Oh come on, Charlie, please! Ive got no idea what to do here, waters gushing everywhereIm about to flood the neighbours, and you know what Mrs. Robbins downstairs is like, shell be banging on my door with her umbrella before Ive even mopped up! My hands are shaking, I cant even find the stopcock! The voice from the other end of the phone was so shrill and tragic, Harriet could hear every word, even though Charlie hadnt put it on speaker.
Harriet set her fork down on her plate, the clatter sounding loudly in their snug kitchen; it was like the bell at a boxing match, heralding yet another round of a contest shed been competing in for three years now. Charlie sat across from her, chewing his lip and glancing sheepishly from their cooling shepherds pie to the glowing screen of his mobile.
Sally, calm down, he was muttering into his phone. What stopcock? Under the sink or in the loo? Try and switch the water off from the main.
I dont know where that even is! Charlie, youve got to come! Please, Im terrified its boiling hot and about to explode or something! Im all on my own!
Charlies eyes met Harriets with a look shed seen all too often of latea cocktail of plea and defeat.
Haz, you heard that, right? Shes in a right state. Sallys hopeless with anything mechanicallike a child, really. Ive got to go.
Of course you do, Harriet replied levelly, betraying none of the storm raging inside. Its not as if its our anniversary. We definitely didnt plan this evening for a fortnight. And I absolutely wasnt slaving over a hot oven all afternoon. Off you go, Charlie. Go and save Sally. Goodness knows how shed cope without you.
Oh, dont start that, please! Charlie blurted, leaping up and grabbing his car keys. Weve been mates since school, Haz. Shes in a pickle, is all. Ill be back before you know it. If the pie gets cold, just chuck it back in the oven, yeah?
Door slammed. Harriet was alone, the flat thick with the scents of a celebratory dinner and the acrid tang of disappointment. She peered out the window, watching Charlies car screech into the darkness.
Sally. That name had become the third wheel in their marriage. Charlies childhood mate, his pal Sallyshe arrived on the scene rather abruptly after her divorce, and had entrenched herself in their lives ever since. It had started innocentlylifting boxes, installing new broadband. Charlie, ever the good egg and handy at everything, never said no.
But Sallys taste for favours grew steadily more baroque. Flat tyre on the bypass. Bathroom shelf collapse. A wardrobe assembly emergency because clothes are everywhere, darling, Im living like a student! And somehow, this always coincided with Harriet and Charlies rare plans together.
Harriet wasnt a jealous harpy. She appreciated that mateship was all well and good. But even the most weathered British reserve crumbles when your husband keeps dashing off on rescuing expeditions, and Sally, with her artfully tousled hair and smouldering eyes, knew how to play the damsel. She had perfected the Oh help, Im so helpless! act, making Charlie puff up with chivalry.
Harriet packed away supper; her appetite had scarpered. Charlie strolled back in three hours later, filthy but rather chipper about it all.
Blimey, got there just in time! Nearly a flood, Haz. Siphon went madpop round to the all-night for a washer, and Sally was in bits, sipping Rescue Remedy.
At least she gave her valiant hero a cuppa? Harriet asked, flicking through a novel with studied disinterest.
Oh yes, and a slice of cakeshe made an apple crumble. She says sorry for ruining our evening and sends you her love.
Cake, was it Harriet noted mentally. So between failing to find a stopcock and narrowly dodging an indoor swimming pool, she was baking a crumble. Well, thats a revelation.
She kept these thoughts to herself. Rowing would only put Charlie on the defensive, accusing her of being callous and irrational. No, better to get clever. The next time Sally found herself in peril, Harriet resolved, shed go along for the ride.
And wouldnt you know itnext time arrived far too promptly. It was a Saturday and they were off to the countryside. Gorgeous May sun, barbecue marinating in the boot, and in Harriets mind, an idyllic evening on the patio, glass of wine in hand.
Charlies mobile rang as he loaded up the coal. Harriet cringed; she recognised Sallys special ringtone.
Yes, Sal? Sparkswhat do you mean sparking? That bad? Christ, does it smell of burning? Dont touch anything! Throw the trip switches, yeah? Ill be over in a flash.
He ended the call and looked sheepishly at Harriet, who clutched a tray of petunias.
Haz, funny thing
Let me guesssocket problems?
Worse. Fuse boxs sparking, burning smell Shes in a right state, no sparkies from the council on a Saturday, private ones cost a bomb and take forever.
So, the countrysides cancelled? Harriet asked mild as ever, sliding her seedlings onto the pavement.
