Jack by the Hedge (Jack of All Trades Book 4) by DH Smith Page A

another gate. This, the main one. And the park workers came in and out of the yard just opposite. The Superintendent had come back out, made a cheery remark about the lowering wall and the reclaimed bricks, the manager went out to bully his staff and in to do his paperwork presumably. That woman with the leaf machine had come in once. She didn’t look half so attractive pushing that thing, hunched over and glowering. She’d waved to him but hadn’t mentioned dinner.
    It was just a game, she’d already forgotten.
    The marquee guys had driven past him and left the park, leaving their assemblage in the middle of the lawn. Two of its flaps were open – revealing the empty belly. Awaiting Liz’s display, tables and tablecloths, canapés and the glasses and bottles to keep the nobs merry.
    It could be lonely being a builder. Working on his own all day. Here, he had all the traffic, and wondered which he preferred. It depended on the traffic. Liz anytime, the manager, no thank you. The other woman? Maybe, perhaps. Depending.
    His phone rang. He fished it out from deep in his overall pocket. Could be a customer. He had not much on after this job. Cross fingers. But no – it was his daughter.
    ‘Hello, Mia.’
    ‘Hello, Dad.’
    ‘Shouldn’t you be at school?’
    ‘I am at school. I’m in the library, looking for a book on Mali cattle drovers… The librarian’s in her office. And she can’t see me behind the shelves anyway.’
    ‘She might hear you.’
    ‘I don’t want to talk about the library, but about Tony.’
    ‘Who’s Tony?’
    ‘Mum’s boyfriend.’
    ‘I didn’t know she had one.’
    ‘You’re way behind, Dad. He’s moved in. And he’s a pig.’
    ‘That was quick work. How’s he a pig?’
    ‘The way he eats, the way he talks, his smarmy smile. He’s always touching Mum…’
    What could he say about that? Hadn’t he done the same? Except no kids were present at the time.
    ‘It’s a phase,’ he said. ‘He’s just moved in. Love and all that. He’ll get over it.’
    ‘I hate being in a room with the two of them. The way they smile at each other, touch knees under the table, hold hands while they’re watching TV. They hate me being with them.’
    ‘It’s a phase,’ he could only repeat. Though it was not a situation he’d been in; new lovers with a twelve year old sulking in the wings. What the hell do you do?
    ‘I had to shut their door last night. The noise they were making.’
    Jack chuckled. That would put a damper on their love making.
    ‘You laughing, Dad?’
    ‘Yes.’
    ‘It’s not funny. It’s pathetic. I can’t stand it there. The flat’s too small for three. I’ve only got my room. Mum keeps having a go at me for being in it all the time. Tony bought me a tablet. I’m never going to use it.’
    ‘He’s only trying, Mia.’
    ‘It’s never going to work. He’s a total creep. Oh, here comes the librarian. Talk to you later, Dad.’
    She rang off. He put the phone back in his pocket and picked up the brick he’d been working on before the call. He felt sympathy for all parties. Her new beau wanting sex and love, adult things. Alison ditto. All perfectly natural. And poor Mia, feeling in the way, her mum with less time for her, Tony trying to buy her affection. He could imagine it in that claustrophobic flat in Brighton. He’d been there a number of times to pick up Mia. Fine for two people. Three OK – if they all get on well. But not with Mia in her room, sullen with one word answers. And Alison torn between lover and daughter. He could even feel sorry for his ex.
    Not that sorry. Considering the time she’d given him. And to be fair, he’d given her. Until she put him out on the street with a suitcase. Awful time. Human beings are said to be social animals. So social that he was living on his own. In some ways happier, and some ways not so. Social, antisocial.
    No wonder the rich have massive houses. Dilute the rows and body smells. We need space. We need to