Paul sighed. ‘I always do, don’t I?’
Derek glanced at him with an appreciative smile. ‘You’re better than many of my apprentices, I’ll give you that.’ Paul was an attractive lad with fair hair and blue-grey eyes, but at eighteen he was brash with the misplaced confidence of someone who thought they knew it all. ‘Eight twenty-nine. Nearly time to go. Is your phone off or on silent?’
‘It will be.’
‘And remember, we address our clients by their title and surname, so it’s Mr and Mrs Williams to you.’
Paul stifled another sigh. ‘I know. And we don’t accept the first drink they offer even though I’m gasping and didn’t have time for breakfast.’
‘And whose fault would that be?’ Derek asked indulgently.
‘Mum’s for not getting up on time.’
‘You’re old enough to get your own breakfast. So you know the routine.’ Derek opened his door. ‘You stay in the van while I ring the bell and make sure they are all up and ready for us. And no shaking their hands,’ he added, his lip curling into a smile. ‘Who knows what you’ve been doing with those hands at your age.’
‘Wouldn’t you like to know.’
Derek looked away as Paul’s phone bleeped with a message. ‘Girlfriend?’ he asked as he got out.
‘None of your business.’
Derek left him to it. Despite his impertinence Paul was learning the trade fast, possibly a bit too fast. He’d had to keep a closer eye on him. He rang the doorbell. The Williams were up and expecting him. With a brief ‘good morning’, he returned to the van for the equipment they needed, tapping on Paul’s window as he passed.
‘Thank God it’s Friday,’ Paul moaned as he got out and joined his boss at the rear of the van.
‘You want to count yourself lucky you have a job. There’s a lot unemployed among your age group, and you’re learning a trade.’
‘So you’ve told me before.’
Ignoring his slight, Derek passed Paul two toolboxes from the rear of the van and locked the van doors. Mr and Mrs Williams were waiting for them in the hall.
‘This is my apprentice, Paul.’
‘Hello,’ Paul said, giving his shoes a cursory wipe on the mat.
‘Hi. Would you both like a drink before you start work?’ Julie offered.
‘No, thank you,’ Derek replied. ‘I’d like to get going, if you don’t mind.’
‘And you, Paul?’
‘I have to do as the boss says.’
‘We’ll leave our tools in the garage and set up camp in there, if that’s alright with you?’ Derek said to Russ. ‘Save us keep going in and out of your front door.’
‘Fine,’ Russ said. ‘I’m working from home today so if you need anything I’ll be in the study, and my wife will be around too.’
‘We’ll try not to disturb you,’ Derek said.
‘Anything else you need?’ Russ asked.
‘I don’t believe so.’
‘I’ll leave you to it then.’
‘Thank you.’ He gave a little bow.
Paul stifled a smile.
In the two months he’d been working for Derek, Paul had learnt that the company was nowhere near the size his boss liked to pretend – indeed as far as he was aware there was just the two of them. He also knew that as well as being obsessed with good manners and politeness, Derek kept himself to himself, never went out socially and appeared to have no mates. He seemed to live for his work, and was meticulously clean and tidy to ridiculous lengths. Some days Paul felt he’d done nothing but clear up. Derek also liked to work in silence, only breaking it to explain something about the job, or to deliver a lecture. Lectures included the youth of today, lack of respect, the lowlife scum who stole from decent folk, and noise pollution – the latter delivered after Paul had naïvely asked if they could have the radio on as they worked.
‘If clients wanted a radio blaring out all day they’d have one switched on, wouldn’t they? It would be intrusive for them to have to listen to our radio just because we want it on. An infringement of their personal space. Never forget we are tradesmen in these people’s homes, here simply to do the job they are paying us for, so don’t overstep the line into familiarity.’ Paul had been sorry he’d asked.
But his boss’s work ethos seemed to be successful, for he received so many requests for quotations that he could pick and choose the jobs he wanted. After visiting some premises he didn’t send an estimate, but an email apologizing that his work schedule was full, which seemed odd to Paul as some days they’d finished by lunchtime. Paul had no idea what the criteria were for accepting or declining a job. He’d asked Derek but he’d been vague and as an apprentice he couldn’t press him for an explanation. Paul was never allowed to go with Derek when he went to estimate. Derek said it would be an unnecessary inconvenience to the clients to have them both there, but added that if he took Paul on permanently he would train him in estimating. For various reasons Paul doubted that would happen.
At eleven o’clock they accepted the coffee Mrs Williams offered and drank it in the garage. Paul was also allowed to eat two of the biscuits she’d arranged on the plate; to eat them all would have appeared greedy, Derek said. It was then Paul’s job to return the tray with their empty mugs and the plate to the kitchen, remembering to knock on the door before he went in, even if it was open.
At one o’clock they had their lunch break sitting in the van to eat their packed lunches. Paul found it uncomfortable sitting so close to Derek who often had tuna and mayo in his sandwiches, made by his mother. He had the radio on low and always tuned to Classic FM. Paul ate his sandwiches quickly and then left the van to use his phone.
At half past five, the job was done. Derek checked the place was clean and tidy and that all their tools were packed in the van and then told Paul he could go. All that remained was for Derek to talk the clients through operating the system, and he never left until the clients felt confident using it.
‘I’m glad you’re pleased with the quality of the images,’ Derek said an hour later as he and Mr and Mrs Williams stood in front of their monitor in the hall. He’d shown them how to navigate the screen with the mouse, rewind to a specified date and time, download information, zoom in and out, and decide which images to display. They were now looking at their children in the living room watching television.
‘Stop picking your nose, Jack,’ his father called from the hall. They laughed as Jack looked up startled, wondering how he’d been caught.
‘I’ve changed the default password along the lines your husband suggested so you can remember it,’ Derek said, winding up. ‘It’s now rujuwi10.’
‘I won’t remember that!’ Julie exclaimed.
‘Yes, you will,’ Russ said. ‘It’s the first two letters of our names and 10.’
‘Of course.’ She laughed, tapping her forehead at having not realized.
‘Change it again if you want,’ Derek said. ‘But please tell me if you do. I’m maintaining your system – free for five years – so if there is a technical problem I’ll need to be able to log in to sort it out.’