Fix Them Up, page 10
It was hopeless.
I gave a useless, frustrated cry.
Then, the garden lit up, light cutting through the heavy sheets of rain briefly before it was extinguished.
Through the rain and darkness, a figure approached the garden through the side gate, and my heart started to pound quickly. Great, now I was going to be murdered in my own garden.
‘Who is that?’ I shouted.
‘It’s me,’ a deep voice shouted back, and my heart sank.
Liam’s face came into view as he approached the tent, his jaw set. His eyes scanned over me, grazing over my T-shirt that was wet and stuck to my body, and flickered away quickly. His face morphed into a grimace when he took in the pitiful sight of my tent.
Liam crossed his arms, ‘So, this was your big plan, huh?’
‘Are you going to stand there, or are you going to help me?’ I shouted back, trying to hold up the broken tent pole. ‘Have you got any duct tape in your van?’
‘You can’t camp out here, Red.’
‘It’s fine,’ I said while rain ran down the sides of my face. ‘It will settle down.’
‘This is Manchester, remember? It’s kind of known for the rain.’
‘That’s a myth. There is more rainfall in Cardiff.’
‘Semantics.’
‘It’s true. It will be fine. It’s supposed to be heavy for another twenty minutes, then it will be fine.’
‘Kat –’
‘There isn’t even that many centimetres of rainfall due –’
‘Get in the van, Kat,’ Liam growled. ‘We can debate rainfall statistics when we’re not getting soaked.’
The rain got heavier and joined forces with a gale-force wind. Liam turned on the heel of his boots, heading back for the van.
Was he going to leave me out here?
I made a frustrated noise. I was out of options and shaking from the cold. So I gave in and ran after Liam, climbing into the safe harbour of his warm van. The smell of wood and pine filled my senses. It was tidy and I wasn’t surprised. He had the air of someone who had an anal process for everything and would level anyone with a look if they went against his system. He was the opposite of me. I never did the same task the same way. It was partly why I didn’t trust myself to go freelance, even if I could make more money. I know I wouldn’t file my taxes on time, and the HMRC would arrest me. I’d be pulled out of my home, handcuffed. And I’d deserve it.
I glanced at Liam through the wet hair stuck to my forehead. We were both panting and pushing the water off our faces. Frustration rolled off us both in waves.
‘How did you know I was here?’ I demanded.
‘Why are you so stubborn?’ Liam’s voice was like thunder. ‘Next time, slip Ravi a tenner to keep quiet. I overheard him talking in the club about a “pretty but clueless” redhead buying a load of camping equipment, and I put two and two together.’
‘Ravi said that?’ My mouth fell open.
Liam shook his head, ‘Ravi looks innocent, but he’s the biggest gossip in Everly Heath. He gives Pat a run for her money. I was happy to leave you to your stupid plan.’
‘Then why did you come? Why not leave me? I would have been fine.’
Anger flashed in his eyes. ‘Because you could have hurt yourself. I sat at home, watching the rain come down heavier and heavier, and I –’ He stopped. ‘I didn’t fancy calling the police about a dead body when I came into work tomorrow. I was going to text Lydia or Brian but you were insistant you didn’t want to ask them –’ He petered off, running his hand through his wet hair, now jet black. The anger dissipated from his features, replaced with a bone-deep kind of tiredness I was familiar with. Burnout. Liam was burnt out.
Had he even realised yet?
I reached out. I couldn’t help it, couldn’t stop it. I touched his arm.
‘Are you okay?’ I asked as Liam’s eyes tracked my movement. His eyes came up to mine, frustration burning there now.
‘I’m fine,’ he said through gritted teeth.
‘You seem – like burnt out.’
He laughed humourlessly. ‘Of course you’d be the only one to notice.’
‘What do you mean?’ I frowned, pulling my arm away.
Liam sighed. ‘I’m fine. I’m tired.’
Guilt thrummed through me, ‘I know I said I’d sort it’ – I rubbed my face, searching for the words to explain – ‘but I just… I just can’t ask them. And I can’t afford an Airbnb, even with you not charging me for labour. It’s so expensive as it is. I can’t believe how naive I was about the costs.’
