Christmas for One: No Greater Love (7 page)

‘I bet.’ Meg sympathised, liking Juno’s attempts at keeping order.

‘We’ve tried every way we can think of to get around it, but the problem is Mr Redlitch, who lives in the apartment above. He won’t answer his door or respond to calls or letters. Mrs Pakeffelar two doors down is his friend from the bridge club and thinks he may have gone to stay with his daughter, Nancy, in Boca Raton. Apparently he goes for long periods, otherwise he can’t cope with the journey and why wouldn’t you go for a long time, weather’s gotta be better than here, right?’ Juno held her upturned palms in the air.

‘Right.’ Meg nodded although she wasn’t entirely sure what she was agreeing to. Juno spoke very quickly and her hand gestures were a little distracting. ‘But what’s our ceiling got to do with Mr…?’ Meg had lost the thread and was busy wondering where Boca Raton was.

‘Redlitch,’ Juno prompted.

‘Yes, Mr Redlitch.’

Juno sighed again. It clearly wasn’t the first time she had recounted the story. ‘He owns the apartment above and we need access to finish the electrical work. The architect thought it could all be done from this side…’ She pointed upwards. ‘But apparently it was a false ceiling with a botched electrical job done decades ago, so the wiring’s old and messy. We need to pull up Mr Redlitch’s floor and come from the top down to sort it all out. That’s if we can get his permission, which we still haven’t—’

‘Because he’s gone to stay with Nancy,’ Meg concluded.

‘Right.’ Juno nodded.

The two stared silently at the ceiling as if, if they stared long enough, a solution might present itself.

‘I’m probably stating the obvious, but does anyone have a number for Nancy?’ Meg was in full solution mode.

Juno shook her head. ‘No. We thought of that, of course. I even tried buttering up the building superintendent to let me in. I figured we could get in, pull up the floor and have everything back in place before Mr Redlitch came home – he’d never suspect a thing!’

Meg pulled a face at Juno’s cunning, concerned and impressed in equal parts.

‘But he cited some clause at me about violating people’s property and breaking and entering, yadda yadda…’

‘So we can’t get the lighting done until Mr Redlitch appears or we get hold of Nancy’s number?’ Meg placed her hands on her hips.

‘That’s about the sum of it.’

‘And we have no lighting until that time?’

‘It’s not just that: no ceiling lighting and no lit displays, but also no electrical safety certificate. And without that, no general liability insurance, meaning we can’t let the public set foot over the door.’ Juno inhaled strongly.

‘Shit,’ Meg muttered under her breath.

‘Yes, shit. A couple of the kitchen team are getting jumpy, worried that we aren’t going to open and that their jobs are in jeopardy. No one wants to be out of work three weeks before Christmas. I keep telling them everything is fine, but I guess they’re worried that if we can’t get up and running, it might never get off the ground.’

‘Are you worried too, Juno?’ Meg looked her in the eye.

The girl tilted her oval face towards her narrow shoulder. ‘A little, I guess.’

‘Well don’t be. I promise you we
are
going to open, no matter how long it takes. I’ll have a word with everyone else individually.’ Meg started to mentally rehearse the reassurances. This was far more than a hand-holding project. ‘And where is the architect? I can’t believe we are in this mess at this point so close to opening.’ The firm of architects responsible for the design and fit of the building was also overseeing the project and sending regular reports back to Milly and Pru in the UK.

‘I asked him to meet us here.’ Juno looked at her watch. ‘I know he’s crazy busy though. Seems at this time of the year everyone wants things finished.’

Meg lifted down a couple of the chairs from the stack by the wall and ran her fingertips over the dusty seat before sitting down. ‘I don’t care about everyone else’s projects. I only care about ours.’

She once again looked up at the ceiling and the electrical vines hanging down. They made the room look part cable factory, part jungle. Meg breathed deeply, trying to calm her pulse. Her palms were clammy despite the cold. She hoped she would know what to do, hoped she’d be able to find the answers and get the place up and running. It was a familiar feeling of not wanting to let Milly and Pru down and wondering if she was good enough to get the job done. Pru’s words drifted into her head:
‘You can do anything you put your mind to, Meg. You are smart and if you don’t know what to do straight off, you’ll figure it out.’
Meg lifted her chin and opened her case. It was important to convey confidence and leadership to Juno and the team.
Yes. I will figure this out.

