Fandango in the Apse! (20 page)

Alison had made it her mission in life to try to fix me up with any
eligible man that happened by.  I had endured many a dinner party, feeling as
uncomfortable as the poor chap Alison had chosen to reignite my dormant
passion.  Recently she’d given up, but obviously my relief was to be short
lived.

‘Katie, I hate to point out the obvious, but you’ll soon be what? Thirty
eight? Time’s a marching lady and if you are not careful you’ll…’

‘Alison?’

‘What?’

‘Shut up.’

‘Ok, but…’

‘No buts…I don’t want to hear it. 

‘All right, but I’m not giving up,’ Alison said, as she reclined her
chair and closed her eyes.  I watched her for a while; the vibrant red hair of
her youth had darkened over the years, but – and I smiled as I thought of this
– her freckles remained prominent over every part of her body.  She hated them,
of course, but I found them endearing.

‘I wouldn’t expect anything less,’ I said after a moment.

‘What?’

‘For you not to give up, you never have, have you?  I still remember you
coming to my rescue in the playground that day.’  Alison laughed.

‘Oh bless, I felt so sorry for you with those horrendous shoes.’

‘Do you remember what we did?’

Alison sat back up and grinned at me. ‘You mean, when I used to bring a
pair of mine for you to change into every day?’

I nodded.

‘She was a right bitch, your mother.  Fancy doing that to your child? 
Jesus, my boys won’t leave the house unless they have branded trainers, not to
mention coats and bags.’

‘Mine neither.  You are so lucky to have a mother like yours, she was
wonderful when we were kids.’

‘She was, wasn’t she?  She still is, she’s forever posting something or
other she thinks might come in useful.’

‘It’s a shame I only see her at Christmas, now.’

‘Well, whose fault is that?  You know you have an open invite every time
we go down there.’

‘I know, but I don’t like to intrude.’

Whatever Alison was going to say was drowned out by the children’s return
from the orchard.  Their cries of hunger prevented further talk.

Alison struck up the barbeque and I busied myself getting the food ready,
which was a mammoth task.  Five teenage boys and Missy, who now at nine,
preferred her full title, Melissa, polished off food quicker than we could cook
it.

Later as we were clearing up, Alison cast an anxious look out of the
kitchen window at the dark grey clouds now blotting out the sun.

‘Looks like rain, I think I’ll get off soon, Katie.  Judging by those
clouds it’s going to be quite a down pour.’

‘OK, I’ll send the boy’s up for their overnight things.  I hope it isn’t
raining tomorrow.’

‘Oh, I shouldn’t worry about that, they’ll all be soaked in the boat
anyway.  Mine always come back with a pile of soggy clothes.  Sea fishing,
according to Mark, is about getting wet and cold – I can’t see the fun it that,
but there you go, that’s boys for you.’

‘Are you sure Mark doesn’t mind taking mine too?  I sort of felt they had
invited themselves.’ 

The boys had heard Mark discussing the fishing trip to Bridlington with
his sons, and cleverly let it be known they had never been fishing at sea…hence
the

invitation.

‘Not at all,’ Alison said now. ‘You know Mark – the more the merrier.’

The first huge drops of rain fell as I was waving Alison’s people carrier
out of the drive.  I rushed around to the back garden to collect the loungers
to store them in the garage and literally got soaked to the skin.  Actually,
that wasn’t too hard as I was still only wearing my bikini top and denim
cut-offs.  By the time I was back in the kitchen, the rain was coming down in
sheets and I cast a despairing glance at the flowers being flattened by the
deluge.

A hot shower, I thought, as I shivered my way upstairs after a cursory
towelling in the kitchen.  Moments later, I stood in the bathroom looking at a
large bulge in the ceiling that was swelling by the second.  I climbed on the
toilet and gently poked at it with a finger.  You know what happened next,
don’t you?  You’re right…the bulge burst and spilled torrents of rainwater over
me and most of the bathroom floor.

Jesus Christ! I looked up and could see daylight. ‘Damn! Damn! DAMN! I
yelled as I ran downstairs, unsure of whether the whole roof was going to cave
in.  Back out in the garden I looked up at the loose tile, which had now
slipped down and was sitting precariously on the guttering leaving a gaping
hole in its wake.  I knew I had to do something, otherwise with the way the rain
was coming down, the whole of upstairs would be flooded.

