My husband had been away for a month on a business trip, and he was due back soon.
One day, while he was still gone, the kitchen tap started leaking. Emily came over to me and asked if I could help. Im hopeless with that sort of thing, so I gave her the number of a plumber Id used before.
They made an appointment, and the plumber turned up right on time. Shed sorted out the cash for him beforehand, just like theyd agreed. Once hed finished the job, she handed him the money.
“You’re £300 short,” he suddenly said. “But we agreed on a different amount, and Ive actually got a neighbour who can confirm it. I can call them over right now.”
“I couldnt care less about your witness. I want £550 from you. If you dont pay up, Ill break the tap and shut off your water.”
“But I dont have that much on me,” Emily pleaded, “I can pay you the rest when my husbands back.”
“Whens that, then?” he demanded.
“In five days”
“No, thats not going to do. I need the money now. Ill wait.”
“But I honestly dont have anything else!”
“Then lets find another way,” he said, pressing further. “You still have to pay for the work Ive done!”
Next, he started rummaging through the cupboards.
“What do you think youre doing in my flat?” Emily shouted. “Ill call the police!”
“Go ahead,” he sneered, “and Ill tell them you refused to pay me.”
It was at that point he began harassing her, and she screamed. I was home at the time and, hearing her cry out, I sprinted over to my neighbours. The plumber had her pinned up against the wall, not letting her go.
“Get off her!” I yelled.
“She owes me money!” he shot back.
“Emilys honest. Here, take £250. What more do you want?” I said, thrusting the money towards him.
“And dont forget, youre responsible for your own actions. If Emilys husband, the boxer, finds out what happened, youll regret it.”
That did itthe plumber bolted out the door. I apologised to Emily for handing over the number in the first place. We agreed not to mention any of this to her husband, to save him the worry. Now were on the lookout for a proper plumbermy own taps dripping againFor days afterward, Emily and I kept a wary eye out, flinching every time there was a knock at our doors or footsteps in the hallway. But the plumber never returned. In time, the tension eased, replaced by a secret camaraderiean unspoken bond forged in the heat of that frightening afternoon.
When Emilys husband finally came home, he found the kitchen tap working perfectly and his wife busier than ever with the usual routines. We exchanged a little smile when he asked if anything exciting had happened in his absence. “Nothing much,” Emily replied, squeezing my hand under the table.
From then on, we made a vow to always help each other, but to thoroughly vet any new repairmen. And though we never told her husband the full story, our whispered laughter and side glances became our silent celebration of courageand the knowledge that, sometimes, the strongest thing you can do is stand together.
