Forgive Me (22 page)

‘That would be lovely,’ she
replied.

‘Glad you think so,’ he said.
‘But don’t get alarmed that I’ve brought a bag with me – that’s
just some smarter clothes to change into later. I thought we could walk through Holland
Park, there’s a great Chinese up on Kensington High Street.’

Eva liked the fact that he didn’t want
her to think he expected to stay the night. She really liked him, she kept thinking
about him when he wasn’t here, and it was nice that he was so gentlemanly with
her. She certainly didn’t want to be pushed into anything until she was really
sure.

Shortly afterwards, Brian turned up with a
couple of boxes of tiles and some sheets of hardboard.

‘I found all these tiles in the shed
last night, and I thought you might like them for a splashback,’ he said, opening
a box to show her some white tiles with a pale grey motif on them. ‘They were left
over from a job, and I reckon there’re more than enough to do the wall behind the
sink.’

Eva was thrilled. They were just what she
would have picked herself. ‘Gorgeous! Thank you so much, Brian. But you
shouldn’t be wasting your Saturday doing stuff for me, you should be taking Julie
out.’

‘She was going shopping with her
sister, anyway.’ He grinned. ‘She don’t want me trailing along behind
her. And the hardboard is to lay on the floor ready for lino tiles – you can’t put
them down on floorboards. I brought a bit extra
too for the back of
the units under the breakfast bar. That’ll look OK when it’s painted
white.’

Eva left the men to get on while she drove
up to Notting Hill to buy some kitchen equipment, plates, bowls, and cutlery too. While
she was up there she looked in an interior design shop to get ideas for fabric to make
some curtains. Everything was terribly expensive, but then she’d already planned
to get her fabric from a cheap shop she’d seen in Shepherd’s Bush.

Brian had done most of the tiling by the
time she got back, and Phil had nearly finished his skimming.

‘Goodbye graffiti,’ she said as
he began to cover the last bit. ‘I’m sorry, but I’m not going to miss
you one bit.’

Phil laughed. ‘What kind of arsehole
does it to a place he lives in?’ he said. ‘I can understand it on empty
buildings, or even the thrill of doing it on a bridge over a railway line, but not in
your house.’

‘I expect there was nothing on the
telly,’ Brian said. ‘I’ll have to try it one night and see what Julie
thinks of it.’

‘I think she might dismember
you,’ Eva said. ‘Did you tell Phil about what that creep next door said
about plastic window frames?’

‘He did,’ Phil said. ‘I
felt like knocking on his door and marking his card, bloody cheek! But I reckon the
reason he stuck his oar in was because he’d hoped to get his hands on this
place.’

As Brian hammered down the hardboard on the
floor, he glanced at Eva unpacking all the kitchen stuff she’d bought and thought
how much better she looked compared with the first time he had called here. Phil
hadn’t revealed anything much about her – just that the house was a tip, and she
needed help.

Brian had more than enough work lined up to do
already, but he knew Phil wouldn’t have asked him if he hadn’t been worried
about the girl. As soon as he got here he saw right away why his friend was concerned.
It wasn’t just that the house was such a mess. It was her: she looked forlorn and
scared, only one step away from tears, yet she was desperately trying to act
confident.

If it had been anyone else living in that
area, he would have charged a couple of thousand at least. But faced with someone who
looked like the world was against her, it was all he could do not to give her a hug, and
offer to do the kitchen for free.

It turned out to be a pleasure, because she
was a little sweetheart. She made him tea, offered her help, and showed so much
gratitude and admiration for his work. Then when he got her story out of her, he
understood why she’d looked so forlorn. She might have been left a property
valuable enough to set her up for life if she used her head, but losing her mother, and
then her stepfather turning on her, was enough to crack even the toughest person. And
she could easily fall prey to some unscrupulous bastard who would rip her off.

Brian really hoped she and Phil would become
an item, because it was obvious they were ideal for one another. But Phil was as bad as
Eva; he’d been hurt badly and he was afraid to trust again.

The two of them needed their heads knocking
together or they might spend an eternity pussyfooting around, both too scared to make
the first move.

