‘I’m sure he will,’ I said.
‘What day will he be coming?’
‘I don’t know, sweetheart,’ I said. ‘It depends what day Joe’s moving house. I’ll give him a call later on if you want.’
‘I hope it’s tomorrow.’
‘It won’t be,’ I told her. ‘But maybe at the weekend if you’re lucky.’
Lucy, who was playing with Lego, looked up. ‘Joe’s not moving any more,’ she announced.
I laughed. ‘I think you’ll find that he is.’
‘OK, only he isn’t.’
My daughter suddenly had my full attention. ‘Why do you say that, Luce?’ I asked, putting the magazine to one side and leaning forward.
‘Well,’ she said, taking a deep breath. ‘He was going to move, but then Marius – that’s the man he works with who makes all the cupboards – went back to live in . . . somewhere. Some foreign place, where he lived before, I think. Anyway, now Joe has to stay here so that he can do all the kitchens in everybody’s houses.’
Lucy had always spoken in long, breathless monologues, but recently they’d come to at least be coherent, and occasionally, like now, they were even interesting.
‘So Joe and Joe, that’s the other man he works with – they’re both called Joe, which is really funny if you think about it – they have to do all the jobs that Marius was s’posed to do, only Joe doesn’t have anywhere to live any more because Daddy and Amy are moving back into the house down the road that Joe lives in, so who knows where he’ll go now or what will happen to Dandy.’
She stretched out her arms, palms up, Shiva-style, and shrugged theatrically.
‘Gosh!’ I said. ‘I didn’t know that.’
‘No, you didn’t,’ Lucy said proudly. ‘Ben tells me everything.’
About ten minutes later, Ant rang the doorbell, so, on the doorstep, I checked to see if what Lucy had said was true. We’d reached the point in our separation where we could just about have a normal conversation.
Ant confirmed that Joe was staying on to finish some jobs, but said he didn’t know anything about his living arrangements, or how long he was intending to stay. ‘He’s a twat, though,’ he told me. ‘I offered him the show flat and he said no. And it’s too late now, because it’s sold.’
Once they’d gone, I felt a bit funny, so I sat in the lounge and tried to work out why. I had a strange feeling of butterflies in my chest – the physical sensation preceding the idea itself. But then it came to me.
I thought about it all morning. The house was empty, and the rain continued outside, but instead of being depressed and lonely, I was feeling vaguely excited. And the more I thought about my idea, the more excited I felt.
I tried to temper the sensation by forcibly telling myself that my enthusiasm was inappropriate. But it didn’t seem to work, and at two, after lunch, I caved and called Joe. When he failed to pick up, I grabbed an umbrella and walked round there instead. I found him in the garage, sorting through a pile of toolboxes.
‘Hey, Heather,’ he said, as I stepped beneath the shelter of the opened garage door and folded my umbrella. The rain was pattering on the wet drive, splashing my feet and drumming on the metal above my head. ‘I was just about to call you,’ he continued. ‘I wanted to finish up here first. What’s up?’ He looked better than when I’d last seen him. Less haggard, somehow.
‘Nothing much,’ I said, sounding, even to myself, as if I was lying. ‘I heard about you delaying your move, that’s all.’
‘Oh, that,’ Joe said, peering into a box, rifling around, and pulling some kind of wrench from the depths, which he then set aside. ‘Did Ant tell you?’
I shook my head. ‘Ben told Lucy, I think. And then Lucy told me.’
‘No secrets at all,’ Joe said, grabbing a rag and wiping the grease from his hands.
‘Did you find somewhere to stay?’ I asked, doing my best to sound completely casual. ‘Lucy seemed to think that was something of a problem.’
‘Really?’ Joe said. ‘She told you that? Kids! Wow! I hope Ben’s not worrying about it.’
‘I’m not sure,’ I said. ‘But maybe. So did you find anywhere?’
‘Yeah, kind of,’ Joe said. ‘They’ve got rooms at that B&B next to the pub. It’s a bit flaky, but for a couple of weeks, it’ll do.’
‘Right,’ I said. I took a deep breath and tried to choose the perfect tone of voice for what I was about to say. ‘So, I was thinking . . . Why don’t you just stay at ours?’
Joe looked up from the toolbox. He smiled and frowned simultaneously. ‘Yours?’ he said.
I shrugged. ‘We’ve got two spare rooms. You’re out all day anyway . . . Why not?’
‘What, like a lodger?’ Joe asked.
‘Yes,’ I said. ‘Yes, exactly like a lodger.’
‘I’m not sure,’ he said, and it looked to me like he was trying not to smile. ‘Would it . . . ? I don’t know . . . Wouldn’t that feel weird or something?’
‘Weird?’ I said. ‘I don’t see why. No weirder than knowing that you’re staying in some dodgy B&B while I’ve got empty rooms at mine.’
‘Right,’ Joe said. ‘Yeah, I don’t know . . . And Ant? What about him?’
I shrugged. ‘What about him?’ I said. ‘I don’t consult Ant on anything these days. I’m not sure if you heard, but we separated.’
We stared at each other for a moment, and then Joe averted his gaze and said, ‘Look . . .’
I knew in that instant that he was about to say no. So though I was loath to say it, specifically because it was entirely untrue, I decided to use my trump card. ‘Maybe you could chip in a bit for bills or something,’ I said. ‘Not much, of course. But I could do with a little extra cash, if that works for you.’
‘Look, I . . .’ Joe said again. But then what I’d said registered, and he paused once again and looked
