‘Rather than at work, where you spend several hours in the same building two days a week.’
‘Wow.’ I gave him a stern look. ‘I’ve not even let her in yet and you’re already in arse mode. Maybe spend the next hour fixing your attitude along with dessert.’
I ushered Connie and Wilf into the now sparse-looking living/games room. Wilf’s eyes widened with wonder at the games table and white board. Connie’s? Not so much.
‘It’s looking better than the last time I was here, which is about the best I can say about it.’ She slowly turned around in a circle, taking in the room in all its gaming glory.
Wilf had got a pen and a notepad out of his backpack and was intently copying down the Chimney Cup scoreboard. Thankfully, I’d remembered to take a photo of the Boys to Men contract before erasing it, so Connie didn’t get to see that Isaac had hired his own twin as a life coach.
She spent a few minutes inspecting the room more closely, making various scribbles and adjustments on a drawing pad.
‘I’d suggest we sit down and take a look, but I’m scared to sit in one of those chairs in case I accidentally press the ejector button,’ she said. ‘And that beanbag is definitely not for human beans.’
Instead, she rested the pad on the games table, flicking to the first page.
‘Connie. This is stunning!’
‘Not bad, eh?’
‘Not bad, not good, not middling. It’s perfect!’ I gasped, as she showed me four more pages, all showing different angles of the room with some close-up diagrams.
‘You must have spent hours on this. I feel like I should pay you.’
She stared at me, a look of horror on her face. ‘Okay, so were you only pretending to be my friend? Because where I come from – which happens to be the village next to you – friends don’t pay friends for favours. Besides,’ she continued, tenderly stroking a sketch of a shelving unit, ‘I loved doing it. My other plans for yesterday included scrubbing the bathroom and washing Wilf’s football kit. I should payyoufor giving me something nice to do instead.’
‘Is that how you usually spend your days off?’
She shrugged. ‘Single mum life, jam-packed with glitz, glamour and lone evenings watching crap TV.’ She stopped then, grabbing my forearm. ‘Hey – you should come over one evening. We can… watch crap TV together.’
I pressed my hand on top of hers. ‘Connie, I would love to spend an evening watching crap TV with you.’
‘Why would you want to do that?’ Wilf asked, not bothering to glance up from his notepad. ‘You could watchDroid Defendersinstead. Everyone says it’s dead good.’
‘Which would mean we’d have to sign up for the subscription package I’ve been telling you for weeks that we can’t afford, and, you get to watch the show you’ve been going on about. What an excellent plan.’ Connie’s tone made it clear she was being sarcastic.
‘Everybody wins,’ he said with a nonchalant shrug.
‘Apart from my bank balance.’ She gave Wilf a playful nudge.
‘You could always watch it here,’ I said.
‘What?’ Wilf sprang to his feet. ‘Isaac has the right channel?’
‘Are you kidding? You think these guys would miss out onDroid Defenders? Besides, they haveeverychannel.’
‘Can I, Mum?’ Wilf looked as though his head was about to pop off. ‘Can I, please? Can we ask Isaac now? I could watch it while you talk about the house with Jessie and then I won’t get in your way.’
‘Or how about an episode after dinner, while Isaac and your mum talk business?’ I suggested, before turning to Connie. ‘I don’t mind sitting with him while I get some work done.’
‘Sittingwhere?’ Connie asked. Wilf immediately scrambled onto a gaming chair.
‘I’ll bring in a chair from the kitchen.’
‘That would be amazing, thank you so much.’
‘Isn’t that what friends are for?’
We spent a few more minutes going over her ideas before I snuck into the kitchen on the pretext of fetching glasses of water.
