True Colours by Jeanne Whitmee

looked at my watch. ‘Isn’t it time you were knocking off?’
    ‘Normally it would be, yes, but your hubby wanted us to make agood start today so I said we’d do a couple of hours overtime.’
    ‘I see. Give me a minute to put the car away and I’ll put the kettle on.’
    Driving the car round to the garage, I fumed. Where did Rex think the money was coming from to pay these builders? And how dare he go out and leave me to walk in on it without a word of warning?
    In the kitchen, as I waited for the kettle to boil, I took out my mobile again and selected Rex’s number. His phone was switched off and the call went straight to voicemail.
    ‘It’s me. I’ve just got home to find the house full of builders – engaged apparently by you,’ I snapped. ‘Will you ring me as soon as you get this and tell me what the hell is going on?’ I hung up and threw the phone down on the worktop. How dare he do this without talking to me about it first? A voice behind me made me jump.
    ‘Tea up, is it, Mrs T? Me and Jim are spittin’ feathers.’
    ‘Right, coming up.’ I threw a couple of teabags into two mugs and got out the milk and sugar.
    ‘Three sugars each,’ Bob instructed. ‘And if you’ve got any biccies they’ll be gratefully received as they say. Be a while before we get anything to eat tonight.’
    Tight-lipped I got out a fresh packet of biscuits and a plate.
    I sat fuming during the two hours that followed while Bob and Jim banged away upstairs, their portable radio booming out ‘heavy metal’. Finally at about half past seven Bob appeared in the kitchen doorway again.
    ‘Right, we’re off,’ he informed me. ‘Broken the back of that bathroom a treat if I do say it myself. Should finish it tomorrow all bein’ well as they say. We ain’t left you with no lav so you won’t have to get a bucket out.’ He chuckled. ‘We’ll be back bright and early in the mornin’ if that’s OK with you.’
    ‘All right. Thanks, Mr Harris.’
    ‘Oh, call me Bob. Don’t stand on ceremony, don’t me and Jim. Night then, Mrs T. Have a nice weekend.’

    After the men had gone I made myself a sandwich and tried to watch TV but I was too angry to concentrate so I switched it off. Itwas eleven o’clock when Rex finally arrived home. He had clearly had a drink and was in a jovial mood.
    ‘Hello sweetheart. How’s my favourite brunette then?’ He planted a beery kiss on my cheek and began to take off his coat.
    ‘Did you get my message?’ I asked him.
    He looked puzzled. ‘Message?’
    ‘I tried to ring you – about the builders.’ When he still looked nonplussed I sprang up. ‘Rex! Don’t play the innocent with me. What the hell did you think you were doing, engaging builders to do what you’ve had months to do yourself? And doing it without a word to me! Didn’t you think it might have been better to talk it over first?’
    My anger seemed to sober him up. ‘Talk it over? Just look at you now and ask yourself why I did it without telling you. You always bloody overreact to everything.’
    ‘It’s not just a question of overreacting,’ I shouted. ‘How on earth are we going to
pay
for it?’
    He turned away from me, his face sheepish. ‘Is there anything to eat or drink? I’ve had nothing since lunch.’
    ‘Rex! Answer me,’ I demanded. ‘Did you get an estimate from these people? How much is it going to cost, and just where is the money coming from to pay for it all?’
    He waved a dismissive hand. ‘It’s taken care of so you don’t have to worry.’ He walked out of the room but I followed him through to the kitchen where he began looking in the fridge.
    ‘Taken care of –
how
?’
    ‘Is there any cheese?’
    I put a none-too-gentle hand on his shoulder. ‘Rex! Look at me. Tell me the truth. What have you done? If you’ve taken out a loan….’
    ‘I haven’t taken out a loan – well, not officially,’ he mumbled.
    ‘Go on.’ I stood in front of him, blocking the doorway.