Not cancelled! Just a small diversion. Ill have a look, call the emergency number if it looks hairy. Only take an hour, promise.
Right, she said curtly, Im coming too.
Charlie nearly dropped the car keys.
What for? Youre not exactly an electrician. Just stay, Ill be right back.
No, Charlie, she said calmly. We go to Sallys, you fix her crisis, and then we carry on. Ive not seen Sally in ages, Ill say hello.
Charlie wilted but couldnt argue. They bundled into the car; Charlie drummed on the wheel all the way, while Harriet radiated the calm of a monk, though she was wound tighter than Bobs clock.
Sally greeted them in a silk dressing gown that barely brushed her knees, full makeup and a bounce in her hips. Her face flickered when she saw Harriet hop out alongside Charlie, lips twitching, but she instantly donned her darling, how lovely! beam.
Harriet! This is a surprise! Ignore the state of me, honestly, Im a messwas in a right flap! Come in, come in. Charlie, my hero, its all crackling away in the hallway!
Inside, the flat smelt faintly of burnt plastic; barely a whiff, nothing the neighbours would notice. Charlie made a beeline for the fuse box, screwdriver already in hand.
Harriet darling, do come in the kitchen. Let the menfolk work, and well have a natter over coffee, Sally trilled, clearly keen to usher Harriet away.
Ill stay, thanks, Harriet replied, gaze steady. Charlie might need me to hold a torch or something.
Hold a torch? Sally giggled. Honestly, Charlie could do this blindfolded, couldnt you, love?
Charlie grunted from behind a tangle of wires.
Sally, Harriet said, watching her closely. Why didnt you ring the buildings emergency service? Thats what theyre fordangerous things like electrics.
Oh, I couldnt! Dreadful men, always tracking mud in, mutter under their breath. But Charliehes safe hands. I trust him completely.
Well, Charlies safe hands were supposed to be skewering sausages today. This was meant to be our little trip out.
Oh dear, I always ruin everything, Sally sighed, palms together in an angelic pose. Being on your own, everything falls apart. Its hard, Harriet. Youre so lucky, so safe.
Fifteen minutes later, Charlie straightened up. Loose contact, bit scorched. Gave it a clean and a tighten, but Sal, youll need to get the switch replaced.
Oh Charlie, you absolute star. Will you get it for me? Ill pay whatever you needinstall it, please?
Charlie wont be able to, Harriet answered briskly. Were off to the country and wont be home till late. And next weekend, were off to the theatre. Best you book an electrician, Sally. Charlie will jot down the part you need.
Sally glowered at Harriet but switched quickly back to Charlie.
At least stay for coffee? Ive got your favourite eclairs
No thanks, were stuffed, Harriet shot back, shepherding Charlie out. Come on, schedules tight.
Once outside, Charlie breathed out, then quickly protested.
Haz, you were a bit harsh, werent you? She meant nothing by it.
Sally hangs off you like a lifeboat, Charlie. You honestly cant see that? The dressing gown, the fluttery eyes. She doesnt need help; she needs an audience.
Oh, for heavens sake! Were mates, thats all. Its not like that.
Right. Best mate ever for DIY, for sympathy, for a bit of male ego preeninga very convenient best mate.
They made it to the countryside, but something gnawed at Harriet. Sally wasnt going away anytime soon; she loved pulling those strings and watching someone elses husband jump.
The grand showdown came two weeks later. Charlie was away on business and expected back Friday night. Harriet was prepping dinner, excited for his return, when her phone buzzed.
Harriet, Ill be late back. Im nearly in town, but Sallys had an accident… sort of. Its urgent.
Whats this disaster then? Harriets voice was all ice. Meteorite through her window?
No She bought a new, heavy curtain rail, tried to put it up herselfbless her, not the brightest moveand dropped it on her foot. Swears its swollen, cant walk. The rails blocking the living room so she cant get past. Wants me to pop in, move it, and pick up some cream from the chemist. I wont be long.
Harriet inhaled slowly. Charlie, listen. Go home. Ill go to Sallys.
You? But why?
Because Im a woman. I know what cream to get, and I can help sort her foot. Youre shattered, you need some dinner. Ill be there in thirty minutes.
Right If youre sure. Dont be cross with her, okay? Shes a bit fragile.
Harriet hung up, opened her laptop, and became a firm practitioner of delegation. She booked the gruffest, most intimidating Handyman on Demand she could find, and got a delivery service to bring painkillers and a support bandage to Sallys. Then she set off.