When Liam sent over a quote for materials for the project, I had to sit down. I hadn’t realised how the prices had increased massively since the pandemic, and it sent me into another spiral of self-hatred. I was so incredibly unprepared and naive about this project. Luckily, the money from my dad’s estate barely covered it. I was betting I would make some profit on this house.
It both thrilled and scared the shit out of me.
I lowered my hands. Peeking at Liam, I prayed I saw some semblance of understanding on his face. I literally couldn’t afford to scare him off.
‘Okay.’ Liam let out a harsh breath. ‘I’ve got somewhere you can stay. You can’t camp outside for weeks. We’re due rain for the rest of February. And March.’
I swear, the rain bombarding the van was a paid actor.
‘You can stay at mine. Don’t argue with me until I’m finished. I have an annexe in my garden. I built it for my dad during the pandemic. He had a health scare, and I wanted somewhere for him to stay. But he is as stubborn as you, so he has never used it. It has a little kitchen to make food, and you can have the privacy you want.’
My mouth hung open. This was incredibly generous and would resolve my problem, but the thought of seeing Liam every day made me feel a bit… funny. I had pins and needles running down my back and guilt thrumming under my ribcage. I would be a burden. I would be messy. I would probably accidentally break the shower or smash his collection of vintage Charles and Diana mugs from 1996.
‘People will talk,’ I said.
‘Talk about what?’
‘Me and you.’
Liam’s eyes were laser-focused on me. ‘And what would they say?’
‘You know – that you and I…’ I gestured between us.
‘That you and I what?’ he asked, his brows furrowed.
‘That you and I are, like, together.’
‘Together like sat in this van?’ he asked.
I made a frustrated noise. ‘No, like having S-E-X.’
‘S-E –’ His eyes widened, and he gasped. ‘Sex!’
The penny dropped. He was mocking me. I rolled my eyes as a wide grin took over his face.
‘You’re taking the piss.’
Liam’s laugh filled the van. ‘You make it so easy.’
‘I’m serious, Liam.’ I couldn’t help the smile pulling at my lips. ‘You said people are nosy.’
‘No one is going to care.’ Liam paused and stared ahead, like he was imagining the conversations he would be having at the social club. ‘Well, some people might care. A beautiful woman moving into my house isn’t particularly normal.’
My eyes widened. Liam turned to look at me, his eyes slightly wide.
‘Did you just call me beautiful?’ I laughed. ‘Does that line usually work?’
‘It wasn’t a line.’
‘Okay.’
‘I’m serious. I don’t make a habit of hitting on women I’m asking to move in with me.’ Liam ran his hand through his hair. ‘Nothing like that is going to happen. You’ll be safe living in the annexe. I won’t… you know. Try it on.’
‘Oh.’ I tried to pretend I wasn’t disappointed. I’d gone from being called beautiful to being completely off-limits. Great. He clearly didn’t fancy me, which was fine. It made things a lot simpler, actually.
‘Are you sure? I’m not going to be in the way?’
‘No more than usual.’
I rolled my eyes, ‘If you are sure and only if you are sure. But I want to pay you something.’ He protested, but I shut him down. ‘Let me pay for utilities.’
‘Lydia mentioned you’re a graphic designer. That’s why you were so offended by these.’ Liam leaned forward, pulled a business card out of his back pocket and handed it to me. My nose wrinkled at the boring black card.
‘So boring,’ I muttered under my breath.
‘You’re the expert. So you can pay me back by redesigning the logo and get me some new business cards.’
I waved it in front of his face. ‘You have to admit, they are boring.’
Liam levelled me a dry look, but his lips lifted slightly.
‘We’re builders. All of our work is by word of mouth. Handing you that card was the first time I’ve ever used one of those cards. And that was only because I was worried if I didn’t provide you with ID, you’d throw another lamp at me.’
‘I didn’t have any more lamps to throw. I am lampless.’
‘Just as well,’ he muttered. ‘I think I’ve still got the bruise from the last one.’
‘Baby,’ I crooned, and surprise flooded Liam’s features at the word, his ears going pink.