By two in the afternoon both men had
finished their jobs, and they went out into the garden with a beer.

‘You’ve turned this into a real
beauty spot,’ Brian said
appreciatively, noting she’d
scrubbed the paving stones and planted flowers in every available bit of soil and still
more in tubs. It had looked as forlorn as she did the first time he’d seen it, but
the warm weather had made everything grow. She’d dug out all the dead plants,
trimmed back the straggling climbers, and there wasn’t a weed in sight now.

‘Did you leave anything for anyone
else at the garden centre?’ Phil joked, looking at a couple of large empty pots,
sacks of compost and trays of still more bedding plants waiting to be planted.

‘Don’t you scoff, she’s a
good little homemaker,’ Brian said. ‘You mark my words, by the time she
throws a housewarming party the whole place will be like a palace.’

Eva glowed at the praise. ‘I will have
one, and you must bring Julie so she can see how lovely the kitchen is. I’ll pin
the pictures up of when it was a hovel. And then you, Phil and John can all bask in
everyone’s admiration.’

‘Once John’s done the windows
you ought to get the heating and the bathroom done,’ Phil said. ‘I’ve
got some numbers for you to ring, Eva. I don’t want you getting any cowboys
in.’

‘If you get the lino tiles for the
kitchen, I’ll come back and put those down for you,’ Brian said. ‘And
if you want a fitted wardrobe upstairs, just shout.’

‘I will,’ she said, smiling at
him. ‘I might need more lessons in DIY too.’

He jotted down something on a scrap of paper
and handed it to her. ‘That’s how many lino tiles you’ll need, and my
phone number so you can ring me.’ He got up and clamped his hand on her shoulder.
‘I must go now. It’s been a pleasure doing your kitchen, and you keep in
touch now.’

Eva went into the house with him to get the
money she owed him. He looked as if he didn’t want to take it, but she pressed it
into his hand and kissed his cheek.

‘I’m going to miss you,’ she
said. ‘Your Julie is a lucky lady.’

He looked faintly embarrassed. ‘And
you are a lovely girl,’ he said. ‘Now if you’re worried about
anything, or want to know something, just call me.’

It was a beautiful evening as Eva and Phil
walked through Holland Park to the restaurant. She hadn’t realized that the tube
took its name from this park. In fact it was more of a wood, really – some of the trees
must have been planted a couple of hundred years ago.

‘I love this park best in May when the
leaves are all vivid and new, and the bluebells are out,’ Phil said thoughtfully.
‘Mum used to bring me and my brother here for picnics sometimes. She liked to look
at the posh houses in the streets around here, and me and Lee liked to climb the
trees.’

‘I wonder if this is where my mum
painted that bluebell picture?’ Eva said. ‘She loved them but said that they
were a pest in the garden. I love them too, but maybe I should heed her advice and not
plant any.’

‘You ought to become a
gardener,’ he said. ‘You’ve got a real flair for it.’

‘I don’t know nearly
enough,’ she replied. ‘But I know I ought to think about getting a real
career – working part time in a bistro is hardly that.’

‘So what would you like to do? I mean,
if you could choose anything?’

Eva thought for a moment. ‘I’d
like to train to be an interior designer. I’ve been into that posh shop in Notting
Hill twice, and I’ve watched the woman in there making up a board with paint
colours, swatches of curtain materials and stuff. I think I could do that. Well, maybe
with the right training.’

‘Could you go to a college for
that?’ he asked.

‘There was a place in Cheltenham that
did courses. So there must be dozens in London. I can sew too, so I could make curtains
and cushions. I made the ones in both Sophie’s and my own bedroom at home. But I
expect it costs a lot for a course – it’s always those glossy, far-back sort of
women that do it.’

‘You could make inquiries,’ he
said. ‘Maybe even get yourself taken on in a shop like the one in Notting Hill.
I’ve been working in some of these big houses where interior designers come in and
throw their weight around about colour schemes. They’ve always struck me as just
chancers, anyone with an eye for colour and a big budget could do it.’

‘Both you and Brian are doing a fine
job on building up my confidence.’ She laughed. ‘A few weeks ago I knew
absolutely nothing about plumbing, plastering … or anything, really.
I’ve learned such a lot watching you two. And John too.’

