It Started With A Tweet(34)

He walks around the kitchen, having decided he is staying no matter how hard Rosie tries to convince him otherwise.

‘So, this is the ’ouse,’ he says, looking around and nodding in approval. ‘It is run down but looks OK.’

He’s knocking on the walls and rubbing his hand along the parts Rosie’s already had plastered.

‘Can I look around? Let me see the work I will be making?’

‘Sure,’ says Rosie, ‘go ahead.’

He walks into the lounge and I sidle up to her.

‘Well, this is interesting,’ I whisper, my eyes wild at the unexpected turn of events. ‘At least now I won’t be scared at night any more, or if I am, I sure know where I can take refuge.’

‘There’ll be no funny business under my roof, thank you very much. Especially as we’ve got no doors. Oh God,’ she says, clapping her hand over her mouth. ‘We’ve got no doors on any of the bedrooms. I was going to get a carpenter in to hang them before she, I mean he, arrived.’

‘I’m sure that he won’t mind, he doesn’t seem to be the shy, foreboding type,’ I say staring at his bum in his tight jeans as he pokes his head up the fireplace to check out the chimney.

‘I can’t believe he’s a he,’ she says shaking her head.

I don’t understand what the big deal is. If anything, I think it’s a comfort he’s a man. As much as it grates on my feminist ideals to admit it, the fact that he’s going to be sleeping here makes me feel that little bit safer. ‘Surely that doesn’t matter?’ I say, still thinking that it’s an unexpected bonus.

‘I specifically wanted a woman,’ she says shaking her head. ‘Don’t forget I hadn’t planned to have you come here with me, I thought that I was going to be here on my own. If I’m really honest, the help-exchange was as much about keeping me company as doing work on the house. I thought I’d get a bit lonely rattling round here on my own.’

‘Well, that’s OK. Now you’ll have me and Alexis.’

‘But what about when you go? It’ll just be me and him.’

‘And what’s wrong with that?’

‘I’m a married woman,’ says Rosie, almost a little too loudly, and we both snap our heads round to check that Alexis hasn’t heard.

‘So what? It’s not 1950 anymore, I don’t think anyone will care.’

‘You don’t think Liz and Gerry will mention it?’

Point taken. I forgot that people up here probably take a bit more interest in that kind of thing.

‘But to be honest, I don’t care what everyone else thinks, I care what Rupert will think. I mean we’re barely on speaking terms as it is. What’s he going to say when he finds out that I’m up here on a secluded farm with a Frenchman?’

‘A sexy Frenchman. Sexy Alexis,’ I say, making sure I pronounce his name like he does.

I get the death stare again.

‘And no doors on the bedrooms,’ I add helpfully.

Rosie sighs.

‘Thank you for reminding me. My marriage is already on choppy water, I don’t want it hitting the rocks over this.’

‘Just don’t mention it to him. It’s not like you’re able to talk to him at the moment, anyway – I mean you don’t have your phone.’

‘No .?.?. but I’m going to have to use the payphone in the village sometimes. Alexis is supposed to be staying for a month, and maybe it will be longer – you saw what he’s like, changing his plans. I can’t not mention a help-ex being here all that time. And what if he comes to visit? I’ve asked him to come several times, what if he takes me up on the offer?’

‘Then cross that bridge when you come to it. Besides, I’m here now, and I’m quite happy to take any hits for the team if it makes it look better in your husband’s eyes.’

‘Down, girl. There’ll be no need for that. If he’s staying here he’s working on the house, not on you. You are supposed to be concentrating on your digital detox and finding yourself, not some Frenchman.’

I pout a little, but she’s right. I think perhaps having zero personal life over the last couple of months has turned me into the desperate version of myself I usually reserve for when a slow song comes on at a wedding and I’ve drunk copious amounts of wine. I’ve got to remember the fact that Marvellous Marcus and his quick reminders were beginning to seem attractive to me last week.

‘Besides, remember he said he had a girlfriend? The one in the photo.’

‘Ah yes, how could we forget Alexis,’ I say using Rosie’s original pronunciation.

Rosie punches me playfully on the arm and I push her back, but before it can escalate, Alexis walks up to us.

‘I go upstairs,’ he says, more of a statement than question.

‘OK,’ says Rosie, ‘but remember it’s a bit of a work in progress,’ she calls up the stairs, but we can already hear him stomping across the floorboards above us.

‘You might need some insulation between the floors,’ I say helpfully.

‘Another thing to add to the list.’

Poor Rosie. This afternoon she’d almost come alive talking about her plans for this place and yet now she looks down in the dumps.

‘I can’t believe I’m about to say this,’ I say, ‘but I’ll stay as long as Alexis does. That way it won’t be awkward for you and Rupert.’