Chapter 3

Some things were easy. The router for broadband was already in there, and when the cable was installed they could run it there just as easily as the phone line. Likewise the cordless phone base – no need for change. I dumped my files on the floor and started disconnecting cables. Printer and scanner – they would go, too. I'd replace them with a three-in-one and free up more desk-space.

Half an hour saw the electronics piled in the hall. What else? Lock ... that was okay. Chair could be replaced, though, if I was going to sit it any amount of time each day. I looked round the little room. Fresh paint. It was really gloomy in there. I got out my tablet and started to make notes.

When Lida knocked on the door, I had my laptop open on the desk and papers scattered around. "Come in!"

"Oh ... am I interrupting? I am sorry..."

"No, it's okay. Really. I didn't intend to start work today."

"Dinner is ready. Will you come?"

"Absolutely! I lost track of time. I'm really hungry, Lida."

"You should pace yourself, Mister Brown. Make yourself take a break every hour." I was about to speak, but she went on, "and this room could do with redecorating. It is very dingy." Suddenly, she went white and covered her mouth with her hand. "Oh! I'm sorry! I have been so rude!"

I couldn't help it, I laughed. "Don't worry, Lida. You are absolutely right. Both that I need to pace myself so I don't end up the way I was two or three months ago, and, yes, the room is dingy. I'm going to repaint the walls and ceiling, get some art-work for the walls. In fact," I looked down, "this carpet is a mess, too. May as well go the whole hog. But first, food! Lead on, my dear." That last slipped out, but Lida had turned away so I didn't see her face. Did she notice? Did she react? Object? I didn't know, and I resolved to watch my mouth in future.

The meal was wonderful. Yes, it was well prepared and presented, but what made it just perfect was company. Congenial company. Make that, attractive, intelligent, articulate, congenial company. Not for the first time I regretted that I was twenty years older than my companion, give or take, as I thought. Speaking of taking, I would accept with gratitude what I was given – her company – and do my best to see she achieved what she wanted.

As we finished eating and she boiled the kettle to make tea, she turned to me. "Mister Brown ... you are getting rid of the computer in the hallway?"

"Yes. It will probably go to one of the charities that refurbish equipment for use overseas ... in developing countries. But possibly not as it's old."

"It is cheeky of me, but ... could I use it? I have been using the computers at the University. It would be a convenience to have the use of one here."

"I don't mind at all, but I'd rather you had a later one with an LED screen and up to date software, Lida. You can have the scanner and printer, of course, but the old VDU has to go, and by the time I've bought a new monitor, you might as well have a new computer with it."

"Oh, but I don't want to put you to that expense..."

"Nonsense! The old one was a waste of space and needed replacing. I'll get all the software necessary from work under the firm's licence. I've ordered another anyway, but that will be for confidential data and will have to stay in my office. If it really bothers you, you can help me paint the walls."

"Very well."

"Right now, I think I want to take a cup of tea and relax with some music. Would you like to join me?"

"I think I would, if you don't mind."

As she'd been listening to Tchaikovsky's ballet, I thought she probably was okay with classical and started with Zipoli's 'Elevazione', which I've always found both uplifting and calming, if that makes sense.

The next day I made several calls. The carpet shop for a roll-end of heavy-duty, stain-resistant, beige carpet. The computer shop, where they sold me a second-hand all-in-one computer. "The owner has gone to Australia for three years, and this is hardly used..." And they promised to deliver it, my new work computer and a laser, all-in-one printer (that cost as much on its own as the computer I bought for Lida) that afternoon.

I called at the Decorators' Centre, where I bought vinyl emulsion; some pale creamish colour for the walls and white for the ceiling. I needed rollers and brushes, of course ... remembering that my old ones hadn't survived my last efforts several years previously.

After my walk and a sandwich, I began moving the few items of furniture out so I could rip up the old carpet and wash down the walls. That improved matters a little, but the paint had obviously darkened with age anyway.

But I had time enough to cook some savoury mince and baked potatoes for supper. I considered chilli, but with unusual sense decided that might not be the best thing for a pregnant woman. I was proud that it was timed to be ready half an hour after Lida arrived home. She was impressed with the computer which we put in her room with the old printer and scanner, and after supper we connected everything up.

"When are you going to paint your office?"

"Tomorrow, I think."

"Well, I'm free all morning to help."

At breakfast, Lida appeared wearing ratty jeans and a scruffy t-shirt. The latter was tight across her breasts and despite a bra, her nipples could be made out. The t-shirt had a tendency to slide upwards, revealing a strip of abdomen, and the jeans clearly didn't meet – they were held up by a belt. For the first time I was compelled to notice the evidence of her pregnancy. She was immensely desirable.

We got a first coat on well before lunch and, after panini, Lida left for the University. I went for a walk then got a second coat of emulsion on. With a sigh of satisfaction at my progress, I sank into an armchair in the lounge with project notes. That evening Lida cooked again and then we listened to some Russian music until bedtime – Mussorgsky, Borodin, Rimsky-Korsakov. At the end of 'Pictures at an Exhibition', Lida stood.

"I need to go to bed. Thank you ... Geoff ... for a lovely evening."

"Thank you, Lida. That was a delicious meal."

She bent down, kissed my cheek, and left the room. I sat in the silence, unmoving, for some time before stirring myself and getting off to bed myself.

The following day, the cable was installed in the morning, and a man came from the carpet shop in the afternoon to fit the carpet. Normally, I would have met Lida at the Library, but of course I had to stay in. At least, by the end of the afternoon I had the furniture back in the room and the new computer set up.

Curtains! I knew there'd be something I'd forgotten. Still, they weren't that important. Perhaps a blind would be better anyway? I couldn't get my mind off that kiss, though. Not that I ought to read anything into it – it was the sort of kiss a daughter might give her father – but it was affectionate...

I drifted, and almost before I knew it, Lida was home. I hadn't done anything about supper, and realised it as she entered the room. I leapt to my feet.

"Oh, Lida! I'm sorry ... I was wool-gathering and lost track of time. Are you okay with pizza?"

She stepped up to me and laid a hand on my arm. "Pizza would be fine, but give me half an hour or so and I'll knock up something with pasta, unless you really want pizza?"

I thought about that for about ten seconds. "Well, if you're really okay with cooking, I'm not fool enough to refuse."

She smiled. "Then, if you are not in too much of a hurry, I will have a quick shower before I begin."

Lida is a very good cook. I don't know what you'd call the sauce she made. – I do know it wasn't exactly Bolognese, but it doesn't really matter anyway. It was delicious. After the second mouthful, I asked, "Are you allowed a drink of wine? I have a bottle that would go perfectly with this."