Short story
Having a new kitchen installed is more stressful than Caroline thought it would be
Early on Monday morning Terry arrived at Caroline’s house. “Meet Mark and Jason,” he said as two other men followed him into the kitchen. “Hi,” Caroline smiled. “Shall I put the kettle on?”
“No, thanks. We’ve brought our own flasks,” Terry said. He placed his vacuum flask together with some bottles and cans on the soon-tobe-demolished worktop. “We’ll be switching the water off in a minute so you might want to fill the kettle and a few saucepans.”
As she turned on the tap, he turned on the radio. Loud music filled the air. “What on earth is that row?” she asked. “Builders’ FM.” Jason told her. “Builders’ FM? Never heard of it.” “That’s because you’re not a builder,” Mark pointed out.
“It’s not really called Builders’ FM,” Jason said. “We christened it that because all the builders round here listen to this station.”
Wondering if all the local builders were deaf, she collected the essentials for making tea and coffee and put them on a tray. As one track finished, another one started. Caroline thought they all sounded the same, then had to smile to herself – soon she would be like her parents, always moaning that the old pop songs were the best.
From the living room she could hear the loud buzz of power tools and muffled swearing. Someone upped the volume on the radio. Caroline considered popping out to buy some earplugs and wished she had a friend living nearby where she could seek refuge from the noise. Having only recently moved to the area, she hadn’t had time to get to know the neighbours.
Suddenly, at eleven o’clock, it all went quiet. She wandered into the kitchen to check on progress. The ripped-out units were piled up on the patio and Jason was sitting on the garden bench with his phone. Inside, Mark and Terry were staring intently at the radio.
‘Your parents were old rockers, always playing stuff from the Sixties and Seventies,’ Neil said
“What’s going on?” she asked. “Jason is on the radio,” Mark said. Caroline glanced through the window. “Looks to me like he’s chatting on his mobile…”
“He’s not chatting, he’s taking part in a music quiz on Builders’ FM,” Terry explained.
“He’s just got another question right,” Mark added.
“Not too surprising,” Caroline said, testily. “It was an easy one – even I knew it!”
She couldn’t help thinking that she was paying these guys to work, not to compete in music quizzes.
“We listen every day,” Terry told her, sensing her disapproval. “Jason has always wanted to be a contestant. He phoned in earlier and smashed the qualifying round…”
“He’s just scored another ten points!” Mark interrupted.
Terry punched the air. “He only needs another five and he’ll be on again tomorrow. He knows his music, does our Jason.”
“He ought to flipping know it,” Caroline ranted to her husband Neil that evening. “They have Builders’ FM blaring all day long. As for the quiz, Jason’s not that brilliant – I knew most of the answers myself!”
“Well, you grew up listening to pop music,” Neil reasoned. “Your parents were old rockers, always playing stuff from the Sixties and Seventies. It’s not so easy for Jason when the music isn’t from his era, so all credit to him.”
Looking at the gap where the cooker used to be, he added: “Now, what do you fancy for supper? Fish and chips or a Chinese takeaway?”
If Caroline had realised the upheaval, stress and constant vacuuming involved
in having a new kitchen installed, she probably wouldn’t have bothered.
She had never seen so much dust and rubble and it began to get on her nerves. As the builders had brought their own drinks, she didn’t even have the distraction of serving them with tea and biscuits.
Moving to a new home had not been on their agenda, but when Neil’s firm offered him a promotion they had no choice but to up sticks and start afresh, leaving behind their old home and circle of friends.
“You’ll soon make new friends,” Neil had promised, but it took quite a while to get to know people. So far, Caroline hadn’t found herself a job and she was beginning to feel useless and lonely.
“At least the builders will be company for you,” Neil said, but in the interests of health and safety Caroline was banned from the kitchen until they downed tools at eleven every morning.
“Jason got all the answers right again today,” she told Neil on Thursday evening. “He should be this week’s winner. He’ll be terribly disappointed if he isn’t.”
The next day, instead of listening to Jason on the radio, Caroline, Mark and Terry joined him on the garden bench for moral support.
“You’ll bring me luck,” he said hopefully, fingers firmly crossed.
Caroline surveyed the garden gloomily. Weeds, piles of rubbish and a heap of gravel met her gaze. They had already filled one skip and now they needed another.
Noticing that Jason was dithering over the last question, she raised her eyebrows at him meaningfully and, picking up a handful of gravel, bowled it along the path.
Then all four of them were cheering like mad because Jason got the last answer right and he’d won! A few days later his prize arrived. The goody bag contained a baseball cap and T-shirt with the station’s logo on plus a signed photo of the DJ.
“There’s a voucher, too,” Jason announced. “It’s for eight people at Forks, that new restaurant in the high
She raised her eyebrows meaningfully and bowled a handful of gravel on the path
street. Why don’t you and Neil join us? You’ll meet my girlfriend and Terry and Mark’s other halves.”
Caroline was thrilled – a sociable night out at last as well as a chance to make new friends.
After the work on the kitchen was finally completed they fixed a date when everyone was free. Neil and Caroline had a great time and after the meal they all went to a nearby pub, The Speckled Hen.
A few days later Caroline phoned Jason. “Do you fancy entering a pub quiz?” she asked. “I saw a poster in The Speckled Hen and you can have a team of up to eight people. Do you think the others would be interested?”
“Definitely!” Jason said. “I reckon we’ll make a brilliant team – and it’s all thanks to you.” “How’s that?” Caroline asked, all innocence.
“You helped me win the Builders’ FM quiz,” he replied. “I wasn’t at all sure if it was the Rolling Stones singing that last song until you gave me the clue with the gravel!”