it's virtually impossible to move the drainage unless you start digging up concrete floors."
That came out in a rush and Terence looks rather surprised.
"Well, keeping occupied is good, but maybe you need to explain the nature of the problems to her. If it doesn't mean very much to me, it will probably mean even less to her. I'm not being sexist, but I doubt she's ever really given it any thought."
I nod. He might have a point there. However, I’m the plumber and it’s not a part of my job to educate her. Terence means well, but she isn’t some young, naïve lady who hasn’t owned a house before. Maybe her problem is that she’s just a control freak and if that’s the case, then sorry, lady, but you’ve picked the wrong man.