Jack by the Hedge (Jack of All Trades Book 4) (3 page)

Bill shut the door.

‘Right,’ said Ian, still irritated at the young man’s response, but leaving it behind. ‘Right,’ he repeated, ‘you all know what that marquee is for. At least I should hope everyone knows what’s happening this week…’ He waited for a reply.

‘The Mayor’s tree,’ said Zar.

‘Exactly. Someone’s awake on a Monday morning. This Wednesday, 11 am, they are coming. The Mayor to plant a tree in the Mayor’s avenue, but also this year, our Member of Parliament is retiring and he’s planting his tree too. So it’s a double ceremony. As you probably know the MP, Sir Leonard Ford, is a cabinet minister...’

‘Minister of Justice,’ said Zar.

Ian gave the uppity Asian youngster a stern look and continued. ‘So we’ll get the Newham Recorder, maybe TV coverage. The whole park will be on show.’

‘Are we invited?’ said Rose.

‘No,’ said Ian. ‘You are the back room boys,’ adding, after a glance at Liz, ‘and girls. I’ll be your representative.’

‘I’ll be there,’ said Liz. ‘For the floral display.’

‘So you will,’ admitted Ian.

‘There are always questions about the display,’ she said, ‘And I have to present bouquets to the Mayor and MP.’

‘Yes, of course. Liz and myself will be there. Representatives of the park. We must be totally ship-shape. So let’s get on the move. Here’s the jobs to be done… Rose, you are on the leaf vac. Start with the main lawn.’

‘I always do the leaf vaccing,’ she complained in an appeal round the room. ‘Can’t I do the playground for once?’

‘Don’t argue with me, Rose. Leaf vac.’

Rose stood up with a pronounced sigh.

‘Amy. Put out the tennis nets. Then playground for the rest of the day.’

‘Do you want to swap, Amy?’ said Rose.

‘She does not,’ retorted Ian, pointing to the door. ‘You both know what you have to do. Off you go.’

The women started to go, Rose making clear her reluctance in her slumped posture.

‘Zar. Bowling green. Get the swish, and clear the dew, then trim the banks.’

‘It’s a switch.’

Ian rapped his fingers on the table and stared at the young man.

‘Are you trying to teach me something, Zar?’

‘The correct term is switch, sir, used to remove dew and surface water from greens.’

‘You know what I mean, smartarse.
Swish
it. Then give the bowling pavilion a sweep, inside and out. We might need it on the day.’

‘OK.’ Zar hesitated then said in a doubtful tone, ‘I’m not sure if this is the right time, but about day release classes…’

‘You’re correct. It’s not the right time.’

‘When will be the right time?’ Adding as an afterthought, ‘Sir.’

‘Never, if you don’t get out and start swishing.’

Zar held up his hands in surrender, and rose.

‘Bill. Clear the flower beds on the main lawn. Soon as they are cleared, dig the beds over and rake them, ready for spring planting. I’ll send Zar over to assist when he’s done.’

Bill nodded and stood up. He put on his cloth cap, and left Liz and Ian in the mess hut.

Ian waited for Bill to shut the door after him.

He said quietly, ‘I wanted to talk to you alone, Liz.’

‘I know what I have to do, Ian,’ she said. ‘Set up the cascade. I’ve got to check the equipment and the plants…’

‘Not about that.’

‘What then?’

He hesitated, aware what he was most likely to get, but he had to plough on.

‘About us.’

She stiffened. He continued, like a fly repelled first time against a window, and heading back.

‘I know things didn’t work out between us. I was hasty. My temper got the better of me. I have to realise when to let things drop. Give and take. Not hold grudges. Share. It has to be an equal relationship, compromise. Without compromise no relationship can work, Liz.’ A few weeks ago, he’d written to a newspaper and was quoting the advice that had been given by the agony aunt. ‘I’d like to give it another go.’

Her hand went to the side of her face as if she had toothache. She took a deep breath before speaking, gently but firmly.

‘How many times do I have to tell you, Ian?’

‘Is there someone else?’

She stood up. ‘That’s none of your business.’ She took the few steps to the door. ‘And if there’s nothing work related…’

‘Liz,’ he said. ‘I’ll do whatever you want. A clean sweep. We start over. A new leaf.’

She half opened the door, and shook her head. She turned back, half in, half out.