Liam coughed, ‘Redesign the logo, and we’re even.’
‘I’ll do more than that. I’ll design a complete rebrand. Website, socials. The lot. And don’t worry, I’ll make sure it’s sufficiently manly.’
Liam laughed. ‘It’s your choice. I’ll take whatever you give me.’ He nodded to the mess of my collapsed tent. ‘Have you got everything?’
I groaned. ‘My stuff’s in the tent. It’s probably soaking now.’
‘Wait here, I’ll go and get it.’
Liam jumped out of the van and returned to the tent with most of my belongings. Liam was clearly an ‘acts of service’ kind of man. I’d always wondered what it would be like to meet one of those. I’d always dated guys who could say lovely, honeyed words but then would inform the barman that we were paying for our drinks separately. Liam seemed the type to pay for the lot and help you move a sofa into your apartment on a Saturday afternoon. He wouldn’t spiral when you asked if he would come to your cousin’s wedding.
He was an all-in kind of guy.
Climbing back into the van, Liam had rain glistening on his cheeks.
‘I couldn’t rescue the blankets and towels, but I’ve got some you can use.’
Liam started the van and pulled off the drive, his words giving me a zip of excitement. I was going to see where Liam lived. He was still a bit of a mystery to me. I imagined the last bachelor pad I’d visited – a loser I’d met on Tinder. I’d taken a chance on him and had been bitterly disappointed when morning rolled around. I left his eerily bare apartment in the same clothes from the night before and a green shoot of regret in my stomach, adding a new branch to my deep-rooted self-hatred.
‘Do you have navy sheets?’ My thought-to-mouth speed was incredibly fast.
Liam arched an eyebrow. ‘You want to know what colour sheets I have?’
‘No! Not like that. It’s a thing. Men have navy sheets. I saw it as a joke online, and then it was confirmed by pretty much all the guys I’ve met on Tinder.’ My eyes widened. ‘Not that I’ve hooked up with a load of men on Tinder. I don’t go home with them until I know they won’t murder me in my sleep. I’ve listened to too many true crime podcasts.’ I stopped myself, taking a deep breath. ‘Sorry, that was a lot.’
Liam chuckled as we stopped at the red lights. ‘No, I don’t have any navy sheets. I have white ones.’
‘Shocking. I had you pegged for a navy sheet man.’
Liam glanced over at me. ‘Disappointed?’
‘Not at all; it gives me hope. One guy used empty booze bottles as decor and Fairy Liquid as a body wash.’
Liam shook his head. ‘A serial killer.’
‘I know, right!’
‘I’ve got proper shower gel.’
‘Phew.’
‘It’s five-in-one.’
I groaned. ‘Take me back to the tent. Please!’
He smiled, shaking his head. ‘Let’s not joke about the tent.’
‘Too soon?’
‘Too soon.’
Chapter Thirteen
Liam drove us through a modern estate of houses that all had the same kind of look but different configurations – some detached, semi-detached or terrace style. It was clearly an area that had been regenerated recently because it had that new design to the roads that made it feel like a toy town. We pulled up in front of a detached house with large floor-to-ceiling windows and a huge grey front door. It had to be one of the biggest of the designs.
It was gorgeous, even if it wasn’t to my personal taste. I also hadn’t pegged Liam as modern and sleek. I could see him wearing plaid shirts and chopping trees in a remote cabin in the woods, not wearing a suit, making coffee with an overpriced appliance as this house suggested.
I whistled. ‘Very nice.’
Liam shrugged. ‘I bought it in a bit of a rush about four years ago. I wouldn’t usually go for new builds ’cos they are usually built like shit.’ He glanced out. ‘And so many of these new estates are pushing people from neighbourhoods they’ve lived in since they were born. I could justify this, just about. It was a derelict industrial estate.’
‘They’re pushing people out of their homes? How can they do that?’
‘Compulsory purchase. They have no choice.’
‘That’s not fair.’
‘No. Progress is progress, I guess. Gentrification isn’t a London thing, you know.’ He shot me a wry look.
‘Why were you in such a rush to buy?’