The two spent the next couple of hours running through the training programme for the serving staff, who were all on standby, waiting for a start date.

Juno fidgeted with strands of hair that had worked loose from her bun. ‘The problem we have is that even though the staff are super keen, some might begin looking for other jobs and there are more available at this time of year than any other, even if they’re only temporary. My worry is they might take temp work rather than hang around waiting for us and then we will have lost them for the opening and will have to start the hiring process all over again.’ She put her head in her hand, depressed at the prospect.

Meg knew how time-consuming and tedious that whole process could be. ‘Well, we shall have to let them start right away. Let’s get them involved in the setting-up of the premises and begin table training and, more crucially, let’s start paying them – it’s only a few weeks early. It might cost us in wages, but it will save us money in the long-term. At least they’ll be fully on board, reassured and invested in the project if they’ve been here since the very beginning and watched it open.’

Juno bobbed her head, relieved. ‘That’s great, Meg.’

‘You see?’ Meg smiled. ‘There is nothing we can’t sort with a bit of team work!’

‘Oh good –finally!’ Juno directed her gaze over Meg’s shoulder. ‘Here’s Mr Architect!’

Meg glanced at her watch. It was nearly 11 a.m. She watched Juno’s cheeks flush ever so slightly at the sight of the architect. Meg turned and came face to face with the man in whom she would have to trust as he guided her through the process of sorting the electrics and getting the whole venture up and running, in time and on budget. She looked on as he dumped his brown leather satchel and yellow hardhat on the floor.

The man took a step forward and held out his hand. ‘Edward Kelly – Edd.’ He beamed, eyes shining, a beacon of confidence.

Meg placed her palm against his and looked him up and down.
You have got to be kidding me.
Her face fell and her shoulders sagged. ‘Poppins, Mary Poppins.’

‘Ah! Yes, that…’ He looked at the floor and sucked his breath in through his clenched teeth.

‘Yes, that. And for your information, I had literally just landed.’ She enjoyed watching him squirm.

‘Well, that explains why you were so tired.’ He tried to break the ice, putting his hands on his hips and nodding slightly.

‘That’s right. Tired, not dallying,’ Meg whispered. She noted his sturdy tan Timberland work boots, jeans, white T-shirt and favoured denim shirt, over which he wore a navy pea coat, buttoned up against the cold weather.

Edd dropped her hand and removed his coat, which he placed over the back of Meg’s chair. The sleeves of his shirt were again rolled above his dark, freckled forearms, despite the season. He indicated the door over his shoulder with his thumb. ‘Can we rewind and start over?’

‘What, all the way back to last night?’ she asked, conscious that Juno was all ears.

‘Well, no, I was thinking just the last few minutes, give myself a chance to do over.’

‘“Do over”?’ Meg looked confused.

‘A “do-over” is where you get to start again from the beginning, usually because you did it badly the first time,’ Juno explained.

‘Oh.’ Meg looked up. ‘A do-over…’

‘What do you call it?’ Edd asked.

‘We just say, get it right the first time, you muppet.’ She allowed the smallest smile to form on her lips.

‘“Muppet” as in…?’ Edd rolled his hand, hoping for clarification.

‘As in Miss Piggy, Kermit, Gonzo and gang.’

The two stared at each other and then the floor. Juno coughed. ‘Shall I go get us all some coffee?’ she offered with a wistful air. Clearly the newly arrived Brit had made far more progress with Mr Architect in the last twenty-four hours than she had in over a month.

‘Please.’ They both nodded at her in unison.

‘What about something to eat?’ Juno ventured.

Meg felt a ripple of hunger in her stomach. ‘Oh, yes please, a good firm golden croissant that hasn’t been anywhere near shrink-wrap. Yes!’ She clicked her fingers imagining the breakfast she craved. ‘Organic honey to dip it in would be perfect. Or some warm brioche, the ones that pull apart with ease, chocolate preferably, but only if they’re warm. Or a muffin, any flavour, but definitely one of the big greasy ones with something drizzled on top. You know the ones?’ She turned to Edd. ‘They are mass-produced with too much corn oil, keeps them softer and fresher for longer, but it leaves that small slick of grease on your lips – my guilty pleasure! They need to be washed down with strong black coffee to balance the sweetness.’ She looked back to Juno. ‘In fact, get me all three, would you? I’m absolutely starving!’ She rubbed her stomach, having no difficulty in voicing exactly what she wanted to eat. She smiled, vindicated.

