‘Thank you,’ said Ros.

‘It’s all part of the service.’

‘I suppose it is,’ said Ros. It was an unwelcome reminder that she was paying for his support.

Ros and Darla decided to meet at the café in Mayflower Park for their usual Wednesday meet-up and take a stroll along the waterfront with their takeaway cups. This was the place Ros called Sunset Shore, it was simply the area along the waterfront with a funny little scrap of beach where she often came to watch the sun go down. There was a breeze but the weather was mild, and Ros always felt April was an unpredictable month so was happy to seize the opportunity to go out in an evening without getting rained on. She unburdened herself to Darla and instantly felt a sense of release. She was beginning to see the value in friendship.

‘He’s never mentioned this Gina to me,’ said Darla. ‘Or any relationship to think of it.’

‘But you’re work colleagues – why would he?’

‘I’m dead nice me,’ said Darla, looking affronted. ‘People like to tell me stuff.’

‘But still, who would discuss things of a personal nature with people they work with?’

‘Most people, Ros.’ Darla gave her one of her looks that made Ros feel like she lived on a different planet.

‘Really? It seems most unprofessional.’

‘It’s quite normal. I think I need to talk to him and get an absolute confirmation of what’s going on with this Gina.’

‘Goodness, no,’ said Ros, her words coming out as quite a high-pitched squeak. ‘He’ll know we’ve been talking. He’ll probably think I’ve asked you to interrogate him. That’s a very bad idea. And I think it’s quite unnecessary, as you only had to look at them to see their connection.’

‘We’ve got a connection,’ said Darla, waving her coffee cup in Ros’s direction.

‘Definitely not the same. Gina said they’d been dating for years and he had a special place in her heart. There was also kissing when she left but I only heard that as I obviously turned away.’

‘Blimey, sounds like they are a thing then.’

They walked in silence and sipped their drinks. Although the silence didn’t last long as Darla had quite a bit to update Ros on. Her download came with violent gesticulations and virtual re-enactment, which made Ros fear for Darla’s coffee. Darla appeared spent by the time she got to the end of her update. She was looking at Ros. ‘This is the bit where you give me the benefit of your insight and wisdom,’ she prompted. ‘Like I did for you.’

Ros supposed she must have missed that part of their earlier conversation but was keen to fulfil her side of the friendship. ‘Well, in summary. Winston is a cat and they are notoriously nomadic and fickle, so it’s likely he will use you and Elliott as he wants and still receive your undying devotion. The chicken coop needs some additional reinforcement to stop the weasel coming back and it probably needs a new latch if they were able to escape. I think there’s something called scree that Elliott might be able to put over the top of the chicken footprints to—’

Darla waved her hands and Ros stopped talking. ‘What about what happens when I go home to Oxford? When my fake year of travelling is done and I go back to normal life. What do I do then?’

‘You mean when you’ve paid off The Wanker’s debts?’

‘Exactly.’

‘I have no idea because you’ve not told me,’ said Ros.

‘Because I don’t know and I want you to help me work it out.’ Ros was sensing a level of irritation in Darla’s words.

‘Then I’m assuming that you would like to return home ready to accomplish something in addition to the debt repayment as your parents won’t be aware of that.’

‘Yes, but what?’ asked Darla.

‘These are two different things. Your primary aim is for a zero balance, which you are on track to achieve. Secondly you need a longer term goal to present to your parents and that will fulfil you as an individual.’

‘Exactly. I’ve been asked to clean a yacht in the marina on a weekly basis and it pays well so I should be able to build a small amount of savings.’

‘Would that be enough to secure a rental property in Oxford?’

‘Possibly not.’ Darla puffed out a breath. ‘I’m going back to square one. All this work and effort has just been to get me back to zero.’ She looked forlorn.

‘But that is a considerably better position than you were in. And you have gained a wealth of experience that I’m sure will be useful going forward.’ Although Ros couldn’t think specifically how it would be useful.

‘How is it useful?’

Ros had been hoping she wouldn’t ask. She took a moment to think as she looked out to sea at the fading sun. The sky changing from bright blue to burnished orange nearest the sea. The colours all perfectly reflected in the water. ‘You have acquired skills as a cleaner, bar worker, house sitter and animal carer. Should you wish to work in those fields again you would have references. Or perhaps if your finances improve you could consider self-employment.’

‘Self-employed?’

‘Starting your own business.’

Darla’s hand gestures hit a new high and as Ros feared her coffee cup went sailing through the air. Darla threw her arms around Ros, making her stiffen. ‘You are a complete genius.’

‘Thank you,’ said Ros although she had no idea why she had been given such an accolade.

As Ros opened the door to her apartment she was feeling more settled in herself, having had a good chat to Darla about the Gina situation and also alighted on a strong secondary life goal for Darla. There had followed an excited discussion, on Darla’s part, about what setting up a business would entail. Ros hoped she had summarised the key steps adequately although Darla had appeared somewhat daunted by the time Ros had got to the end of the list. With hindsight perhaps Ros should not have focused on the many risks associated with being a sole trader and the perils of running a start-up business.

Ros wasn’t sure if she was alone as she closed the door behind her. ‘Cameron?’ she called.

His bedroom door opened, and he appeared topless holding aloft a paint roller. He looked a lot like one of the pages from the Hot Men calendar she had received in last year’s secret Santa draw. It took a high level of self-control to focus her eyes on his face and not his exposed torso. ‘What are you doing?’ she asked.

‘Painting.’ He waved the paint roller and grinned at her.

‘And why?’ She was trying to manage her inner control freak who was going berserk at the thought of him redecorating without discussing it with her first.

‘I noticed the holes in the wall so I thought I’d make myself useful. I’ve filled them and now I’m painting that wall so you’ll never know the holes were ever there.’

Ros was pleasantly surprised by the explanation. ‘The holes were from a television set that was mounted there, which I’ve now given to Darla. May I enquire as to the colour of the paint you are using?’ She didn’t want to seem ungrateful but before she steeped him in praise she needed clarification as she was already mentally reviewing her last decorating bill and the thought of getting the decorator back again was an inconvenience she could do without. Ros didn’t do painting and decorating; it was messy, fiddly and time-consuming, hence her need to get a workman in for such tasks.

‘I zapped the wall with this app I downloaded so I got an exact match. It’s Strong White by Farrow and Ball.’

‘It is indeed,’ said Ros, going past him and into the bedroom. She surveyed his workmanship.

‘I masked up and put down some bin bags to protect the carpet. I just have that last bit to finish and it’s all done.’

Ros was impressed. She knew she had a critical eye – for one thing the last decorator had told her something similar. Although she seemed to recall he had termed it obsessively nit-picky. ‘You’ve done an excellent job. Very professional. In fact possibly better than the average self-styled professional. Thank you. Please let me know what I owe you for both your time and materials.’

‘Nothing, Ros. I’ve fixed your bedside lamp too. I wanted to make myself useful.’

‘You definitely have,’ she said, inadvertently scanning his stomach and almost giving herself whiplash as she snatched her head up to a more decent level.

‘You okay?’ he asked.

‘I may have strained my neck.’