It Started With A Tweet(46)

True to her word, Rosie got Alexis to whip up a shower cubicle outside. I think she thought putting it in the barn would provide an element of privacy. Only, with the light flooding in from the holes in the roof and the use of a white shower curtain, I’m pretty sure that there would be some naked shadow puppetry going on.

I’ve been putting it off, but I’m slightly conscious that the three of us are working in such close proximity, and both Alexis and Rosie have braved the cubicle, so if I don’t go soon, they’re going to realise that the funky smell in here has nothing to do with the old toilet.

The only thing I’m glad of right now is that Rosie didn’t get Alexis to whip up a toilet too. Instead, she’s ordered a Portaloo, saying that it will be useful for when contractors are on site anyway, as when the bathroom is all finished, she’s not going to want any muddy boots ruining it again.

So far, the project itself is going well. I’ve covered a wall of the sitting room in Post-it notes with all the work that needs to be done. Not only does the room require a much-needed boost of colour, but it also meticulously plots the path of outstanding work. Rosie went to the village and stood in the phone box for over an hour making phone calls to various builders, and we now have the next few weeks planned solidly.

As for the three of us living and working together, so far we are getting on quite well. But I think that’s mainly because Alexis can only understand what we say if he concentrates, and the rest of the time he seems to zone out. I can’t say I blame him. To make conversation, Rosie’s been filling me in on the last few years of EastEnders episodes that I’ve missed. To give Alexis credit, he did try to stay with the plot lines, saying that it helped with his English, but then Rosie told me that Kathy came back from the dead and we lost him. Since I’m now fully up to date, things have gone pretty quiet and we’re struggling to find a replacement topic.

‘Finished,’ says Alexis, doing a fist pump as he pulls the last tile off the wall.

‘Blimey,’ I say, taking a step back and admiring his handiwork.

The smashed avocado tiles litter the floor as he stands in the cast-iron bath that’s covered in a towel. Rosie didn’t want to make it any worse before the restorer comes to recoat the enamel next week.

It’s hard to say it looks great, as now the wall’s bumpy and uneven, but it looks a whole lot better now that it doesn’t look as if someone’s thrown up on it after a heavy night of tequila.

‘All I’ve got to do now is sand it off,’ she says, ‘and then I can start tiling again tomorrow. Great work, Alexis. Why don’t you take the rest of the afternoon off?’

‘Thanks, I go for a walk up the hill. Daisy, you like to come too?’

‘No, thank you,’ I say, thinking back to my last walk and how badly that ended. I promised myself I wouldn’t try that again until I was properly kitted out.

‘You should have gone with him,’ says Rosie as he leaves. ‘It’s probably easier if you’re out of the way when I sand the plaster back. It’s going to get really dusty.’

‘Nah, I really should take a shower, and if he’s out, I’ll probably feel a little bit more comfortable in the barn.’

‘It’s really not that bad. I mean, he’s put some Perspex on the top of it so that the pigeons can’t poop on you while you’re in there.’

‘You’re really selling it to me.’

I blow a bit of sweaty hair away from my face as I finish off the bit of wall I’m working on. I step back, feeling proud at my handiwork. I’m probably going to feel more exhausted than proud by the time I’ve stripped the wallpaper off all four bedrooms too, but for the moment I’m feeling accomplished.

‘It’s a good feeling, isn’t it?’ says Rosie, raising an eyebrow. ‘If I’m honest, I find it quite addictive.’

‘I can see that. It’s nice to actually make an immediate difference to something.’

‘That’s it exactly,’ she says, nodding so enthusiastically that she chips out part of the wall as she scrapes a bit of paper. ‘I think that’s why I couldn’t go back to an office job.’

I look carefully at the wall, tilting my head; I’m not quite at that point yet. ‘It’s a nice break, but I can’t see that I’d like to do it full-time. Every muscle in my body is aching, for starters.’

‘Yeah, it’s a lot more physical. But maybe it will tempt you away from going back to marketing.’

I start to collect the discarded wallpaper that’s strewn all over the floor and place it into a bin liner. ‘That’s if the marketing industry will have me back. The more I think about what happened, the more it worries me that no one is going to give me a job ever again.’

I’m thankful that at least with the house renovations there’s a lot to keep my mind occupied so I don’t have to think about it, as I’m not qualified for anything else.

‘I don’t know what else I’d do, or if I want to do anything else. I did really love my job. OK, so it was maybe a bit too full-on and busy, but I’d love to do the same sort of thing with a smaller company.’

‘It’s hard, isn’t it?’ says Rosie, perching on the side of the bath. ‘We’re told that we’re supposed to want these great jobs and then when we get them, we realise that it’s to the detriment of our lives. I don’t think I really noticed it when I was working, but since I left and I see Ru – or I don’t see Ru – during the week, I see how much of our life he’s missing out on.’