Al the builder:
Very low-slung jeans (Lee)
Grey T-shirt (Asda)
Boots (DeWalt)
Hard hat (DeWalt)
Total est. cost: £165
‘The magic touch, mate.’
‘You’re not having a good day, are you, mate?’ was Al’s verdict as he came in through the front door to find Ed holding two crying babies.
‘No, not exactly,’ Ed replied unusually irritably. The fact that Al was about six hours late because of some ‘errands’ he’d had to run and ‘materials’ he’d had to collect wasn’t exactly improving his mood.
‘Here, give us a baby,’ Al offered cheerfully.
Ed looked at Al. His grey T-shirt was completely encrusted with dirt, dust, chunks of plaster and blobs of paint. He really didn’t want to hand Al a baby because it would just give Ed another mess to clean up later. But it seemed rude to say no now that Al had asked directly.
‘There, there, there,’ Al soothed as Max was handed over to him, ‘what’s all the fuss about? What’s all this noise for?’
Maybe because he was so surprised to be in the arms of a total stranger, Max stopped crying immediately.
‘The magic touch, mate,’ Al said, beaming at Ed, ‘haven’t lost it, even though mine are teenagers now. The magic touch.’
Now Ed had an overwhelming urge to punch him. But instead, he carried on scouring the hallway for the twins’ beakers which seemed to have vanished into thin air although they were urgently required.
‘Minnie, please shush,’ he said sharply, which had no effect on the wailing at all.
What was the matter with him? He never used to be like this. He used to have all the time, patience and understanding in the world for children. Wasn’t it just ironic that now Ed finally had his own children, the children he’d so longed for, so twisted Annie’s arm to have, he’d turned into the kind of grumpy, short-tempered, harassed parent he’d always disapproved of in the past?
‘So… putting in the new shower,’ Al began. ‘Think we’re going to get started on that today.’
‘Al, where are the kitchen windows?’ he began firmly over the din of Minnie’s wails.
Al shrugged, sucked his teeth and then let out a long sigh.
‘We are really, really missing the kitchen, Al. I’ve got two babies to look after; I need the kitchen back.’
It wasn’t as if Al hadn’t heard the kitchen speech before. He’d heard it many times. Each time it got increasingly desperate.
‘Well, those windows, mate,’ he said with another deep sigh, ‘what on earth you were doing ordering windows from Sweden, mate? You should have let me sort them out, I’d have had them here weeks ago. Your supplier keeps telling me that there’s this delay and that delay, I’ve never seen anything like it.’
Al stopped there, not offering any solution or further suggestion.
‘Do you want me to phone them?’ Ed asked.
Al shook his head. ‘Don’t think that will help.’
‘Do you want me to cancel the order and let you order new windows?’
‘Well, I’ve made the hole too big now… extra big for your Swedish windows. If I order something in now, we’re going to be rebuilding that wall around ’em.’
‘Well, what are we going to do?’
Another shrug from Al. ‘We’ll just have to wait.’
‘So, when will the shower be ready?’ There was a definite trace of pleading in Ed’s voice now.
The ‘family’ bathroom currently had a toilet and a sink part-connected. The shower was a jangle of pipe ends protruding from a wall of jagged plaster and broken tiles. An ominous dark hole in the floor, which whiffed, marked the spot where once there had been a drain.
Yes, there was another bathroom, but it only contained an old, small bath, which – now that Owen, Lauren, the babies and Ed all had to use it – wasn’t the cleanest or most relaxing tub in the world.
Ed had no idea when he’d last washed his hair. He missed the shower. He needed that shower.
‘Shower? End of the week,’ Al announced brightly, as if this was great news.
‘End of the week!’ Ed repeated, horrified. Risking leaving Max in Al’s grubby arms, Ed turned away and went in search of the house phone, or his mobile, or any sort of method of telephonic communication at all.
After a search, he managed to unearth his mobile, but the battery was dead. A thorough search of three rooms later and he finally located the home cordless phone; it beeped with low battery too because, as usual, it hadn’t been returned to its base once in the hours since Lauren or Owen, or possibly one of their countless visiting friends, had last used it.
Nevertheless, he punched in Annie’s mobile number and then listened to the continental ring tone on the line reminding him how far away she was.
‘Ed?’ Annie answered and immediately sounded anxious. ‘Is everyone OK?’
‘Yeah… well, slightly better than this morning,’ he grumbled, ‘I think it’s a virus, they’re just so unsettled.’
‘Have you given them anything?’
‘They’re up to their ears in Calpol,’ Ed confided, ‘any more would be an overdose.’
‘OK. Babes, unless it’s really urgent, I have to go. This is a difficult time,’ Annie told him, which was putting it mildly.
‘Annie, I need a shower! I need it today, or at the very latest tomorrow. I’m about to tell Al this in very clear terms. What is the risk that he will run away and leave us in it?’
‘Low to medium, babes... good luck.’