Richard reattached the smoke detector to the kitchen ceiling. He climbed off the chair, and then noisily slid it back under the kitchen table. Picking up the two other smoke detectors, he started for the hallway. Just as he approached the doorway, he noticed the dreaded chair. He stopped for a moment, trying to push away a shudder, and continued on toward the staircase.
Arriving at the foot of the stairs, he climbed the first few steps, reached over to the hallway ceiling, and proceeded to reattach another detector, placing the other one on the step.
“Well it’s about time too,” Nicky said, passing him as she headed downstairs, wearing only a pink dressing gown, with her long brown hair tied back tight in a ponytail.
“Yeah, I know—sorry,” he struggled to say, as he slotted the second detector into place. “There we go,” he proudly said, as he stared up at his accomplishment. “Just one more left.”
“Well done you, babe,” she said, sarcastically. “Only took you a month.” She then carried on through to the kitchen.
Picking up the last remaining smoke detector, he ascended the stairs to the landing.
He dragged the desk chair out from the office and positioned it under the missing detector. The chair wobbled as he mounted it, and he had to use the wall for support.
“You be careful,” Nicky said as she walked up the stairs toward him. “Don’t want you breaking your neck.” She entered the bathroom, leaving the door wide open. “Not today anyway.”
“Thanks, babe,” he said, sarcastically, as he reached up to the high ceiling, almost losing his balance in the process. “I’ll try not to.”
“Have you phoned your mother back yet?” she said, applying her mascara in the bathroom mirror. “She’s been calling all weekend. I don’t want her to think that it’s me not giving you the messages.”
“Yes, I’ve called her.”
“Are you sure?”
Frowning as the plastic device clicked into place, he replied, “Of course I’m sure. How could I not be sure?”
“Well, I know how you like to forget things—especially calling your parents.”
Richard jumped off the unstable chair and landed with a loud thud onto the carpet. “I did call her. She just wanted to know if I’ve been to see my uncle for his birthday yet.”
“And have you?”
He wheeled the chair back into the office. “Not yet, no.”
“And why not?” she asked, her tone clearly playful.
“Because it hasn’t exactly been on the top of my priorities lately.” Stepping back out onto the landing, he leaned against the bathroom doorframe, looking at Nicky. “And besides, when was the last time he paid us a visit? Not for ages. So why should I worry about it? My mother just needs something to moan about. If it wasn’t my uncle’s birthday it’d be something else. You know what she’s like. She’s just looking for an excuse to call us. In fact, I don’t think I’ve had a card off him since I was fifteen. And even back then there was never any money in it, not even a bloody gift-voucher. Never give a kid a birthday card unless you put some money in it. Otherwise, what’s the point?”
“If you say so.” She slipped the mascara back into her pink makeup bag and pulled out a lipstick. “I still think,” she applied the lipstick to her top lip, “you should at least give him a quick call.”
He shrugged. “Yeah, maybe a text message, or even a—” But before he could finish his sentence, there was a knock at the door.
Nicky turned to him, grimacing in confusion. “Who’s that?”
“How the hell should I know—I’m not psychic.”
“Can you get it—I’m half-naked. And I look a mess.”
“Fine,” he replied as he headed for the staircase.
Walking downstairs to the front door, he wondered who it could be. Please not my parents, he thought. Anyone but them. He took hold of the handle and swung the door open. Richard gasped when he saw the person standing out in the blazing sunshine, clutching the handles of a blue baby-buggy.
“Carl,” Richard said, his eyes wide with surprise. “How are you?”
“I’m all right,” Carl said without conviction, nervously wheeling the buggy back and forth.