He studies me and then grins widely. “This is perfect.”
“It’s perfect that I’m freezing to death? That’s quite heartless, Max.”
“No, I can fix the boiler for you. Saves you the cost of a plumber.”
“You’ll do what, now?” I ask warily and watch as he takes off his motorcycle jacket and the black jumper underneath it. “Wait. What are you doing?”
He rolls up the sleeves on his long-sleeve grey T-shirt. “I told you. I’m going to fix the boiler.”
“Is that after you get your plumbing qualifications?” I ask uneasily, following him as he makes his way unerringly to the little engine room. “Oh Max, you can’t do that,” I protest as he removes the boiler cover and looks at the innards with entirely strange enthusiasm.
He looks up. “Why not?”
“Well, you’re wearing a Gant T-shirt,” I say, eyeing the soft grey crewneck. “You’ll get mucky.” I pause. “Oh, and you don’t have any plumbing knowledge.”
“It’s lovely to watch your priorities in action. It’s quite fascinating.” He winks at me. “And how do you know I don’t have plumbing experience? Did you read my book, after all, Felix?”
“Of course not.” I sniff. “It’s holding up my table.”
He laughs, his teeth white in his stubbled face. “Well, I do know a lot about boilers. I like finding out about stuff like that. I love engines,” he says enthusiastically.
“I love Jaffa cakes. Doesn’t mean I can make or repair them.” I scratch my chin. “You really don’t have to do this. We’re not about that.”
“And what are we about?” He seems amused.
I shrug. “I don’t know. I have a hole. You have a dick. That’s it.”
“Wow, it’s like we’ve been written in the stars. Move over, Romeo and Juliet.” I huff with laughter, and he grabs my nape, kissing my cheek. “Relax. I just have a vested influence in not fucking someone who is attempting to be the world’s skinniest human ice cube.”
“That’s all right, then,” I say, relaxing slightly. Then I stiffen. “Wait. I’m not skinny.”
“No?”
“No. I am wiry and very fit.”
He starts to laugh. “You are as far away from being fit as Jacob Rhys-Mogg is from having a pleasant personality. You were puffing when you had to race to get to the bar at last call last night.” I glare at him until he finishes laughing. “Listen, it’s all good, Felix. I’ve repaired all sorts of engines and machinery. I wouldn’t be alive now if I couldn’t do that. I’ve repaired car engines in deserts and jungles and warzones. Now, do you have a pump plier?”
“Is that a sex toy?” I ask. “I’m afraid I’m a teeny bit vanilla, Max. I just have the one dildo and my hand.” I laugh as he makes flapping motions with his hands for me to move out of his way. “I’ll go and ask Rob, my neighbour. I usually just borrow tools off him.”
He shakes his head in disapproval, and I make my escape as he turns happily back to the recalcitrant boiler.
I lean against the wall when I’m out of his sight. It makes me uneasy to see him doing this for me. I dare say I’m being ridiculous. The man hasn’t proposed on bended knee. He’s just helping me out the way a mate would, with the added bonus of getting to stick his hands in an engine’s innards.
I bite my lip. It’s just that I try not to need people for anything. I do everything myself and don’t rely on anyone, and I’ve got a sneaking feeling that it would be way too easy to get used to having Max at my back. He’s just so competent and strong. Reassuring in a very charismatic package.
I give an exclamation of disgust. Get over yourself, Felix. He’s just helping out. Give it a few weeks, and you’ll never see him again. You’ll go back to being on your own, and he’ll go back to charming the pants off men in bookshops and never give you another thought.
I nod determinedly, already feeling better, and step off the boat to borrow some tools for him.
An hour later, after getting a load of my own work cleared up, I pop my head into the engine room to find Max and Rob bent over my boiler, conversing very happily in what appears to be a foreign language. Max has a streak of oil running down his face, blood on his knuckles where he’s obviously hit himself with something, and black streaks over his T-shirt and jeans. He seems lit up from within.
“How are we doing?” They turn to me, looking as if they’d forgotten I was even on the boat. I suppress a smile. “Any joy?” I eye their clothes. “Beyond the illogical lure of boiler grease.”
“I think it’s done,” Max says.
Rob squeezes past me, heading for the living area.
“Heating is coming on,” he calls after a moment.
Max fist bumps the air. “Yes!”
I shake my head. “I think it would have been cheaper to call a plumber than to destroy your very posh togs.”
He looks down, as if remembering that he was wearing clothes, and then shrugs. “I fit in better now, seeing as you’re dressing like an extra from Les Misérables.”
“I dreamed a dream,” I declare dramatically, and he laughs.
We turn as Rob comes back. “All sorted,” he says, clapping me on the shoulder. “Good bloke you’ve got here, Felix.”
“Oh, he’s not mine,” I say awkwardly. “I’ve only borrowed him for a bit.”
“Oh, yes?” Rob asks.
“Yep. I’ll throw him back when I’m done with him.”
Rob looks rather surprised, but Max just laughs. “I need to prove my usefulness,” he says earnestly to my neighbour.
Rob laughs. “Well, I suppose fixing a boiler would do it.”
I eye Max in a dubious way. “I still think flowers and chocolates are more the way to go.” I laugh. “But I gave my flower away a very long time ago, so a boiler is the way to go.” I smile at Rob. “Are you staying for some food?”
He shakes his head. “No thanks, Felix. Mandy’s shift finished half an hour ago so she’ll be home any minute, and I’ve got dinner on.”
“Well, thank you,” I say.
He smiles. “Anything for such a good neighbour.” He holds out his hand for Max to shake. “Great to meet you, Max. Good bloke,” he mutters to me again and then he’s gone.
I sigh after a beat of silence. “Okay, tell me what you now know about Rob.”
He grins. “What makes you think I know anything?”
“Because you can’t resist asking questions, Max.”
“He met Mandy when he shut her hand in a pub door. He’s allergic to mushrooms, and they’re trying for a baby.”
I blink and shake my head. “I don’t even know his surname.”
He laughs. “Felix, for shame.”
“Oh, fuck off. We don’t know people like that down here. It’s usually first names only in our little community.”
“Community? Is that what this is?”
I nod. “Oh, God, yes. People move in and out, but boat people are largely very friendly and helpful.”