The house was empty of people and furniture. There was no evidence of any renovations or building work having started at all. Matilda stood in the hallway and looked around. With hands on her hips and a heavy frown on her face, she was decidedly unhappy.
‘What are you doing in here?’ James asked coming down the stairs carrying Matilda’s red suitcase.
‘I’m sorry?’
‘I said what are you doing in here?’
‘Sorry, I can’t hear you over the sound of drilling and walls being knocked down,’ Matilda replied with a thick layer of sarcasm.
James smiled and shook his head. ‘Matilda, you don’t just come in on day one and start tearing walls down.’
‘It looks like day one consisted of putting the kettle on and discussing the weekend football results.’
‘Day one is all about stripping the house back, getting everything prepared, turning off the gas supply. That’s what’s happened today,’ James said, placing the heavy suitcase at the bottom of the stairs.
‘What about day two?’ Matilda asked, looking dejected.
‘Perhaps it would be best if you didn’t come into the house every day. You’re not going to see a great deal of progress straight away.’
‘I love this house, James. Promise me you won’t do anything too … drastic.’
‘You’ve seen the plans and the artist impressions. You know what the final result will be.’
‘I know you, too. You get an idea in your head and you just go with it. I don’t want to come in and find you’ve decided to replace the staircase with a water slide or something.’
James laughed. ‘Come on, let’s go. I’ve made you a very romantic meal in the caravan and you can tell me all about your day.’ He placed a strong arm around her shoulders and led her out of the back door, down the steps to the garden and the slanting caravan.
The romantic meal was fish and chips from the local takeaway by candle light at the foldaway Formica table. The wine was warm, the chips were soggy and they ate from one plate as there wasn’t enough room for two.
‘We’re not going to eat like this every night. Also, once the Winnebago arrives, we’ll have more space,’ James said, optimistic as ever.
‘Adele has invited us to her house for a meal one night this week.’
‘Excellent. That’ll be nice. How is Adele?’
‘She’s ok. I think she’s a bit lonely. Chris is out more with his new college friends and then there’s university. She’s realizing how much she’s given up to bring Chris up on her own and now he’s getting on with his own life, she doesn’t have anyone.’
‘She’s got us.’
‘It isn’t the same though, is it?’
‘No. Well, we’ll have her over here more and I know loads of people I can introduce her to,’ James said. ‘There’s Fat Stan at the builder’s yard. He’s single now.’
‘I don’t think Adele would like to go out with a bloke known as Fat Stan.’
‘All right. What about Dodgy Darren?’
‘Do I want to know why he’s dodgy?’
‘Probably not. Actually, now I come to think of it, he’s back inside.’
‘Perhaps matchmaking isn’t your strong point, James. Stick to being an architect.’
‘Award-winning architect, if you don’t mind.’
‘You feel tense, anything worrying you?’
James was sat up on the bed with Matilda in front of him. While a repeat of The Simpsons played out on a poor-quality portable television, James massaged his wife’s stiff shoulders.
‘Not really.’ Where do I begin? She groaned with pleasure at the strength in his firm grip. ‘A man was found dead in his flat this morning at Hallam Grange. He used to be famous.’
‘Used to be?’
‘Yes. He was on Emmerdale in the eighties.’
‘What happened to him?’
‘Fractured skull. His career ended years ago. He wasn’t looking after himself, drinking, smoking, bad diet. It was sad.’
‘Some people find it difficult to adjust to a new life,’ James said as he kneaded her shoulders harder.
‘Do you ever think about the future? Where we’ll be in thirty or forty years’ time?’
‘Well, I don’t look that far ahead, but of course I think about the future.’
‘What do you see for us?’
‘Oh I won’t be with you. We’ll have divorced and gone our separate ways by the time I’m fifty,’ he said with a smile in his voice. Matilda elbowed him in the stomach. ‘Only joking,’ he kissed the top of her head and placed his arms around her, holding her in a tight embrace. ‘I picture us living in our dream house, maybe not this one. I see us being happy, getting a dog or two. Perhaps even retiring abroad.’
‘I like the sound of that.’
‘Where do you see us in thirty years?’
‘Probably still in this pissing caravan.’