Blame it on the Onesie: A romantic comedy about work, water and wine

by CJ Morrow

  He inspected the bathroom, made copious notes and took photographs on his phone. He checked out the windows and measured them. They were still upstairs when Walt called up to say they were finished for the day.

  Ella called back her thanks and wondered what the time was.

  ‘What was all that with the other builder? He said I’d choose you anyway, so he didn’t want to waste his time.’

  ‘Our firm’s long established, goes back generations. We do all the work in the village.’

  ‘But I might not choose you.’

  ‘You probably will, we’re good and we’re great value for money.’

  ‘But someone might be cheaper.’

  ‘I doubt anyone will undercut us,’ Nathan almost laughed.

  ‘So it is like a builders’ mafia, then.’

  Now Nathan did laugh.

  ‘I want central heating,’ Ella said, when they reached the little boiler room.

  ‘Yes, there’s room here for a proper boiler, but it will have to be oil or calor gas, there’s no mains gas in the village. I’ll warn you now, this is a big job, costly, to modernise it while keeping the character.’

  ‘My friend says he can get me twenty pounds for this stove, so that will offset it.’ Ella laughed.

  ‘Worth a hundred scrap,’ Nathan shrugged. ‘Where are you going to live while the work’s done?’

  ‘Here. I have to live here.’

  ‘You’re moving in before it’s done?’

  ‘I have to. That’s why everyone’s been helping me with the cleaning and painting. I have to move in next week.’

  ‘Can’t you stay with a friend or something?’

  ‘No. I have to be here. It’s one of the rules.’

  ‘Rules?’ Nathan frowned.

  ‘The cottage comes with a whole list of rules. That’s one of them.’

  ‘I always thought that was just a story.’

  ‘You know about the rules?’

  ‘I’ve heard of them. I thought they related to the spring, looking after it, feeding it, that sort of thing. I think the whole village knows about that. But I didn’t realise there were rules about living here.’

  ‘Well there are,’ Ella said, feeling tired. ‘What did you mean about feeding the spring?’

  ‘Oh, nothing really. Just stories.’

  ‘What stories?’

  ‘I don’t really know.’ Nathan turned to leave the boiler room but it was so small he bumped into Ella. She felt something she could only describe as a sharp electric shock, like static. She jumped away, so did Nathan. ‘Sorry,’ he muttered.

  In the kitchen he took more photos, more measurements and added to his growing pages of notes. Ella followed him around, answering questions and trying to match this Nathan with the one she’d kissed in the car park, the one who’d written the shitty song about her.

  ‘What sort of kitchen do you have in mind?’

  ‘Um, something glossy white,’ Ella said, thinking of Hal’s advice, ‘so it reflects some of the light back in.’

  ‘Glossy white, in here?’ Nathan shook his head.

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘Parts of this place are seventeenth century.’

  ‘So I have to have a seventeenth century kitchen, do I?’

  Nathan shrugged, muttered, ‘your place,’ then closed his notebook.

  ‘Actually,’ Ella said, seeing his point. ‘Sam gave me some magazines…’

  ‘Let’s have a look, I could tell you what kind of thing will fit in here.’ He stopped. ‘I mean size wise. The ceilings are low; you won’t be able to go for tall modern cabinets. I know it’s not for me to tell you what to have.’

  Ella enjoyed watching him squirm. ‘They’re in the car.’

  ‘Show me on the way out, it’s getting late.’

  Ella made sure every door was locked before she left and followed Nathan outside. She pulled the magazines out of her car and laid them on the bonnet. There wasn’t a glossy white kitchen in any of them. She pointed to a cream kitchen with solid wood tops.

  ‘Yes, that would fit,’ Nathan said. ‘That would work too.’ He pointed at another one, pale blue.

  ‘Mmm, that is nice.’ Ella’s head bobbed up when she heard the now familiar roar of Hal’s car. He pulled up sharply and skewed his car in front of Ella’s.

  ‘Hal,’ Ella called out, rushing towards him.

  ‘Fuck’s sake,’ Nathan muttered and when Ella looked around, he was already in his van and driving away.

  ‘Hello, Teletubby,’ Hal’s liquid voice said as he lifted Ella up and hugged her. ‘And who’s your rude friend?’

  ‘Oh, that’s the builder.’ She wanted Hal to kiss her. Right there. In the street.