‘Ian, we are not right for each other. That’s the way it is. I am sorry, I really am. But it’s who you are and who I am. I’m not criticising you. Give it time, and we can perhaps be friends, but not with you trying to get us somewhere we could never be.’ She held up her empty hands. ‘I can’t make you happy, Ian.’

He was breathing quickly, his stomach hollowed. He didn’t want to do this, but there was no other way. She had forced it on him.

‘Close the door, Liz,’ he said, his arms pressing his thighs. ‘I’ve something important to say to you.’

‘About us?’ she said, holding the door edge, half outside.

‘About you.’

She didn’t move either way, the door bisecting her body.

‘Whatever you’ve got to say, you’d better say quickly,’ she said. ‘I’ve a lot to do.’

‘It’s about your qualifications,’ he said.

For a few seconds, she didn’t move. Neither spoke. She bit her lip and closed the door.

‘What about them?’

‘On your application form for your current job, sent in three years ago, you wrote that you had a Higher Certificate in Horticulture Practice…’ He was watching her closely. She was still, her mouth slightly open. ‘And you haven’t.’

‘How do you know?’ she said.

‘I checked with the examining authority.’

‘How did you know to check?’

‘That’s neither here nor there.’

She sank heavily into a chair. ‘My gabby sister. She’s dropped me in it.’

He held up a hand. ‘Don’t blame her. One evening last week, I was going in my house, she was going out, and I asked her where you were. She said you were at an evening class for your Higher Certificate. And I thought why, you’ve already got that. And so I checked. And found you hadn’t.’

Liz sighed heavily. ‘Three years I’ve been here. I can do the job, I do it well. Everyone agrees.’ Her hands went to her scalp. ‘I am taking the Higher Certificate in a few months…’

‘That’s not the point, Liz. You didn’t have it three years ago. You lied on your application form.’

‘OK, suppose I did. Spell it out. What does it mean?’

‘When HR find out, they’ll fire you. No excuses will work. A lie is a lie. You’ll be out on your ear.’

‘Cashiered and disgraced,’ she said with a long sigh. ‘I’ll have to move out of my cottage.’ It had suddenly hit her. ‘I’ll get a lousy reference – and be lucky to get a job stacking shelves in a supermarket.’ She appealed to her manager. ‘If you expose me, Ian, I’ll never get another job in this field… It would be my career over. You know how I love my cottage. You know I’m good at my job. Be reasonable, Ian.’

‘Be reasonable to me then.’

She was quiet for a few seconds, before looking him in the eye. ‘What do you want?’

‘I want us to be engaged, Liz.’

She sank back in the chair and breathed out heavily. ‘Right. I think I’ve got the picture. Though it’s all a bit much for me right now. I’m overwhelmed. It’s all somewhat sudden, hitting me all at once. Hell. It was going so well. Too well.’ She scratched the side of her face. ‘I need to go away and think about it, Ian.’

‘I’ll give you the morning.’

‘And then what?’ She flapped her hands rapidly. ‘Don’t tell me. I’ve heard too much already.’ She took a deep breath. ‘Right. Lunchtime. I know where it’s at. More or less.’ She stood up and strode rapidly to the door. ‘I’ll give you an answer at one o’clock. Promise me you won’t do anything before.’

‘I won’t.’

‘Thank you for small mercies.’

And she left him.

Chapter 5

Jack had separated the broken section from the good wall on either side, which left him a choice he hadn’t yet resolved. If he wanted to do the job quickly, he should smash down the leaning piece with his sledgehammer and cart it away in clumps. But most of the bricks were sound, and he was reluctant to simply have them thrown away, to end up in landfill. But it would take him a fair bit longer, separating brick from brick, to get them in a reusable state, instead of just smashing them up and dumping the lot. Meanwhile, in the yard was a pile of new bricks all serviceable and present, except the bricks were yellow and new. And these were aged and red.

Two days meant using the new bricks. He’d earn more if he finished in two days. Do as you’re told, mate. The mantra of the downtrodden working class. Except it would be a better job if he reused the old. Bob always told him he was a stubborn sod. But he hated waste. He’d only need a few of the new. They could be patterned in. All of which should be sorted out with the manager. Except he had a pretty good idea what the man would say.

Two days.

Damn it. It was only a small job. He’d do it his way. Once he was started, what could the man do? He still had a few hundred in hand from the shop he’d fitted out over the last two weeks. So he could survive even if he got his marching orders.