My mind was working overtime as I gauged how high the roof was.  From the
ground, it was high, but I thought if I could get a ladder up onto the flat
garage roof and slide along a bit, then I might be able to reach the hole.  I
dashed into the shed and not without difficulty, manoeuvred the large ladder
Sam used for pruning the fruit trees, to rest against the garage wall. 

Next, I raided Toby’s toolbox and grabbed a handful of nails and a hammer. 
I put the nails in my pocket and shoved the hammer through a loop in my
waistband.  I gave a brief thought to my footwear as I started up the ladder
and decided as my sandals had rubber soles they would be safe enough. 

Getting on to the garage roof was simple but dragging the ladder up
behind me wasn’t so easy.  My arms were aching when I finally had it place – as
far to the edge of the roof as I thought safe.  It took some doing, but I
managed to get onto the main roof of the house.  I had to shimmy a few feet to
the left of the ladder and the garage roof to reach the tile and then crawl
another couple of feet further up the slippery tiles to get to the hole.  Are
you thinking what a bloody idiot I was?  I don’t blame you, so am I as I write
this.  But, at the time my only focus was trying to stop the upstairs carpets
being ruined.  The small matter of taking my life in my hands didn’t enter my
rain soaked skull.

Ten minutes later, I had slotted the tile back into its position and
nailed it down.  It wasn’t much of a job but the best I could do and certainly
better than nothing.  Lobbing the hammer onto the patio below, I started to
make my way back towards the ladder.  With grazed knees from the rough tiles on
my way up, I thought sliding along on my bottom was the way forward.  This was
fine until I had to turn around to get my foot on the top rung of the ladder.
To put it bluntly… my foot slipped in my now squishy sandals, I jerked, kicked
the ladder with my foot and then watched in horror as it crashed to the patio
below.

I couldn’t believe I’d just done that.  ‘You Stupid, Stupid, Idiot! I
yelled into the rain.  So there I was, perched on top of the roof like a
demented gargoyle, in the pouring rain wearing nothing but a bikini top, a pair
of shorts and no way of getting down, and it was starting to get dark. 

I could feel the panic begin to creep in, and I refused to let it.  Even
in the chaos of my mind at that point, I knew I had to keep a straight head.  ‘Right’,
I said aloud,’ you got into this mess and you have to get yourself out of it’. 

I began assessing my options – shouting for help wasn’t one of them – I
didn’t have neighbours.  I could try to jump onto the garage roof… but it was a
long jump and I might break an ankle then I’d still be stuck, but also in
pain.  I scrapped that option.  I could try climbing down the drainpipe – but
that was right at the other end of the house and meant I’d have to crawl across
the whole roof and then swing myself off the edge of it and then… I definitely
scrapped that one! 

So, that was it – I was screwed.  I had no other option, I just had to
cry, which I did for at least five minutes.  It was almost dark, I was soaked,
freezing cold and stuck God knows how many feet up on a roof, wouldn’t you have
cried too?

I was lying back on the roof with my feet wedged in the gutter, wondering
if you could die from hypothermia in the summer, when I first heard the sound
of tyres on gravel.  Immediately alert, I began shouting for help as loud as my
lungs would allow. I heard footsteps then someone shouted.

‘Katie? Where are you?

It was Robbie. Oh-my-God, it was Robbie! ‘Up here – on the roof!’

‘What?’

‘On – the – roof!’  I looked down and could just make out a figure below.

‘What the hell are you doing up there?’ he shouted.

‘The ladder fell – I can’t get down.’  I heard the scrape of the ladder
against the wall and then Robbie was on the garage roof, he looked furious.

‘Did you come up here to mend that tile?  Are you a complete fool?’

It was on the tip of my tongue to tell him that if he had put in on right
in the first place, I wouldn’t have had to, but in the interest of
self-preservation I thought better of it.  Anyway, I was so cold my teeth were
chattering making speech difficult.

‘Can you just help me down please?’ I begged, I was crying again and had
started shivering violently.

With no more effort than if it had been a feather, Robbie dragged the
ladder up and climbed until he got to me.  His voice had lost its anger as he guided
my feet to each rung.  We followed the same procedure down from the garage
roof, with Robbie directly below me on the ladder.

