Esther Chilton

Here’s the next instalment in my building work diary, telling the tale of when I had a loft conversion a few years ago.

If you missed the story so far, here are the earlier days:

Day One

Day Two

Days Three and Four

Days Five and Six

Days Seven, Eight, Nine, Ten, Eleven and Twelve

Days Thirteen, Fourteen and Fifteen

Days Sixteen and Seventeen

Days Eighteen, Nineteen, Twenty and Twenty-one

Days Twenty-two, Twenty-three and Twenty-four

Days Twenty-five and Twenty-six

Day Twenty-seven:

Gary is back and tells me I look lovely today. I’m so surprised that my mouth opens and the words are out before I can stop them, “So do you.”

I wait for the ground to open up and swallow me. It does no such thing of course and Gary has gone bright red.

“Do you think so?” he says, “only I’m not sure about these shorts. You reckon they suit me then?”

I nod, unable to speak.

“You think they’re my colour?”

I’ve got to stop nodding, but I can’t seem to stop.

My daughter shouts up the stairs that there’s water all over the kitchen floor. That’ll be from the washing machine. Great.

I manage to avoid Gary for the rest of the day.

Day twenty-eight:

I psych myself up for dealing with Gary, but someone else arrives first. It’s Dyno Des, who I discover is the plumber. I hate to say it but there’s a bit of a smell about him. Perhaps it’s from the brown stuff he seems to leave smeared over everything. I try not to think about it too much. He also has a habit of saying ‘horses for courses’ a lot, interspersed with ‘nice one’. When Gary turns up, it’s clear they’re good friends. I hope Gary doesn’t tell him about yesterday, but things are easier between us. Phew!

Dyno Des suggests I go out for the day tomorrow as the water needs to be off all day. “They’ll be mess everywhere and the smoke alarms will be going off. You’re better off out of it.”

I have to agree.

It’s as I’m heading off on the school run that I hear Gary talking to Dyno Des. “That lady’s all right, isn’t she?”

“You mean Esther? You don’t fancy her, do you?” Dyno Des goes into a mad coughing fit.

“God no. She must be at least me mum’s age. I just meant she’s nice. All right, like.”

I’m in my early 30s…