‘Now, tell me about the stuff in the
attic boxes,’ he said. ‘Was there anything in there worth anything to
you?’

It was almost eleven. Eva’s feet were
aching, and as she watched the last remaining table of six chatting and laughing she
wished they would pay their bill and leave so she could go home.

She had started to do a Friday evening
shift, along with lunchtimes at the bistro, the week following her meal with Phil in
Kensington. Soon she was doing Thursdays as well, and now it was Saturdays too.

At first she had been glad of the extra
work; she got far bigger tips on evening shifts, the time flew by because the bistro was
so busy, and she was getting to know people in the neighbourhood. But what she really
wanted was time to have some fun, which seemed to be evading her.

It was the end of July, and if she was going
to throw a party before the end of the summer, she needed carpets down and some
furniture. Not that she had any real friends aside from Brian, John and Phil to invite
to a party. But she had thought she could invite a few of the staff here, and some of
the more friendly customers, and that way she’d get to know them better.

She needed something to aim for; it seemed
to her that all she did was work and sleep. There was no time to laze in the garden with
a book, to explore London, or even to go and buy some new clothes to put in the lovely
fitted wardrobe that Brian had built in the big bedroom.

She had bought a single bed when the
inflatable mattress punctured, and a chest of drawers. A couple of stools for the
breakfast bar meant she could at least sit down to eat. But she
couldn’t order carpets until the decorating was done, and there was no point in
buying a sofa before the carpets.

Eva was afraid she’d hurt Phil’s
feelings too. First, by never being free on Friday and Saturday nights. And then
he’d offered to get a couple of his friends in to paint the house throughout, but
she’d snapped at him and said she wanted to do it herself.

She really did want to do it herself – that
wasn’t an excuse to stop him coming round. But she was a little anxious about how
he felt about her. He hadn’t so much as kissed her yet – well, apart from on the
cheek. Yet he had a way of looking at her sometimes, as if he was willing her to make a
move on him. Maybe she should; after all, she did fancy him. But she was too afraid of
getting hurt again, and that stopped her.

Eva had rung Olive a few days earlier when
the phone was finally installed. Her excuse was to give Olive the new telephone number,
but in reality she wanted the older woman’s advice about Phil. They chatted for a
while, and Eva told her how the house was progressing. The new bathroom and central
heating had just been completed, and she’d got a low-interest home improvement
loan to pay for it.

Olive had lost none of her directness and
went straight for the jugular, asking if ‘Prince Plasterer’ was still
around. Eva admitted her quandary.

‘Don’t be so daft, girl,’
Olive said. ‘Get a bit tiddly, give him a kiss and if he doesn’t respond,
apologize and tell him it was just the drink.’

‘But what if –’ Eva began.

Olive cut her short. ‘What if the Moon
collides with Earth tomorrow, or the Russians fire a nuclear bomb? Don’t waste
time on “what ifs”, life is too short for that. It’s obvious he
fancies you madly or he wouldn’t do all this stuff for you. Jump in with both
feet, girl.’

Eva had been amused and tempted by
Olive’s advice, and thought she might try it next time Phil came round. If he came
round again. Maybe she’d put him off for good?

As she polished glasses and replaced them
behind the bar she watched the remaining customers enviously. The men were suave and
confident and the three women with them were like so many of the women around here –
wearing chic clothes, with perfect hair and make-up. They had an aura about them, as if
they’d never had a moment of panic that they weren’t pretty or clever
enough.

She wondered what it was that gave some
people that self-assurance, and why she, who had grown up with so many advantages,
didn’t have it.

At last the group got up to leave. The three
women and one of the men went outside, and the oldest of the three men came forward to
pay. But the third man stood just behind him, smiling at Eva.

She smiled back. He was in his late
twenties, about five foot ten, very good-looking with bright blue eyes and impossibly
long dark eyelashes. She’d seen him in the bistro once before, having a business
lunch with some older men.

‘Eva, isn’t it?’ he said
as his friend put his wallet away and turned towards the door to leave. ‘I heard
someone call you that. It’s a pretty name.’