He shook his head and said, Absolutely not. No idea whatsoever.
Im a bit surprised, I said. Id have thought that his address would have appeared on the contracts.
Cheethams fingers drummed that neat little riff from the 1812 Overture on the bundle of papers. Of course, of course, how stupid of me, I didnt even think of that, he gabbled. Again, he flicked through his papers. I waited patiently, saying nothing. Im sorry, this shocking business has really unsettled me. Here we are. How foolish of me. T. R. Harris, 134 Bolton High Road, Ramsbottom.
I wrote it down, then got to my feet. I didnt feel like someone whos had a full and frank exchange of views, but I could see I wasnt going to get any further with Cheetham unless I had specific questions. And at least I could go for Harris and his solicitor now.
I took a short cut down the back stairs, a rickety wooden flight that always makes me feel like Ive stepped into a timewarp. My spirits descended as I did. I still had some conservatories to check out south-west of the city, and I was about as keen on that idea as I was on fronting up T. R. Harriss brief. But at least I was getting paid for that. The thought lifted my spirits slightly, but not as much as the hunk I clapped eyes on as I yanked open the street door. He was jumping out of a Transit van that hed abandoned on the double yellows, and he was gorgeous. He wore tight jeans and a white T-shirt on a freezing October day, for Gods sake! stained with plaster and brick dust. He had that solid, muscular build that gives me ideas that nice feminists arent supposed to even know about, never mind entertain. His hair was light brown and wavy, like Richard Geres used to be before he found Buddha. His eyes were dark and glittery, his nose straight, his mouth firm. He looked slightly dangerous, as if he didnt give a shit.
He sure as hell didnt give a shit about me, for he looked straight through me as he slammed the van door shut and headed past me into the Corn Exchange. Probably going to terrify someone daft enough not to have paid his bill. He had that determined air of a man in pursuit of whats owed to him. Ah well, you lose some and you lose some. I checked out the van and made a mental note. Renew-Vations, with a Stockport phone number. You never know when youre going to need a wall built. Say across a conservatory