Juno beamed, knowing that Meg was a kindred spirit. It was rare to find someone whose whole demeanour was elevated simply through describing baked goods!

‘And for you, Edd?’ Juno asked as she headed for the door.

‘Just the coffee.’ He smiled, a little sheepishly.

‘Sure. Is that flat white? Latte? Tall black?’

Edd looked at Juno and then Meg. He could swear this was a conspiracy. ‘Just a regular white coffee, thanks.’

Juno crept from the room and out onto the street.

Edd sighed and ruffled his hair. ‘I’m sorry if I offended you last night. It had been one helluva day. I’d been here for nearly twelve hours and hadn’t eaten a thing. I was just letting off steam. You’re Megan Hope, right?’

Meg nodded. ‘Right.’

‘My client and effectively my boss.’ He ran his palm over his chin and open mouth, shaking his head. His eyes crinkled as he smiled.

The muffins and coffee restored Meg’s wellbeing and the trio now sat at one of the bistro tables with the blueprints for the building spread out in front of them. Edd had pulled his tortoiseshell square-framed glasses from his top pocket and, with the end of his propelling pencil against the paper, was talking Meg through the issues.

‘So you see how it’s gone from being an easy job into this nightmare? It’s often the way: the complex aspects of a build glide along, only for the small unforeseen snags to escalate into a drama. I’m aware that this is costing us all time and money.’

Meg knitted her fingers together in front of her, business-like. ‘How long do you think it will take to get everything fixed once we get access?’

Edd tapped his pencil on the drawing. ‘I’ve got the contractors on standby. A day. Two days, max.’

Meg sipped her coffee, then slammed the Styrofoam cup on the tabletop and gasped, ‘Oh my God!’

‘What? What’s wrong?’ Edd and Juno asked in unison.

Meg slapped her forehead lightly. ‘I have just had an idea that is either complete genius or extreme madness. I’m not sure which.’
You can do anything you put your mind to, Meg.

‘And are you going to share it with us?’ Edd removed his glasses and sat back in the chair, intrigued.

Meg turned to Juno. ‘Do you have the superintendent’s number?’

Juno nodded. ‘It’s in my cell.’ She jumped up to retrieve the phone from her bag.

Edd stared at the crazy English woman who was talking in riddles. Juno flipped open the cover of her phone and let her fingers slide down the list of numbers.

‘Can you get him on the phone for me?’ Meg cocked her head and smiled before popping the last bite of muffin into her mouth.

A couple of hours later, Meg stood on the pavement and patted her hair behind her ears. She licked her lips, which were dry with nerves, and sucked spit from her cheeks to unstick her tongue from the roof of her mouth. Her hands were shaking. Was she really going to do this?

The man approached slowly. When she was able to tear her eyes away from the thin combover of hair on his balding head, she focused on the vast bunch of keys swinging from the belt loop on his khaki-brown trousers.
Come to Mumma!
She smiled. From a similar loop on the opposite side to his keys hung a torch. The paunch of his belly sat over the top of his waistband and was barely contained within the shirt buttons that strained under the tension. Where the material gaped, pouches of white flesh that sprouted dark hairs could be seen. His shirt and trousers were of the same material and from a distance she wondered if he was wearing an ill-fitting jumpsuit. A large white cotton patch was sewn above his breast pocket, edged in red and with his name embroidered in a red scroll font: ‘Victor’.

‘Victor?’ Meg smiled sweetly as she stepped forward.

‘Yup.’

Meg noted how Victor’s bottom lip rose up over his top lip as he stood with his legs splayed and his fingers twitching down by his thighs. He looked like a petulant gunslinger.

‘Thank you for coming down here to meet me. I really appreciate it. Juno, the girl in the café, had your number, thank goodness, or I don’t know what I would have done!’ She simpered, figuring that if Edd had seen fit to flirt with her the night before, it couldn’t be that hard to woo Victor. She just hoped he didn’t see the sweat that peppered her top lip or notice the tremor to her voice.

‘You not from round here?’ Victor tilted his head to one side.

‘No. England, as I said on the phone, I’ve come to visit my grandpa and I can’t believe he’s not here. Must have gone to my mum’s.’