Never Too Late by Suzie Peters

Never Too Late by Suzie Peters

Author:Suzie Peters [Peters, Suzie]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: GWL Publishing
Published: 2020-07-26T16:00:00+00:00


“If you don’t mind me asking, where did you find out about us?” The man on the end of the phone sounds pleasant enough and has listened attentively while I’ve explained my requirements.

“My boss recommended you,” I reply.

“Your boss being…?”

“Trevor Cole, at Cole and Simpson.”

I’ve been asking around at work all morning, and Trevor overheard me, and suggested I should try Barclay and Sons, telling me they had an excellent reputation, so I’m taking advantage of a quiet lunch break to make the call.

“So you’re an architect?” he guesses; after all, I might be a secretary, or the office cleaner.

“Yes. I’m probably your worst nightmare as a client,” I joke and he chuckles.

“Not at all. At least you’ll know what you want… and I’m sure you’ll agree, there’s nothing worse than an indecisive client.”

“Oh, absolutely. I couldn’t agree more.”

“We’ll need to come and see your property,” he says and I hear the clicking of a keyboard. “I’ll just have to check Adam’s diary.”

“Adam?”

“Yes. He’s my son. He basically runs this place now. I just answer the phones. I’m too old for gallivanting around these days.”

“I’m sure that’s not true,” I say and he chuckles again.

“I’ll be giving you a discount, if you’re not careful.”

“So, you’re not too old to do the costings then?” I continue the light-hearted banter.

“I’m not too old to check them over every so often, no.” He pauses. “Adam’s got a slot available tomorrow morning, actually. At eleven, if you’re free.”

“I’m sorry. I’m not available during office hours…”

“Of course you’re not,” he says. “Silly me. See? I told you I was getting old… well, what about later on in the afternoon, then? What time do you get home?”

“I’m usually back by five-thirty at the very latest.” In reality, I’m normally home before that, but I like to allow myself a few minutes to get in the door, kick off my shoes and get changed out of my work clothes before I actually have to do anything.

“Okay then, I’ll get Adam to come by and see you at six o’clock tomorrow evening, shall I?”

“Are you sure? I mean, that’s very kind of you… well, of him.”

“Oh, don’t worry about it. Adam won’t mind.” He pauses again and I hear him typing. “Now, I suppose I’d better have your name,” he says.

“Oh yes… sorry. It’s Ms Downing.”

I can’t refer to myself as ‘Mrs’ anymore, because I’m not married, but I feel myself cringe as I say Scott’s name. When Jacob started nursery school – which feels like a lifetime ago now – Scott and I were still just about legally married and, although I’d toyed with reverting to ‘Drake’ many times, Jacob’s name is ‘Downing’. He was already so confused and upset by the whole situation that I didn’t want to make things worse, and so I gave my name as Downing too, and I’ve stuck to it ever since. For his sake. No matter how much I hate hearing Scott’s name on my lips, I can’t escape the fact that Jacob needs at least some sense of stability, and for that alone, it’s worth it.



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