The House on Cold Hill

31

Ollie had a hectic morning, dealing first with amendments to the Cholmondley website, followed by a lengthy Skype conversation with his new client, Anup Bhattacharya, on the content of his website. He was also pleased to see three new enquiries come in, following his visit to all the stands at the Goodwood Revival last weekend. In someway she was glad of the distractions of work, but he badly needed time to think.

At least with a blue sky and sunshine outside, the house felt more welcoming and normal than it had during the early hours of this morning. He’d called Caro a couple of times to see how she was, but only got her voicemail. He’d also called the previous vicar of Cold Hill, the Reverend Bob Manthorpe, and had left a message on his voicemail. Now, at 1.45 p.m., having just got off the incredibly long-winded conference call, he was hungry and went downstairs to grab himself some lunch.

The house was a hive of activity, which he was glad about. As he entered the kitchen he saw the head of the building firm, Bryan Barker, in discussion with his foreman, Chris.

Barker, in a lumberjack shirt, jeans and heavy-duty boots, was an affable, energetic man with a dense crop of silver hair and youthful good looks that belied his sixty-seven years.

‘Ah, Ollie,’ he said. ‘I was about to come up and see you. Chris is very worried about the cellar. There are two structural walls down there in extremely bad shape.’ He gestured to his foreman, a lean, pensive and pleasant-natured man in his thirties, to continue.

‘We’re going to have to hire a structural engineer, Mr Harcourt,’ the foreman said. ‘I think we need some Acrow props urgently. I’ll show you where I mean.’

Ollie followed them both down the brick steps into the cellar. Bryan Barker pointed to a large space which led through to the disused kitchen. There had clearly been a wall here at some point. ‘This is what we’re worried about.’

The foreman pointed up. ‘It looks to me as if the developers who were working here before they went bust, as I understand, had taken down a wall to open this space up. But the problem is, this is a main load-bearing wall.’ He then pointed at several large cracks in the ceiling. ‘I’m not at all happy about these,’ he said. ‘We’ve only discovered them since removing the plaster here. I don’t want to alarm you, and I can’t be certain, but I’m pretty sure these have widened in the last few days.’

‘If any of them went,’ Barker chipped in, ‘it could have a domino effect on all the floors above. It could literally bring down the entire house — this part of it, anyway. I think we should get an engineer out here quickly.’

‘How much would he cost?’ Ollie asked, gloomily, knowing that underpinning was unlikely to come cheap.

‘I think he’d come out for a site visit without charge. Then it would depend on how much work he has to do. I really don’t think you have any option.’

‘Why the hell didn’t the surveyor mention this in his report?’

‘He did.’

The foreman nodded, adding his confirmation too.

‘Shit, did I miss it?’ Yet another thing Ollie realized he had missed — or at least had misinterpreted. There was so much wrong that after a while his eyes had glazed over each time he’d reread the report. He and Caro, who had red-penned a copy of it, realized in the end they were going to have to take a view. Buying the house was a gamble — a massive gamble. They both knew it and they took the risk, thinking they could just do a small bit at a time, room by room. But it hadn’t occurred to him — and he was certain not to Caro either — that the place could actually be in real danger of falling down.

‘I don’t suppose we’ve any chance of getting any of this on insurance?’ Ollie asked.

‘Not a hope in hell, I shouldn’t think,’ Barker said.

The foreman shook his head.

‘OK,’ Ollie said. ‘You’d better do it.’ Then he hesitated. ‘Bryan, when you have a moment, could you come upstairs and take a look at something for me?’

‘Of course. Want to do it now?’

As Ollie led the way up to the attic bedroom, Barker suddenly asked him, ‘Were they relatives of yours or Caro’s who were here earlier?’

Ollie stopped and turned. ‘Relatives? Here earlier? Who do you mean?’

‘The couple with two small children.’

Ollie frowned. ‘Couple with two small children? I didn’t have any — visitors.’

‘About an hour ago. He had a big cigar. I thought he must know you pretty well to be smoking in your house!’

Cigar. Ollie was thinking back to last night. The middle of the night. The smell of cigar smoke in the room before the bed had rotated. Barker had seen something, he realized. But he didn’t want him getting spooked, and perhaps telling his workmen, and risk some of them leaving. Equally, he knew that Bryan Barker was no fool.

‘Oh, right, yes, Caro’s brother and his family popped in briefly to see her — so I gave them a quick tour,’ he lied. Then he carried on up the stairs to the attic and went in first. The clock radio still lay on the floor. Caro had stripped the bed — there was no way they were going to sleep in this room again, although he hadn’t yet figured out where they would sleep tonight. The spare beds they’d brought from Carlisle Road were all dismantled and stacked, at the moment, in the library. They would probably have to make do on the sofas. Barker had a full team working on the ceiling repair and was confident they’d be able to move back into their bedroom by tomorrow afternoon.

‘I’ve not been up here before,’ the builder said. ‘What a very pretty room. Reminds me of a little hotel in France where Jasmin and I stayed some years ago!’

‘That’s funny,’ Ollie said, grinning, but feeling very uncomfortable being back here, despite the bright daylight streaming through the window. ‘Caro and I said the same thing — it’s just like a place we stayed in a few years ago, near Limoges.’

‘Beautiful old bed — a real antique. Worth a few bob.’ Then Bryan Barker frowned. ‘A bit odd, though. I would have put it the other way, facing the window rather than the door.’

‘Actually,’ Ollie said, guardedly, ‘that’s what I wanted to discuss with you. How easy would it be to rotate it — a hundred and eighty degrees — without dismantling it?’

‘Rotate it a hundred and eighty degrees?’

‘Yes.’

Barker looked at the bed, around at the walls and up at the ceiling. Then he pulled an industrial-looking tape measure from his back pocket and measured the length, width and height of the bed. Next, he did the same for the room dimensions. When he had finished he did some mental calculations. After some moments he shook his head. ‘Wouldn’t be possible, Ollie, not without taking it apart.’

‘Are you sure?’

‘Absolutely sure.’

‘How easy would it be to take it apart?’

Barker lifted one corner of the mattress and looked at the nut. ‘Doesn’t look like this has been touched in years.’ Then he checked around the entire bed, lifting each corner of the mattress in turn. When he had finished he said, ‘Well, it all comes apart. The easiest way would be to unscrew and reverse the headboard and the footer as they’re not welded to the frame.’

‘And if we actually wanted to rotate the entire bed?’

The builder gave him a puzzled look. ‘The legs would come off all right, with a bit of effort, but that still leaves the frame.’ He thought for some moments, looking even more puzzled. ‘If we took all four legs off, then we could rotate the frame — but —’ he shook his head — ‘it’s just over two metres long. The room is just under two metres wide.’ He opened one of the cupboard doors and peered inside. Then he stepped back. ‘We’d have to chop out the cupboard doors and then remove all the shelves. The only way would be to remove the legs, then take the frame out of the room, down the stairs, turn it and bring it back up again. But why do you want to make it so complicated?’

‘There’s no way two people could rotate this bed, in this room, on their own and without tools?’

‘Not in a million years,’ Bryan Barker said. ‘If it’s not a personal question, why are you asking?’

Ollie smiled. ‘I’m not very good at spatial stuff. Caro and I had a bet about it last night.’

‘And you reckoned it could be done?’

He nodded.

‘Hope you didn’t put too much money on it. I need you to pay my bills!’

Ollie stared warily around the room, wondering silently, as he had been all morning. What had happened in here last night? What the hell had happened in here?

Then he patted the builder reassuringly on the shoulder. ‘Relax, I didn’t bet the ranch.’

‘I’m glad to hear it.’