I had never been so relieved to be in my kitchen a few moments later.  My
teeth were chattering, I was still shivering and I was still
crying, but
joy of joys, I was off the damned roof. 

Robbie grabbed the towel I’d used earlier and started to rub my back and
arms with it, but I was so cold it hurt.

‘Right, let’s get you in a hot shower,’ he said.

‘Can’t… flooded… n-no ceiling.’

Robbie left the kitchen and a few moments later, I heard him upstairs.  I
managed to move my frozen legs across the kitchen and flicked the switch on the
kettle – I needed a hot drink.  By the time he returned I’d made two cups of
coffee.

‘Leave that,’ he said. ‘Put this on, you’re coming with me.’

Really quite unaware and equally uninterested in what was happening,
except that Robbie had found a thick, woolly sweater for me to wear, I watched
as he took my keys from their hook and ushered me out of the door.

‘Where are we going?’ I asked, once I was in the front seat of his car.

‘My house.’  Hmm… that was a bit terse.

‘Why?

‘Because you need a hot bath and you can’t have one at yours.’  

The mention of the bath brought back the state of my bathroom.

‘Oh! I can’t go, I have to mop up…’

‘I’ve done it… well as much as could be done tonight, you’ll need a new ceiling
though.’

It was too much – I started blubbering again.  Robbie reached over and
squeezed my hand; it was an oddly comforting gesture, I wasn’t expecting it,
especially from him.

‘Don’t worry, it’s not too bad… we’ll sort it.’

Please don’t be kind, I thought.  If I had any chance of turning off the
waterworks, kindness in any form, wasn’t going to help.  And why was I still
crying anyway?  For God’s sake, I was off the roof; catastrophe had been
avoided, the bathroom would be fixed.  Get a hold of yourself girl, I griped
silently.  I took a deep breath and blew my nose with the piece of kitchen roll
I had grabbed on the way out of the door. 

My voice still sounded wobbly when I eventually issued a belated thanks
to Robbie for getting me off the roof.

‘Think nothing of it.’ He shifted gear aggressively and as his powerful
car accelerated far too quickly for the road conditions, I lambasted myself for
bring up the whole roof thing again. Then a thought struck me.

‘So how come you were there anyway?’ I asked.

‘I was dropping Mark off when Alison came home.  She mentioned the tile.’

‘Didn’t she ask you to ring me?  I asked her to.  I wasn’t expecting you
to drop everything to come over.  To be honest, it didn’t look too bad until it
started raining.’

Robbie shrugged. ‘She did, but then as you say, the heaven’s opened, so I
thought as you are on my way home, I’d have a quick look.  Good job too,’ he
growled.

We were just pulling into Robbie’s drive as he said this, and as soon as
he pulled up behind his van he got out, slammed the door with a resounding
clunk and took off in the direction of the house.  I presumed I was to follow
him.  Well you would wouldn’t you – if you were supposed to be there for a
bath?  I was thinking how rude this man was, when I had to make my way through
the open front door alone. 

Robbie was nowhere in sight, although I could just make out the sound of
running water somewhere.  I had only seconds to take in the transformation of
the bungalow when he came through a door to my left, followed by puffs of billowing
steam.

‘Your bath is running,’ he said, with only a cursory glance in my
direction.

My thanks hit the back of his head as he retreated into another room and
again slammed the door.

Well!  Why the door slamming?  I was beginning to feel indignant; after
all, I hadn’t asked to be brought here.  It was his damned suggestion, so what
was his problem?  Only my gratitude for his earlier rescue stopped me slamming
the door myself.

The bathroom was huge and sitting in the centre was an ultra-modern
version of an of an old fashioned roll top bath.  It was deep and took a while
to fill, but it was worth the wait when I sank into the deep bubbles a few
minutes later.  I tried to suppress a grin at the bubbles, but couldn’t quite
manage it.  Aw… even though he was mad as hell, Robbie had still remembered the
bubble bath. 

I was sinking into quiet oblivion when a knock on the door startled me. 
I hastily swirled the bubbles into strategic positions and ducked down in the
water so only my head was visible.

‘Yes?’

‘Can I come in a sec?’

What?  Jesus… he wanted to come in?