teeth chattering.
‘I know,’ I said, gathering everything together, ‘but at this rate you’ll catch your death and there’s plenty of admin I can be working on at home.’
‘Well, if you’re sure.’
‘I am,’ I told her. ‘This is horrid and it isn’t going to get any better now, is it?’
Chloe decided to cycle back home in the gear she had been working in and, after I’d made a trip to the compost heap, I cleaned up the tools, grabbed my files of paperwork, whistled to Nell, who hadn’t budged from under her blanket and headed back to the square.
I was thinking about what I was going to cook for dinner when I pushed my key in the lock. I’d got a half a bottle of red wine left from the weekend and a couple of sausages from the butchers. A comforting sausage and onion casserole beckoned, with plenty of buttery mash. My stomach growled in response, but as I opened the front door, my excitement to be home shifted to concern because I could tell there was something wrong.
I slipped off my wellies and deposited my files on to the hall table before flicking on the light. Everything looked exactly as it should, but there was definitely something amiss, even if I couldn’t see it.
‘Oh shit,’ I swore as I stepped into the kitchen and found my socks soaked in cold water. ‘Shit,’ I said again, stepping back.
I looked up at the ceiling and was relieved to find there was no damp patch or bulging plaster. The leak was at ground level I realised and most likely from under the sink. It was annoying, but it could have been a whole lot worse.
‘Hey, Luke,’ I said, having quickly called his mobile, after shutting Nell in the sitting room.
‘Hi, Freya, what’s up?’
‘I’m really sorry to bother you,’ I apologised, because I knew he and Kate were having a couple of days away ahead of Winterfest and without the children who were staying with Carole and Graham. ‘I was just wondering if you happened to know where the stopcock is in Harold’s place, my place, I mean.’
‘Why? What’s happened?’ He sounded rather panicked.
‘There’s a bit of a leak,’ I told him, ‘but nothing to stress about. It’s just on the kitchen floor, most likely from under the sink, but I want to get the water shut off, just in case.’
‘Oh crikey,’ he fretted. ‘Um, hang on.’
I heard him say something away from the phone and then Kate took over.
‘Freya?’
‘Yes.’
‘It’s Kate.’
‘Is Luke all right?’ I asked her. ‘It’s really nothing major. I didn’t want to stress him out.’
‘He’s fine,’ she said, ‘he fusses that’s all. We had a ceiling down last year and he’s had a bee in his bonnet about water pipes ever since.’
‘This is absolutely nothing like that,’ I told her. ‘I just need to know where the stopcock is and thought asking you guys might save me some time.’
Given the fuss, I would have been better off looking for it myself. It was most likely located under the kitchen sink, but I didn’t fancy paddling through the chilly water, until I absolutely had to. My feet had been cold enough at work all day as it was.
‘I can’t believe we don’t know this,’ she said, ‘but neither of us do. Have you got a number for Harold? I’m sure he’ll be able to tell you.’
‘Yes,’ I said, wishing I’d gone straight to him instead. ‘Yes, I have his new number. I’ll call him.’
‘Great.’
‘Okay,’ I nodded, ‘and please don’t worry.’
‘I’m not,’ she said over the noise in the background which sounded very much like Luke having a mini meltdown.
‘I’m really sorry,’ I apologised.
‘It’s fine,’ she told me. ‘Ring or message later to let me know how you’re getting on.’
‘Will do.’
As predicted, Harold did know where the water cut-off point was and after assuring him that turning the water off was just a precaution and that the only harm done had been to the kitchen lino, I took a deep breath and prepared myself to seek the stopcock out.
‘This,’ I muttered, as I opened the understairs cupboard door and peered inside, ‘is just my luck.’
The cupboard was dark and musty and it was well over half a metre from the door to the tap. It might not have sounded far, but for someone who hated dark enclosed spaces as much as I did, it looked more like a mile.
‘What on earth’s it doing there?’ I had accusingly asked, when Harold told me where