  ‘I don’t recognise him.’

  ‘Not one of yours. He’s local.’

  ‘What’s his name?’

  ‘Nathan.’

  ‘Not Nathan Jessop?’ Hal asked, dropping Ella as though she were a sack of potatoes.

  ‘Yes. Do you know him?’

  ‘By reputation. He’s a bastard, Ella. Keep away from him.’

  Well, I already know that, thought Ella. You don’t need to tell me.

  Twelve

  ‘So you do know Nathan?’ Ella stood back and frowned at Hal.

  He shrugged, then shook his head. ‘Like I said, I know of him.’

  ‘Only he seemed to know you.’

  ‘I don’t think we’ve ever met. Well, not that I remember anyway.’

  ‘He’s been right through the place, been very thorough. Made suggestions, made notes and taken measurements.’

  ‘Builders do that, Ella. It’s their job. Try my guys.’

  Ella wondered if now was a good time to tell Hal that one of his guys was too busy, one hadn’t replied at all yet, and that the other had bowed out to Nathan. Maybe not. ‘Come and have a look round,’ she said, changing the subject. ‘We’ve painted another room.’

  Hal nodded his approval in all the right places as Ella guided him around the cottage. She had to stop herself from talking about Nathan’s suggestions or how Nathan was going to tackle the jobs. Whatever had gone on between Hal and Nathan it was obvious the feeling was mutual even if Hal maintained they’d never met.

  Hal put his arm around Ella’s shoulder. ‘Are you all ready for your move?’

  ‘Sort of.’ Ella thought about the few pieces of her mum’s furniture in Sam and Charlie’s garage. She sighed.

  ‘What was that for?’ Hal asked.

  ‘Just thinking about my friend Sam, we had a big row.’

  ‘What about?’

  ‘Just stuff. Stupid stuff really.’

  ‘Never mind, you’ve got me. I’m your friend now.’ Hal laughed and wandered towards the cellar. ‘How’s the spring?’

  ‘Fine,’ Ella said, buttoning up her coat. ‘Shall we go? I need to change.’ Maybe she would ring Sam tonight. Maybe she should just pop round. ‘What’s the time?’

  ‘Nearly six,’ Hal said, after consulting the Rolex on his wrist; everything about Hal was expensive.

  ‘I didn’t realise it was so late. Someone’s ringing me at half-six.’

  ‘Your friend, no ex-friend, Sam?’

  ‘No, my ex-colleague, Tiffy the Troll.’

  Hal laughed; Ella adored his laugh, so deep and throaty, it managed to sound both sexy and friendly at the same time. It made her feel warm inside.

  ‘Phoebes is out tonight, cinema or something with her girlfriends, so I thought I could cook dinner for you,’ he paused. ‘At my place.’

  ‘That sounds great,’ Ella said as she got into her car and Hal closed the door behind her.

  ‘About eight,’ he said, after she’d wound the window down.

  Ella wondered if she’d last that long, she felt exhausted.

  She nodded and started the engine, watched Hal saunter over to his car.

  She just made it through the door and plugged the phone into the charger when it rang. Tiffy. Right on time.

  Ti
ffy started with small talk, how was Ella, what was she doing, was everything going well, wasn’t the weather getting nicer? Ella was tired, too tired for this nonsense.

  ‘Tiffy, why don’t you just tell me what you want. Make both our lives easier.’

  ‘Right. Well. Where to begin.’ Tiffy sounded flustered now. She coughed. ‘We want you to come back, Ella. We need you to come back. You’re such an integral part of the team. We miss you. We all miss you.’

  ‘Yes, you said all that this morning. Look, Tiffy, I don’t know why Gwynnie has put you up to this, but I’ve already told her, I’m not coming back.’

  ‘Gwynnie hasn’t put me up to this.’ Tiffy coughed again. ‘Excuse me, I just need some water.’ Ella heard Tiffy swallow. ‘The truth is I need you to come back. We all do.’

  ‘I can’t believe you miss me that much. It’s not as though we were best friends, is it?’ Ella considered ending the call; would that just be too rude?

  ‘No. I suppose not.’ There was a silence followed by Tiffy’s meek sounding voice. ‘I need you to come back, even if it’s only for a short time because you’re the only one who knows how to do the work.’

