okay. I’ve only just got here.’ I sneak a look at the builder as I continue. ‘I’m here to take over as project manager for the refurbishment on Arthur’s Pass.’
If I had any doubts that these guys were my team of builders, they disappear as the eyes before me widen to unnatural proportions.
‘You’re taking over? What happened to Nic?’ He shoots a look over his shoulder, where the others are still playing pool. The younger one is swaggering towards the table, slowly chalking the end of his cue, while the other is shaking his head and telling him he doesn’t stand a chance, but in much more colourful language.
‘There was an accident.’ I hold up a hand as his eyes widen again. ‘Nicole’s okay. Hurt, but she’ll recover.’ I slide off the stool and hold out a hand. ‘I’m Vanessa Whitely’s PA.’ There’s a roar from the pool table as the never-gonna-happen shot does indeed happen. The young lad is jumping around giving a victorious cry, while the older one, still shaking his head, flails his arms around as he tries to convince his pal that it was a complete fluke (again, with more colourful language).
‘You’re Vanessa?’ The builder’s eyes are like saucers as he turns back to me after the interruption. ‘It’s so good to finally meet you after all those emails early on.’ He takes my hand and pumps it up and down, his eyes still very much rabbits-in-headlights wide. ‘You’re probably wondering what we’re doing here, right?’ He gives a chuckle while I simply frown back at him. He thinks I’m Vanessa? The bellowing from his team obviously cut off the end of my introduction, so I’ve been inadvertently upgraded from PA to the boss herself. I’m jolted by the realisation that I was supposed to get in touch with this guy to explain about the Nicole situation and how I – Rebecca – would be replacing her for the last few weeks of the project. Bugger. I never forget to carry out tasks set by Vanessa – I’d be a pretty poor PA if I did – but I did forget to do this during the panic and disorder of the morning. I need to rectify this, and fast.
The laughter dies as the builder lets go of my hand. ‘We’re not slacking off or anything. We went to the house. Waited ages. Even phoned Nic, but there was no answer. So we came here to wait for her. No key, you see. There isn’t much we can do without access.’ He chuckles again, but it’s much weaker this time and he turns towards the pool table. ‘Hey, guys. Get over here.’
‘Run out of cash already?’ The older of the two stops his tirade so he can turn to his boss with a smirk. ‘I’m skint, pal. You don’t pay me enough.’
‘Did you see that shot?’ The other builder grins, his whole face lighting up and somehow making him look even younger.
‘That was nothing.’ The smirk falls from the older builder’s face as he leans over the table with his cue. ‘Check this out.’
I reach out to touch the head builder’s arm lightly, the frown still furrowing my brow. ‘Excuse me, but there’s been some sort of misunderstanding. I’m not …’ My words are swallowed as another roar goes up from the pool table, but instead of victorious, this roar is of the mocking variety. The older builder is elbowed playfully in the ribs as his mate falls about laughing at his terrible shot.
‘Guys! Seriously, get over here.’ The head builder flashes me an apologetic smile. I open my mouth to try to explain who I am – or rather who I’m not – but he’s already turned back to the lads. ‘Come and meet Vanessa Whitely.’ I see his eyes bulge as he attempts to convey the importance of his words. It works like magic. The lads stop mucking about, their faces turning to stone as they stand upright and rush towards the bar, each thrusting their hand at me to shake in turn.
‘Hi Vanessa. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you. I’m Harvey.’ The older of the two pool-playing builders is acting as spokesman as he points out his workmate. ‘And this is Todd.’
‘And I’m Vincent Mancini, obviously.’ The boss shakes my hand again and I see his forehead is starting to shine with sweat. ‘I should have said that earlier. Sorry. You can call me Vince. If you want to, that is.’ He chuckles, though the sound is strained rather than joyful. ‘I’ll answer to anything, really.’
I’m astonished by the reaction my mere presence has caused. Or rather, the reaction Vanessa’s presence has caused. I should clarify who I am, but I’m rather enjoying the power Vanessa clearly holds, so I keep it zipped. I’ll tell them later, obviously, but not until I’ve chivvied them along and got them back to work.
‘Shall we get going then?’ I tap my watch in a way I’ve witnessed Vanessa do many times. ‘We’ve lost half the day already.’
‘But my pint …’ Todd, the youngest builder, looks longingly at the bar. I could relent, let them finish their drinks, but I feel a surge of authority shoot through me, straightening my spine and raising my chin.
‘You can have a pint on your own time, not mine.’
I have no idea where those words came from, but I quite like the firm, assertive tone they’re accompanied by, and I get a real kick when the builders march out of the pub instead of snubbing my request. Being Vanessa is strangely satisfying.
‘I’m afraid I don’t have any of Nicole’s paperwork yet and she’s too poorly for a catch up, so if you could give me a brief rundown of where we’re up to with the project?’
We’re trooping through the village, Vincent and I walking side-by-side while Harvey and Todd are just ahead, having some sort of friendly disagreement that involves a lot of nudging and an attempted wedgie. I’ve explained about Nicole’s condition as best as I can, but now we must get down to business. My career depends on keeping this project on track.
‘Once the plastering’s finished, we’re going to crack on with the fixed flooring. There’s only the hallway, kitchen and the family bathroom on the first floor to do, and we would have made a start already, but like I said, with no access …’ Vincent scratches the back of his neck as we reach the footbridge across the canal.
‘Don’t worry about it.’ Having worked with Vanessa for three years, I know she wouldn’t have appreciated the lack of work, no matter the circumstances, but I really don’t see what he could have done, other than break into the property. ‘We’ve still got a few hours left of the day, so I’m sure you and the lads will do your best to catch up.’
‘Oh, yes. Absolutely.’ Vincent bobs his head up and down rigorously and I realise my words came out with a vaguely threatening tone rather than the placatory one I’d been aiming for. Perhaps being Vanessa has gone to my head a bit. ‘And we’ll put in a few more hours to make up for it.’
‘There’s really no need for that,’ I say, but my words are swallowed by the griping up ahead as both Todd and Harvey put their cases across as to why that won’t be possible. Harvey, it seems, has football training (he plays five-a-side at the park at weekends if I fancy being his cheerleader – short skirt and pom-poms most definitely required) while Todd needs to take his gran to bingo.
Harvey snorts. ‘It’s the other way around, more like.’ He hooks an arm around Todd’s neck and pulls him close before running his knuckles over his scalp. ‘Didn’t your mum get you a personalised bingo dabber for your birthday?’
‘Gerroff.’ Todd wrestles himself free and tries to smooth down his ruffed-up hair. ‘And no, she didn’t. It was from my gran. She’s got one herself.’
Shaking his head, Harvey gives Todd a gentle shove. ‘You’re such a loser.’
I think it’s quite sweet, but I don’t voice my opinion as matching bingo dabbers definitely isn’t something Vanessa would appreciate.
‘You can both stay behind.’ With his shoulders thrown back, Vincent starts to stride ahead across the bridge. ‘Oliver too.’
‘Who’s