‘Shouldn’t we have cut a ribbon?’ Hamza said, shivering on the pavement beside Travis in the chilly morning.
It was one of the smaller units in town, amid a row of former cottages just off the main street. Its location was its biggest attraction: central enough to attract plenty of passing trade, but slightly off the busy road.
‘Maybe I’ll do that on launch day,’ Travis replied, his heart beating a little faster as he turned the key. It was a little stiff but who cared. He had his own gallery, something he’d dreamed of for years but never thought would happen.
The key turned and he pushed at the door, but it refused to budge. ‘Probably stuck in the damp. It has been shut up for a couple of months …’
‘Need a hand?’ Hamza said, a split second before Travis shouldered the door hard and let out a scream.
‘Bloody hell!’ Hamza loomed in the doorway. ‘Are you OK?’
Travis gazed up at his friend from the tiles, having crashed through when the door had flown back on its hinges. He dusted himself off. ‘Yep. Just about. I’ll have to sort out that door though. Can’t have the customers falling into the shop.’ He squinted. Very little daylight penetrated the grimy windows on this dark winter morning.
‘I think the light switches must be in the back,’ he said, his voice echoing in the empty space. ‘Reminds me of entering those caves in Cambodia,’ Travis said, switching on his phone torch and wincing at the racket as Hamza shoved the door to behind him.
‘As long as a million bats don’t suddenly fly out, we’ll be OK,’ Hamza said.
‘You never know … It smells pretty bad.’ He wrinkled his nose and shivered. After months of standing empty, the space smelled strongly of damp and felt chillier than the street outside. ‘Hopefully the heating controls are in the back too. The details said there’s a small staff room behind the framing area with a boiler and services. Ouch!’
He stumbled and shone his torch over an empty wooden crate. ‘Be careful, mate,’ he warned. ‘There’s a lot of rubbish on the floor.’
By torchlight, they picked their way through the discarded boxes and old newspaper to the framing area which was separated from the main gallery by a low wall.
Travis shone the beam over the framing machine. That at least looked reasonably modern though covered in dust. He located the switches and the gallery was flooded with bright light.
‘Ah.’ Hamza exhaled.
‘Kinda wished I’d left it in the dark,’ Travis muttered.
The walls, long stripped of artwork, were bare and yellowing. The paint was chipped and peeling, the stone and plaster showing through in patches. The strip light trays were thick with flies.
Hamza held out his hands. ‘You could say it’s a blank canvas.’
‘That’s being generous. Damn. I hadn’t seen inside until this morning. How are we going to get it into shape in six days?’
‘With a lot of hard work,’ Hamza murmured. When even his usual positive attitude seemed to have vanished, Travis knew things must be grim. ‘I’m guessing it’s not what you expected.’
‘You guess right. The agent’s photos showed the place when it was open. Must have been taken years ago.’ He sighed. ‘It’s my fault. I should have asked Bree to come in and take a look at it properly. It’s not her fault. She hadn’t been inside for years, only peered through the window while it was still an art gallery.’
Hamza pointed to the narrow staircase in the corner. ‘What’s upstairs?’
‘Stock room, allegedly. I was hoping to turn it into a space for running post-processing workshops for clients, though God knows what’s lurking up there. I hope I haven’t bitten off more than I can chew.’
Hamza grinned. ‘I guess a journey of a thousand miles has to start with a first step.’
‘Thanks. Very reassuring.’ He heaved a sigh. ‘I guess we’d better clear out the rubbish but first, I’ll call in a local electrician to check the wiring. We don’t want the place going up in flames. We’re not going to be able to find a plasterer in time, but I’ll have to fill the walls and give it a lick of paint. I think I’m going to be here late.’
‘Why don’t we make a list and I’ll head off to the builders’ merchants for some supplies?’ Hamza offered.
‘Good idea. There’s one in Windermere. We need filler, paint, brushes, sugar soap, cleaning stuff generally. Take my pick-up and my credit card.’
‘On it.’
‘Hamza,’ Travis said. ‘Thanks. I know you said you’d come to help me but I never expected this mess. Feel free to bail out now if you need to.’
He grinned. ‘You’re welcome. What else would I be doing other than worrying about my love life? Anyway, we love a challenge. At least there are no poisonous snakes or deadly spiders.’
‘I dunno. There’s some dodgy-looking stuff in those light fittings. I … um … also think there’s a dead rat by the back door.’
‘None of it is as scary as dealing with relationships, though, is it?’ Hamza said rather sadly. ‘See ya,’ he said, leaving Travis doing star jumps on the stone floor to try and warm up.
By the time Hamza returned, Travis was hot, sweaty and stripped to his T-shirt. He’d tackled the rubbish like a demon, determined to clear the lot if it killed him. He’d flung it into the trade skips behind the shop and disposed of ‘Roland’. He’d established the boiler was working, kind of, and nipped out to buy a kettle and mugs from the hardware shop down the street.
The afternoon was spent cleaning down the walls and doing a bit of DIY filling, in preparation for painting them white. It was dark by four but Travis knew their work was only just starting. Hamza handed him a mug as he put down his mobile with a groan of frustration.
‘Can’t get an electrician for over a week. They’re all busy on existing customers’ jobs or booked up to help with the Christmas Fair. I did wonder …’
‘Keep trying tomorrow,’ Hamza said.
‘I will. The painting’s a priority now. This is going to be like one of those TV DIY challenges.’
‘Without the massive team of designers and experts offering their services for free?’
‘Yup. I guess it’s just us.’
‘Just you from tomorrow night. Don’t forget I have to set off after dinner. I’m sorry I must leave you in the lurch …’ Hamza said.
‘No, you’re not. It’s a fantastic job that no one in their right mind would turn down. We’ve already got loads done,’ he said, hating to have made his friend feel guilty. ‘And just like the TV shows, I know we’ll be ready to open on the day!’
If he didn’t sleep, if he worked all the hours and if he could persuade Bree and Seb to lend a hand, Travis thought. It would be a very late night for both of them and he had to get up at the crack of dawn to attend the traders’ association Christmas Fair breakfast meeting.
He was too busy to spare the time, really, but he also knew he’d be crazy to miss it. It would be a great chance to network with the other village businesses, find out how he could make the most of his launch day – if he made it – and besides, Freya was sure to be there.