Risk it, and balls to the manager. There was a good chance he wouldn’t spot what he was up to until he was well into it. Jack put the sledgehammer aside and took up the club hammer and the bolster chisel. He began at the top of the damaged section. First thing was to check the feasibility. If the mortar was hell to get off, depending on the mix they’d used, then forget it. But if it came off fairly easily, then plan salvage was on.

He carefully placed the wide chisel on the mortar joint and struck firmly with the hammer, moving round the brick until it pulled free. Once on a site, years ago, he’d seen an old hand getting off old mortar with the back of an axe. The old bricklayer had said it was better than a club hammer, less likely to break the brick. Jack had a hand axe in his tool box that didn’t get a lot of use, and had thought of getting rid of it. Now it could earn its keep. He held the brick, the way he’d seen the old timer doing it, and chipped round with the back of the axe head, knocking off the mortar.

It worked, but he’d have to get a move on if he was to get anywhere near done in a reasonable time. Perhaps, if the manager saw a pile of old bricks, he might be persuaded. Move then. He worked on the top course, getting the double line of bricks free. Take down a course at a time, then work on getting the mortar off and his heap would be on the way.

Though there might be a fight on the horizon.

From the yard, he noted sudden activity, a buzz of conversation. A busier spot could hardly have been picked for him. A man in a flat cap exited, pushing a wheelbarrow with a spade and fork in it.

‘Morning,’ called Jack. ‘You out to do some digging?’

‘Clearing them flower beds,’ said Bill. ‘Bout time an’ all, for all that grew over the summer. Waste of money those beds. Dogs run through ‘em, kids kicking their balls in ‘em. I saw a three year old picking the flowers and her mother just looking on. I said to her, stop your child please. She says he’s not doing any harm…’ He stopped and shook his head. ‘Why do we bother to give people like that flowers? Tell me.’

‘Not everyone is like that.’

‘I saw a wedding group standing in the middle of the flower bed, tramping over everything, taking pictures. In the middle, trampling what they were photographing.’

Jack was going to say – not everyone is like that, but thought he’d just get another example of bad behaviour.

Instead he said, ‘Why not concrete the lot over? That’d teach ‘em.’

Bill blew a raspberry. ‘Just end up as a rubbish tip. Human nature screws up everything.’ He sighed. ‘Can’t stand here gabbing.’ He screwed up his face. ‘I wouldn’t have a wall there at all.’

‘Electric fence?’ suggested Jack.

‘Better than a wall. Gotta go. Do something. No matter what.’

And Bill lifted his wheelbarrow and set off towards the lawn. Jack shook himself; the man left him in a graveyard of gloom. Everything is rotten in the world, everything failing, people are awful. Nothing can be done. Might as well cut your throat if there’s not a nearby cliff to jump off.

He rapidly struck the mortar off a brick. Then a second. Working swiftly. Clear the head.

The young woman from earlier was coming out the yard pushing a machine that looked to him like a cross between a large mower and a very pregnant vacuum cleaner.

‘What you got there?’ he called.

‘A leaf vac,’ said Rose. ‘I was on it every day last week. Makes a noise like a jet plane. I might as well be an office cleaner. To hell with it.’

‘Nice to see you so cheerful. Must be something in the air. We still on for our dinner date, princess?’ said Jack.

Her scowl transformed to a smile, as if she had changed identities from a drudge to a lady. She stepped away from the machine, arms spread to show the width of her domain.

‘With caviar and chocolates, wine and roses,’ she said, waving a beguiling finger. ‘And you never know what there might be for dessert.’

She tripped forward and gave Jack a peck on the cheek. Then quickly stepped back to be out of his reach.

‘Must go.’ She beckoned behind her and added with a hiss, ‘The old prick might be watching.’ And dropped back to her morosity. ‘Bloody machine.’ And headed off.

Jack rubbed the side of his face. A teaser, he was sure of it. How many other dinner dates was she setting up this morning?

A young Asian man had come onto the bowling green. He had a long thin flexible rod and began lashing it in long sweeps against the surface of the grass, throwing up sprays of dew. He saw Jack watching and gave him a wave, as he worked methodically, clearing the green in a line from gulley to gulley, then turning back and doing another strip. The cleared area was bright green, the dewy area a milky green sparkling in the sunlight, drops flying into the air as the lash struck.

Further up the drive, by the tennis courts, a small lorry had drawn up. Two men were taking out of the back large rolls of white canvas. Heavy bundles needing one on each end to get them out and lay them on the ground. They followed up with packs of poles. A marquee, Jack guessed. Who’s getting married?