  Well, there it was. It wasn’t a startling revelation; Ella had announced that to everyone herself. What was surprising, shocking even, was that Tiffy was admitting it. ‘But there are written procedures, haven’t you looked at them?’ Ella asked.

  ‘Yes. But…’ Tiffy’s voice trailed off. ‘They might have been mislaid when you left.’

  ‘Mislaid? What do you mean, mislaid? They were in the folders, in the cabinet.’

  ‘All your stuff was,’ Tiffy paused, ‘cleared away, when you went.’

  ‘You mean binned, don’t you. Well that’s not my fault. I left clear documentation; it’s always been my thing, very clear documentation. What did you do when I was off?’

  ‘We didn’t have the volume or complexity of work then. I’m begging you,’ Tiffy said, ‘on behalf of the whole team. We need you to come in and show us what to do. Especially me and Gwynnie.’

  ‘Oh. I don’t know what to say.’

  ‘Please say yes.’

  ‘Did you say Gwynnie didn’t put you up to this?’

  ‘No. It was my idea, but she knows I’m ringing you. Please, even if you only come in for a few days, at least you could give us a good overview of what we need to do.’

  ‘But how did you manage when I wasn’t there?’ Ella persisted. ‘When it was just you and Gwynnie, when I was off because of my mum?’

  ‘We bluffed it. We didn’t have any major projects on like we do now and we bluffed it. We can’t do that anymore. We need you.’

  My God, that was honest, thought Ella. But she really didn’t want to go back, not even for a week, not even for a day. And she still hadn’t had notification of how much they were going to pay her, or not pay her on payday.

  ‘Ella,’ Tiffy said, ‘Gwynnie has authorised me to offer you double pay for that week.’

  ‘Ha. It’s not the money, not now.’ Ella smiled to herself. That was the irony; if Gwynnie had paid Ella fairly in the first place, she would probably have continued to carry Gwynnie and Tiffy. She may have resented it, but she would have done it. Who knows, she might even have turned down Spring Cottage.

  Would she?

  Maybe not.

  ‘I can’t do a week.’

  ‘A few days?’ Tiffy said, sounding hopeful.

  ‘I need to think about it. I have a lot on at the moment. I’m moving house.’

  ‘Oh. Then the extra money would come in handy,’ Tiffy reasoned.

  ‘It’s not about the money.’ Ella said again, though some cash right now would be useful.

  ‘Gwynnie is prepared to apologise, if that’s what it takes.’

  Ella laughed, she couldn’t help herself. ‘I don’t know. I don’t really have the time.’

  ‘Look, Ella, I’m begging. We both are. Please. At least sleep on it, let me ring you tomorrow morning.’

  Ella didn’t speak for a moment while she thought about it.

  ‘Ella, you still there?’

  ‘Yes, I am. Okay. Ring me tomorrow. But I’m not promising anything.’

  ‘Thank you,’ Tiffy’s voice sounded more hopeful. ‘And I’m sorry about your friend Sam. I hope she gets better soon and everything.’

  Sam. What was wrong with Sam? Ella felt alarmed. Had something happened to Sam. Had something happened to the baby?

  ‘What with her being rushed into hospital and everything,’ Tiffy continued, ‘I expect you’ve got a lot on your plate. But please, please, help us.’

  Ella caught her breath, she wasn’t about to admit to Tiffy that she didn’t know about Sam.

  ‘Ring me tomorrow morning, half eight. I’ll let you know then.’ Ella put the phone down and immediately called Sam, but her phone went to voicemail. So did Charlie’s. Ella left a message.

  It was Phoebe who answered when Ella knocked on Hal’s door twenty minutes later. Ella was showered and changed into clean clothes. She had her coat on.

  ‘Darling,’ Phoebe simpered, ‘you’re very early and you won’t need a coat. Hal is cooking for you. Hal,’ she called behind her, ‘your little neighbour is here.’

  Hal came to the door frowning, even then he managed to look hot. ‘Ella,’ he said, ‘I thought we said eight.’

  ‘Yes. No. Well, my friend is in hospital. I need to see her. I’m sorry. Will it keep? Can I come later? I’ll message you.’ She was already running away, heading back down the stairs.

  ‘Yes. It’ll keep, don’t worry. I hope your friend is all right.’

  Ella went straight to the hospital as agreed with Charlie; thank God he had rung her back. Charlie had assured Ella that Sam was fine, but Ella wasn’t convinced, the concern in his voice was apparent even over the phone.