Liam glanced away. ‘I’d broken up with my ex. I moved into a flat in town for a bit, but it wasn’t… practical. I needed somewhere to live and quickly.’
His comments triggered tons of questions, sprouting in my head at speed. But from his tense body language, it was clear that was all the information he would give. So I climbed out of the van, running to the boot in the rain.
Liam’s hand covered mine.
‘Go stand on the porch.’ I wanted to reject his attempt at chivalry, but I was fucking freezing, so I stood undercover as Liam grabbed my bags. Acts of service, indeed. Liam fished for his keys in his pockets and opened the door.
Liam sighed. ‘I’ll put the heating on. Bloody freezing.’
‘Are you sure this is okay?’ I blurted out, making Liam stop.
He turned around and came back to stand in front of me. His hair had dried a little bit in the car, making it curl slightly at the nape of his neck. His eyes flickered around my face.
‘I told you. The annexe is always empty. It feels silly not to use it.’
I took a deep breath, trying to calm the buzzing in my chest.
‘You okay?’ Liam said, frowning. ‘Are you cold?’
‘I’m fine. Just a bit overwhelmed.’
Anxiety.
It was anxiety.
I knew it but couldn’t say it out loud.
‘That’s understandable. You almost got hyperthermia and died tonight.’
‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ I retorted, rolling my eyes. ‘You are so dramatic. I didn’t get –’ Liam’s face morphed into a smug smile. He’d goaded me on purpose to get me out of my head.
Liam smirked. ‘Can’t resist getting a word in. So I know you can’t be that overwhelmed. Come on.’ He gestured down the hallway with his head.
The hallway was modern, with light beechwood floors and spotlights. It was completely bare, with no furniture or pictures hanging on the wall. Two doors led off, presumably to a downstairs loo and a lounge, but I didn’t want to nosy around – yet. A beige-carpeted stairway led upstairs. It was like a show home, everything new and shiny, but it showed none of Liam’s personality.
I followed Liam and came into an open-plan kitchen and living room. The kitchen was modern and sleek. In my head, my kitchen would be more farmhouse-traditional, something out of a Nancy Meyers film, with clashing patterns and soft colours. Liam’s kitchen was the opposite – dark grey slab-fronted units with industrial pendant shades hanging above the island. The kitchen had expensive-looking appliances – an in-built coffee machine, a wine cooler and a double oven. It was obvious that Liam had expensive taste.
I sat at one of the metal barstools. ‘Your house is lovely.’
Liam clicked the kettle on. ‘I can’t take credit. Someone pulled out of the sale after picking all the fittings. I wouldn’t have picked it out myself, but it’s certainly… out there.’
I frowned. He didn’t like the house? Buying a house you didn’t like seemed strange. I couldn’t imagine it was cheap. It had to be four bedrooms at least, not including the annexe he’d built. He’d built it for his dad, which, I had to admit, was adorable. I was envious that they seemed to be so close.
Even when Liam berated his dad’s working habits, he did it from a place of love. Their relationship was clearly strong enough that Liam could be honest. I wondered if he knew how special it was to have frank conversations with his dad without worrying about their relationship breaking down, that it could be the final straw. I’d never had that. I’d never really been honest with my dad about how his absence made me feel. I’d been too hurt.
And I never got the confidence to stand up to my mum when she put me down, either.
‘Brew?’ He interrupted my thoughts. ‘I don’t have any alcohol in the house. I don’t drink.’
‘You don’t drink?’ I hadn’t noticed at the club.
‘I quit a few years ago. I – I hadn’t loved my relationship with it, I suppose.’ He said it lightly, like he didn’t want to lower the mood.
‘Tea would be lovely. Thank you.’
He poured boiling water into two mugs. I watched his hands grip the handle of the kettle. They were nice hands. I wondered what they felt like, running across skin. A strange shiver ran through me.
Liam’s eyebrows furrowed. ‘Are you sure you aren’t cold?’
I went pink, cringing at where my brain had taken me. I was standing in this man’s house, objectifying him. I should be ashamed of myself.
I smiled tightly. ‘I’m fine, thank you.’
