Writing for Fun
November 2017
The Handyman - Maureen Rampersaud
The storm was wild. She could hear crashing and banging outside and wondered how much havoc was being created as she sank further under the covers. Tomorrow she would face it . . . tonight . . . she put her earplugs in.
Eerie silence hit her in the morning when she ventured outside. The dustbins were scattered and the kitchen garden had been wrecked. Then she looked up and noticed that several tiles were missing from the roof. She sat down, putting her head in her hands. She had only just renovated the cottage, there was no money left and insurance was still on her ‘to do’ list.
‘Tina, are you alright?’
She looked up to see her dear dad striding up the path. He took her into his arms and let her sob.
‘It’s alright, my girl, I’ll send my new handyman round, he’s a bloody marvel, just moved into the village. It’s my treat.’
John was not what you’d call ‘a conversationalist’. She attempted to chat when she brought his tea but monosyllables were all she got in return. From the window she watched him working on the kitchen garden, amazed by his progress. She had to admit that he wasn’t a shirker, steady and methodical. Suddenly, she was horrified to find herself focusing on his arm muscles as he was digging and raking, she promptly turned away, thinking,
‘For God’s sake, Tina, he’s at least ten years younger than you!’
When the work was all finished, she felt bereft and unsettled. Working from home was all very well but it could get lonely. Not that John was much company, but she’d become used to him being there. At the end of the week, she found herself in the Post Office queue clutching her parcel, when a low, gruff voice in her ear made her jump out of her skin.
‘I miss our cups of tea.’
Tina turned round in amazement, gasping,
‘That’s the longest sentence I’ve heard you say!’
‘Well, Tina . . . how about . . . Can I take you for a cup of tea in The Copper Kettle? That long enough for you?’