  She steeled herself as she went through the hospital main entrance; the last time she’d been in there was when her mum died. That had been a miserable, horrible time and Ella shuddered at the memory.

  She stood in the lift with ten other people, packed in tight and all impatient to reach their floor. A man coughed, a deep hacking cough that elicited dirty looks from the other lift users and a collective move away from him. Ella found herself crushed into the corner and a man who looked nine months pregnant himself stood on her toe. Ella let out a loud involuntary howl. Everyone in the lift now glared at Ella and moved away from her. Good.

  Ella stood in the corridor next to the maternity ward. She took a deep breath. What would she find? Despite Charlie’s assurances Ella knew that Sam wouldn’t be in here without good cause. A man came towards her clutching the hand of a small boy who was gripping a helium balloon. It’s a girl flashed by her in a haze of pink.

  I should have brought something; grapes, chocolate, anything. Ella felt flustered, annoyed with herself.

  ‘You came then,’ a voice said from behind her.

  Ella spun round.

  ‘Nathan. What are you doing here?’

  ‘Same as you, I should think. Unless you’re having a baby, which obviously I’m not.’

  ‘Not funny. And I wanted to see Sam on my own.’

  ‘And so you shall. I’m just leaving. You’ll have to shoo Charlie away, but I’m sure you’ll manage that.’ He turned and walked down the corridor towards the lift.

  Cussing him under her breath, Ella watched his retreating form; he looked over his shoulder and caught her staring. She marched through the ward doors and stopped.

  There were four beds and Sam’s was by the window. She lay in bed, the covers pulled up. She looked small and pale. Ella felt a catch in her throat; her mum had looked small and pale.

  ‘Ella,’ Charlie called, seeing her hesitate at the door.

  Ella watched as Sam’s head turned slowly towards her, her blue eyes widening. She smiled.

  ‘I’m so sorry,’ Ella rushed forward. ‘I didn’t know. I would have come sooner. Is everything okay? Why didn’t you message me?’ />
  Sam shrugged, didn’t say anything, just kept her lips together.

  ‘Everything is okay, isn’t it?’

  ‘Everything’s fine,’ Charlie said. ‘Just a scare. Now you’re here, Ella, I’m going to grab a coffee.’

  Ella smiled her gratitude at Charlie, watched him leave, then turned back to Sam.

  ‘I’m so sorry about what I said, it was stupid and mean.’

  ‘Me too.’ Sam said, and Ella noticed Sam’s sad eyes, her doleful expression. Sam patted the bed suggesting Ella sit on it.

  ‘Am I allowed?’

  ‘Of course. Sit down.’

  ‘So what happened? Why are you in here? It wasn’t because of our row or the work thing, was it?’

  ‘No. It happened at work the next day. I just fainted. Next thing I know I’m here. They say I have to stay in for a while, complete bed rest. If I’m good, they might let me come home in a few days.’

  ‘I’m so sorry.’

  ‘Stop saying that, Ella. It’s not your fault. I’ve not felt right for weeks. I hope they let me home soon though; it’s very boring being stuck in here. They only let me out of bed this evening, prior to that it was,’ Sam’s voice dropped to a whisper, ‘bedpans. Can you imagine the indignity?’ She shook her head.

  ‘Oh God, that sounds awful.’

  ‘It was. Anyway, on the bright side, I won’t be going back to work again before the baby’s born.’

  ‘I might,’ Ella said, almost to herself.

  ‘What?’

  ‘Go back to work. Tiffy rang me; they’re desperate.’

  ‘Serves them right.’ Sam reached over and grabbed Ella’s hand. ‘You were always too good for that job.’

  ‘I loved that job. Well, I did until…’

  ‘You were always exploited; you carried old Don Perkins too.’ So now Sam wasn’t being her usual HR diplomat.

  ‘Oh, he was all right. At least he never treated me as though I was an idiot. And he never brought in any creative days like Pink Day and Think Day.’

  ‘Or Stink Day,’ Sam added, laughing.

  Relieved, Ella joined in with Sam’s laughter. ‘They’re prepared to pay me double my normal rate. They’d be grateful even if I can only do a few days. Ironic isn’t it? Now I don’t need the money they’re flinging it at me. I haven’t got the time either; I have to move in soon.’