‘Hey. Come in. Thanks for helping me again, Pete.’
‘All good. I owe you one for that dirty nappy episode in the cottage.’
Daisy hooted, ‘It’s my job. You don’t owe me anything.’
Pete grinned, looking exactly as he always did. Tanned brown legs, pink board shorts with pineapples on them, a battered white T-shirt that had seen better days, and a tool belt slung low around his hips like he’d wandered off the set of a renovation show. The mirrored sunglasses stayed on inside, Daisy knew, because he had always been part of her life. It was simply the Suntanned Pete aesthetic she knew and loved well.
Putting the toolbox down with a thud, Pete looked around. ‘Crikey, Daise. You’re really going for it. Shiysters, I’d better get my head in gear.’
‘I am. Bit by bit, I’m getting there. I’m sick of this kitchen, Pete. I swear I can see Dennis’s face in the doors. It needs some love.’ Daisy gestured to the bare wall. ‘That shelf I told you about is going up there and I found a bit of old copper piping in the attic that’s going on the bottom with hooks if you think you’d be able to help me with that.’
Pete raised his eyebrows and scratched the back of his neck. ‘Shouldn’t be a problem. Blimey, what else is up there? What, you went rooting about in the loft and came out with old plumbing supplies?’
‘Yeah, it was when I was going through Dennis’s collection of 1920s books. There are a few old pieces of copper piping up there and various bits of wood. I thought it looked nice and I need somewhere to hang my pots and pans. If I have to dig about in that drawer one more time, I’ll scream. I have visions of Nigella-style hanging pans all around me.’
‘God help us.’ Pete unzipped the side pocket of his rucksack and pulled out a couple of small packets of screws. He did the same with a load of brackets. ‘You said to bring brackets. I had loads in the shed. I’ve saved them from all over the place over the years. All of them are very solid, so they’ll hold. It’s all about the wall and the wall plugs, though.’
‘Good. The wood is solid. I found it behind the bakery. As I said in my text, someone left a whole pile of wood out by the bins. Xian was raving about it and not in a good way.’
‘Yep, I heard.’ Pete walked over and picked up a long piece of weathered timber from where it was resting on the dresser. He gave it a quick look and nodded. ‘Not bad. Bit bowed, but nothing we can’t sort. Yeah, I can see why you liked it.’ He put his bag on the floor and pulled out a tape measure. ‘You want it dead centre on that wall there?’
‘Yes, please. Not too high, though. I don’t want to need a ladder every time I want a mug.’
‘Fair.’
Pete crouched to open his toolbox, all while still wearing his sunglasses. Daisy resisted the urge to knock them off his head. ‘Nice glasses, Pete.’
‘Top-of-the-range.’
‘They’re giving me dodgy ski rep vibes.’
Pete pushed the glasses onto his head and squinted at the wall. ‘Less of the dodgy. When did you paint this? It used to be mustard, didn’t it?’
‘I whitewashed it when I first moved in, remember? I just did it to freshen it up.’
Pete ran his fingers over the wall. ‘We’ll get some decent plugs in here and it’ll hold anything short of a coffin.’ He scratched his chin, picked up the brackets and handed Daisy a pencil. ‘Right. Mark where you want it.’
Daisy stepped forward with the pencil and pointed. ‘Here and that will give me enough gap underneath for the pipe rail. That’s going here, hopefully, if you think it will work.’ Daisy held up the length of copper piping. It was old, mottled by time, which was exactly what had caught her eye and it had a good weight to it. She’d ordered the hooks that she intended to slot on top of it, online, which had arrived that morning in a jiffy bag.
‘This’ll work. Do you have plugs?’ Pete winked.
‘No idea. I thought you’d bring everything. You’re the one with the tool belt.’
Pete gave her a mock-offended look. ‘Do I look like I walk around with wall plugs in my pockets?’
‘You’ve turned up in pineapple-print board shorts and mirrored glasses. I wouldn’t rule it out.’
Pete rummaged in the toolbox. ‘Luckily for you, I came prepared.’
Daisy stood by the table, arms folded, watching as Pete made quick work of the first bracket and checked it with a spirit level. He then secured the second bracket, third and fourth brackets and gave the wall a tap with the back of his knuckles. ‘Solid as a rock. Shelf, please.’
Daisy passed him the plank of gorgeous old, timeworn timber. It had a few knocks and one corner was a little warped, but once it was in place, it looked perfect. Pete stood back and gave it a small nod. ‘Not bad at all, actually. Good vision there, Daise. I like it.’
Daisy was surprised and close to over the moon. ‘It looks great. Much better than I thought. Thanks so much.’
‘Don’t thank me yet. That copper’s going to be a sod to drill.’ Pete crouched and picked up a set of screws and eyed the pipe. ‘Where did you say you found this? Upstairs?’
‘Up in the attic room. It was behind books, a load of old blinds and what I think was a broken bed frame.’