Arriving outside Sallys, Harriet spied the pharmacy courier just ringing the bell. She intercepted the parcel and headed up. The door was openSally, expecting a knight in shining armour, had left it on the latch.
In the living room, the lights were dimmed, candles flickering, a bottle of Merlot chilling and two glasses ready. Sally was draped over the sofa in that same silk dressing gown, leg extended regally. The curtain rail was, to be fair, on the rug, but in a distinctly un-tragic fashion.
Footsteps alerted Sally. Charlie, is that you? Oh, Im in agony did you get the cream?
Harriet strode in and flicked on the main light. The romance was instantly extinguished, like a disco ending at 10 PM.
Sally leapt up, forgetting the limp.
Harriet?! Wheres Charlie?
Hes home, eating dinner, Harriet replied crisply, setting down the meds. Ive brought what you need. And some help.
What help? I need Charlie! Hes strong, he can put the rail up!
Youll get a proper tradesman for that, Harriet said smoothly.
At that moment, a deep voice came from the hall. Handymangot a job for a curtain rail?
Through here, Harriet called. Curtains in the living room, madam will direct you.
The handyman thudded in, surveyed the scene, got out a power drill.
Concrete wall, gonna need heavy-duty screws. Wheres your stepladder?
Sally went the colour of ketchup. She hissed at Harriet when she could: What do you think youre doing?
Im helping, Harriet said, faux innocent. You needed a hand? Youve got one. Painkillers, a proper handyman All paid, not to worry. Charlies exhausted. And you needed the rail put up. Unless it was Charlie you actually wanted?
Sally sprang up, conveniently free of injury now.
Just leave, will you! Acting all saintly! Charlie will be bored stiff with you soon! He needs excitement, not tea and slippers!
Maybe, Harriet shrugged. But he comes home to me. Meanwhile, youve made up excuses just to lure him over for an hour. Dont you find it a bit degrading? Youre a lovely womango find your own bloke, and stop loitering at someone elses doorstep.
Out! Sally shrieked.
Of course. The jobs paid for. Have a brisk recovery, Sallyyour limp cleared up nicely.
Harriet breezed out, feeling lighter than she had in ages. She hadnt upended a plate over Charlies head, or yanked out Sallys extensions. Shed just solved the puzzle for all parties.
Back home, Charlie was anxiously waiting.
How is she? Badly hurt? I calledshes not answering.
Harriet poured herself a cuppa. Her foots fine. She was up and about. The curtain rails being sorted by a handyman.
Handyman? I could have
Charlie, sit, she interrupted, gesturing at the chair opposite.
He obeyed.
Answer me honestlydid you really not see it? The candles, wine, calls for help only when Im not here, always when we had plans?
Charlie flushed, fumbling crumbs across the table.
Well I probably twigged. Didnt want to believe it. Weve been friends forever. Felt awful saying no while shes all on her own.
On her own? Please. She was wrapping you round her little finger. While you were busy being her everyday saviour, you were robbing time from us. Today I got the full showwine, two glasses, the works. She wasnt waiting for a handyman.
Charlie went scarlet. He recalled all the lingering glances, the little accidental touches, the overblown praise at Harriets expense.
Im so sorry, he said. Ive been a fool.
A bit of a fool, Harriet smiled. But a decent one. And I love you. But from now on, Sally will have the number for Handyman on Demand. If shes bored and lonely, she can ring up her own friends. Youre not her personal cavalry. Deal?
Deal, Charlie agreed firmly. Really, I get it now. Thank you, Haz. God knows what wouldve happened if Id turned up to that romantic little set-up.
Sally never rang again. Not that week nor ever again. Maybe prideor what was leftgot in the way after being outplayed at her own game.
Six months later, Harriet spotted Sally at John Lewis, arm-in-arm with a distinguished gentleman, bags swinging from every designer store. She looked happy enough. Their eyes briefly met. Sally bristled, tossed her hair, and carried on, feigning total ignorance.
Harriet just smiled. She was delighted, really. Sally had found her own fix-it man. And at long last, Harriet and Charlies life was blissfully undisturbed by late-night emergencies involving leaking loos and airborne curtain rails.
Now, their evenings were spent with tea and travel plans, safe in the knowledge that when they set off for a weekend away, they would actually make it. Becauselets be honesteven in the worlds politest culture, sometimes you must put your foot down, no matter how hard the interloper is pretending to helplessness.
If you enjoyed this little tale and agree boundaries matter, feel free to leave a like or subscribe. And tell me in the commentswhat would you have done in Harriets shoes?
