Frankie was washing the pots in the sink while keeping an eye on Devilchild, who was whacking the heads off his mum’s flowers, when her phone rang. The name on the screen surprised her. It was her builder, Henri, calling. Presuming it was to give her an update on the kitchen fitting she dried her hands quickly, grabbed her phone and wandered into the lounge as she answered.
Five minutes later she was still sat on her sofa, staring at a blank phone screen, wondering what the hell to do next. The flat was claustrophobic and she was fed up of hearing bad news. The urge to get outside and see Jed suddenly overwhelmed her. Slipping on her sandals, Frankie grabbed her bag and car keys and headed downstairs. As she made her way up the path, she spotted Devilchild’s plastic sword on the path. The family car was missing so seizing the moment, she glanced up at the side window – nobody there – then picked up the toy and with the strength of a Marvel superhero, she hurled it towards the trees that bordered the back gardens. Frankie smiled as she watched it flip through the air, chuckling when it landed on the top of the brand-new gazebo, well out of sight.That’ll teach the horrible little monster.
* * *
When she pulled into Ken’s builder’s yard Frankie was at first pleased to see Old Smoky parked up. Then an attack of nerves caused her to think twice about her visit. She’d never just turned up like this and worried that Jed might be put out by her unscheduled appearance. It was too late to turn around, though, because Spud, wandering aimlessly across the yard with his baggy jeans hanging around his bum cheeks, flashing off his stripy boxer shorts, had spotted her.
Ten minutes later, what she had intended to be a quiet discussion with Jed about her woes, had turned into a family conference around the kitchen table. Jenny, Jed’s mum, was fussing, doling out Mr Kipling cakes and replenishing the biscuit tin while Frankie explained her predicament. Spud focused on dipping his digestives in his tea, never taking his eyes off his phone.
‘So there’s quite a lot to do. All the wiring has been done but there’s still a bit of plastering to do and the kitchen units need building up and fitting, the cooker installing and then the floor laying. After that Henri was going to make a start on the fencing around the garden but that’s not urgent.’
Jenny spoke next. ‘It sounds like he’s in a bad way, your builder. Fancy falling off his own roof, eh? Poor bugger.’
‘I know. He’s been in hospital for a week. He was unconscious and suffered severe concussion, a broken leg, arm and collarbone and he’s hurt his back, too. I bet he looks a right state. His wife was out of her mind with worry and according to Henri, guilt-ridden because she’d nagged him to fix the roof, then he fell. She didn’t even think to ring me; and his apprentice took off to the seaside once he knew that work had been cancelled.’
Jed was peeling the foil off his jam tart while he spoke. ‘And how long will Henri be out of action? Does he know anyone else who can help you out?’
Frankie shook her head. ‘Months, I reckon, and there’s not a cat in hell’s chance I’ll find another builder, not one I trust anyway. I’ve heard some right horror stories. Henri told me they’ll all be winding down and ready for their fortnight holiday. Most of France goes away in August so it looks like I’ll just have to wait for Henri to get better.’
A hush settled on the table while everyone dipped, slurped or crackled biscuit wrappers. It was Ken who asked the question that was on Frankie’s lips.
‘So what are you going to do? Postpone your plans?’
Frankie knew the answer to this immediately. ‘No, I’ll definitely have to go. I need to pick the puppies up and I’ve ordered furniture. My head is all over the place but I reckon I can manage for a while. There’s water and the bathrooms are done. Maybe I could buy a camping stove and use that.’
Ken’s expression told Frankie he thought this was a good idea whereas Jenny had a better one. ‘It’s a shame you can’t do the work for her, love. And I bet our Jed would like to go over and give Frankie a hand, wouldn’t you, son?’
At this Frankie felt her cheeks redden, and the snigger from Spud didn’t help either. When Jed said nothing and looked from her to his dad, she wanted the ground to open up. ‘Oh, I couldn’t expect you to do that. It’s a bit of a way and I wasn’t hinting either. I’ll work something out when I get there.’
Jenny was having none of it. ‘Course you weren’t, love, but this lot are a bit gormless and we all know I’m the brains of the business, aren’t I, lads?’
‘Yes, love, Deborah Meaden’s got nothing on you. In fact, we’re always saying you’re our very own Dragon, in’t that right, Jed?’ Ken rolled his eyes at his son and then winked at Frankie.
While Jenny flicked her husband with the tea towel, Jed finally found his tongue. ‘Actually, Mum, that’s not a bad idea. I was going over to see Frankie anyway for a holiday but maybe we could go earlier, once we’ve finished this job we’re on. What do you reckon, Dad? Mates rates, too.’
Before Ken could answer Frankie butted in, her heart racing, a million thoughts zapping. ‘Do you think you could do it, Ken? I’d be so grateful and I’ll cover all the costs of the ferry and there’s plenty of room at the house for you to stay while you do the work. And no mates rates either: I’d want to pay full price.’
Poor Ken opened his mouth to speak but Jenny had already grabbed the diary from by the phone and was looking through. ‘Oh no, bit of a problem… you were supposed to be flagging our Beryl’s drive next, but I can easily put her off. I know, I’ll take her to the caravan while you’re in France doing Frankie’s house up. We can have a nice sisterly break, I’ll give her a ring in a bit and sort it out.’
All eyes then turned to Ken who even though he was hen-pecked and backed into a corner, clearly had the final say. First, he took a gulp of his tea, then scratched his stubbly chin, looked upwards as if calculating and pondering, then heaved an exasperated sigh.
‘We’ll be four or five weeks finishing the jobs we’ve got on, then we’re all yours. I reckon it’ll take best part of a week to do your kitchen if we get our fingers out. Twenty per cent discount as long as you feed us plenty of French nosh while we’re there. Deal?’ Ken held out his hand.
Frankie thought she would burst with happiness, excitement and relief and immediately shook Ken’s hand. ‘Deal.’
Jed and Jenny clapped their hands and said ‘yes’ in unison.
Spud said, ‘Sweet, never been to France before,’ as he scooped soggy biscuit out of his tea with a spoon.
Ken wore the amused look of a man well used to defeat, but happy with it.
* * *
Later, as Jed and Frankie relaxed in his loft, both had questions that needed answers. She wanted a list of all the food Ken liked, so was going to ask Jenny.
Jed wanted to make sure she was okay roughing it till they got there. And there was something else. ‘Look, I know we’ve solved your kitchen dilemma but promise me you really are okay with us all coming over. Mum can be a bit full-on sometimes and worse when she gets an idea into her head, like a sneaky jolly to Southport with Aunty Beryl.’
Frankie thought Jenny really was the brains of the outfit and took being the butt of jokes exceptionally well. ‘I swear, I am deliriously happy because I get to see you in your shorts and no T-shirt sooner than expected. And I also know it will stop Henri from feeling guilty about letting me down, even though he’s kind of lost a job. So stop worrying: it’s going to be lovely having you there.’
