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long think about this place, Danny,’ Hayley continues, her voice taking on what I like to call the ‘teacher’s tone’. ‘Don’t just dismiss the idea of renovating it so you can avoid doing any work.’
    I start to open my mouth to protest, but the daggers in her eyes are even sharper now, so I think better of it.
    ‘Just think about it overnight, okay ?’
    ‘Alright, alright. I will,’ I agree, despite myself.
    ‘Good.’ She looks at her watch. ‘I’m babysitting for a friend in half an hour, so I’m going back to the car.’
    ‘Through the house?’ I say with mock horror, trying to lift the atmosphere a bit.
    Hayley’s having none of it. ‘Yes, Dan. Through the bloody house.’
    And with that, she walks back through into the kitchen, and towards the front of the property.
    I heave a sigh. One of these days, I’ll learn to think before I speak. Probably on my deathbed.
    Hayley’s car is already gone by the time I get back to the motorbike.
    I shouldn’t be that surprised really. My sister is one of those people who take a long time to come back off the boil once you get them riled up.
    I can only hope she’s forgiven me, and is in a better mood the next time I see her.
    The twenty-minute ride back to town through the leafy country lanes gives me time to think about what my sister had just said. Pretty much all of my family are of the opinion that I am a lazy slacker, based on the last five or six years of my life since I left university. But I can’t help it if the jobs I get are dull, or the girlfriends I have are too controlling, can I?
    And as for this house . . . I don’t think Hayley realises just what she’d be getting us into if we do try to renovate it. I’ve seen enough episodes of Great Locations to know that it’s never easy, never cheap, and is back-breaking work for the most part. Do I really want to spend the summer painting that shithole?
    But then I see that look of disappointment in Hayley’s eyes again – swiftly followed by the hurt at the mention of Simon’s name.
    Christ .
    When I get back to the flat, my head is still buzzing. Usually a nice ride clears it, but not today.
    I don’t really taste my hastily thrown together beans on toast, nor do I enjoy the cigarette I have after them. I just keep seeing Hayley’s disappointed face floating in front of my mind’s eye.
    Fuck it.
    I’m going to have to learn how to lay bricks, aren’t I?
    I pick up my phone and dial my sister’s number. She doesn’t answer, and it goes to her voicemail. Hayley always answers her phone. She’s obviously still angry with me.
    ‘Hi, sis,’ I say after the beep, ‘I just wanted to say sorry again for bringing Simon up like that. It wasn’t fair of me.’ I pause for a moment. ‘And, if you want to renovate that house, then I’m in . . . I guess. Give me a call when . . . when you want to. See you later.’
    It only takes her ten minutes to call back, so she can’t have been that mad after all.
    ‘You really want to do this?’ she asks warily.
    ‘Yeah, yeah. I do,’ I reply, trying to sound convincing. ‘Six hundred thousand is a lot of money.’
    ‘It’ll be hard,’ she cautions. ‘All our time will be taken up with it.’
    ‘I know.’
    ‘And you’ll need to help me with all the admin stuff like calling people, filing documents, paying bills.’
    Shit. I’d forgotten about the admin. Trying to build a brick wall is one thing, but admin work is quite another. It’s the main reason I quit that job with the Halifax. I’ve committed myself now, though, haven’t I?
    ‘Yes, yes. I know,’ I say through gritted teeth. ‘I’m up for it.’
    ‘Great! Then we’ll get together tomorrow morning to chat about it a bit more. Ten o’clock at the Long Café?’ Hayley’s voice is lighter and brighter again – and all it took was for me to agree to months of back-breaking labour.
    ‘Yep. Sounds good to me. See you tomorrow.’
    I end the call and throw the phone