“Look Adrian. I don’t want to put you out. I’m sure you’ve got more important things to do on a Saturday. Maybe you could call this guy, Ted, and I’ll wait—”
“Not a chance. We can’t get a signal for another half mile either way. Best I drop you there.”
When Lenny peered around into the rain, considering the offer, Adrian almost relented. Nervousness had already settled in his stomach at the thought of having Lenny Day sat next to him in his truck. Until Lenny turned and produced a genuinely grateful smile.
“That’s really kind of you.”
While Lenny climbed into the passenger seat, Adrian folded up the umbrellas and shoved them beneath his seat before clambering in.
“I’d offer you a towel to dry yourself but it’s covered in plaster dust.”
“No problem.” Lenny fixed his seatbelt in place, then dragged a clean handkerchief from his pocket and did his best to dry his hair and face. “Nice and warm in here.”
Adrian started up the engine and after a quick check, put the truck into gear. Before long, they came out the other side of the tree covering and headed towards Drayton.
“Sorry,” said Lenny. “Didn’t really get a chance to chat the other day.”
The way Adrian remembered things, Lenny hadn’t wanted to talk. Not to Adrian anyway. He liked this chatty version of Lenny much better.
“You had a lot on your plate. Funeral, and all.”
“So I didn’t get to ask what you do?” Lenny turned to have a brief glance through the small back window of the truck. “For a living?”
“Building trade. Haven’t gotten round to painting the name on the side of the truck. But I do plumbing, tiling, plastering, roofing. Pretty much the works. The only thing I’m not so hot on is electrical wiring. Can do the basics and make good on repairs, but I’m not qualified to rewire a house. Happily, I’ve been in the trade long enough to know some excellent people who can.”
“Don’t suppose you ever get involved in restoration work? Repairing heritage or listed buildings, that kind of thing?”
“Never been asked. But I’d imagine it’s more specialised than what I do. Around Norwich it’s mainly standard new builds, laying down patios, building extensions or renovating older properties, none of which you could call heritage.”
Lenny nodded his understanding, and Adrian wondered what else had been behind the question.
“At school, people used to say you were going to be the next big thing, going on to play rugby for England one day. The field boundary was packed whenever you guys were playing at home. If my memory serves me well, you had quite the following.”
Adrian kept his eyes on the road. Since school ended, he’d kept in touch with nobody, and whenever he bumped into anyone from those days, he always answered the question in exactly the same way.
“Didn’t happen. Very competitive in the real world of professional sport. Don’t think people truly realise what you’re up against out there. Plus I liked playing for the fun of it, without the pressure, didn’t want to turn it into a profession and lose the enjoyment. What I’m doing now is what I love, building things to last.”
Even though the answer wasn’t a lie, he would never tell the whole dreadful truth. But the answer seemed to stop people digging any further. Because nobody wanted to hear the real reason for him suddenly being yanked out of school and scraping a life on the streets of London.
“Have you always lived here? In Drayton?”
“No. Came back when my dad got sick. He passed away around ten years ago.”
“I’m so very sorry. We have that in common. I know he was popular in the community. Wasn’t he a church minister or something?”
Adrian did not want to talk about his father either. A mountain of a man, he had shone back then as one of the few prominent West Indian men in Drayton, a popular minister of the local Baptist church. People had come to him for everything, for guidance, support, advice and often for forgiveness, something he seemed to be able to dole out freely and generously to his congregation.
But not to his son.
“That’s him. Minister of Drayton Baptist. I thought your folks were agnostic or something.”
“Humanists. As scientists they preferred the human race to rely on critical thinking, together with rational and empirical evidence, rather than to follow organised religion, which they say is based on fairy stories and superstition. Even so, I still managed to get them to put up a Christmas tree each year. A small one, of course. My mother used to roll her eyes, but she could see how much the decorations meant to me.”
“And the presents?”
“Especially the presents.” Lenny had a nice laugh.
“How did you know about my dad, then?”
