Page 32 of Be More Capybara

‘I know. I just feel …’ she was struggling to find the correct word. ‘Discombobulated.’

‘That is a very fancy word.’

‘On edge, then. Are you joining us?’

‘Lucy’s made it very clear that this is Mark’s project, so I’m keeping out of it. Unless you want me here?’

‘No, I’ll be fine, thanks. I’ve been doing this for years. I guess I don’t want to let you down as you recommended me.’

‘I’m sure he’ll love whatever you’re proposing, and if he doesn’t, it’s his loss.’

‘Good morning, darling brother,’ Mark said as he walked in with a notebook. ‘Who’s losing what?’

‘Nothing for you to worry your pretty little head about,’ Nigel said as he waved at Helen and walked out.

She needed to get this meeting onto a business footing.

‘Good to see you again, Mark,’ she said, holding her hand out.

‘If we’re being formal,’ he said, giving her a firm handshake. ‘I’ll try to forget that you and Nige used to babysit me. ‘

‘And I’ll try to forget that you used to run us ragged.’

Mark gave her a cheeky grin. ‘Sorry I was a little sod. My favourite prank was when I pretended to be dead.’

A vivid memory of nine-year-old Mark lying on his bedroom floor motionless came back into Helen’s mind. ‘You terrified us with that trick.’

‘I practised holding my breath for weeks to pull that one off.’

She laughed. At least she felt more relaxed now.

‘Shall we pretend to be professional business people now?’ she asked.

‘I’ve been pretending to be that for the last twenty years, so that shouldn’t be too difficult.’

‘Me too. I shouldn’t say that, should I!’

He laughed. ‘Everybody’s pretending. So where do you want to start?’

‘We usually have a chat about what you’re looking for, and I show you a few ideas and examples of similar projects I’ve delivered before. I’ve done some research on what your competition is offering.’ “Some research” was understating it - she’d devoted the entire weekend to putting a draft proposal together.

‘Sounds good. Fire away.’

24

NIGEL

Mike Dumbleton, Senior Sales Director of MD Courts (South West) Ltd, stood next to Nigel and noisily sucked a load of air through his teeth. He shook his head and walked to the other end of the neglected tennis court before stamping his right foot, presumably to test out the state of what little tarmac was left. Nigel sensed this was a prelude to a hefty quote for sorting it out.

‘Who let it get in this state?’

‘Not me. I’ve been away.’

‘How long for? Fifty years?’ Mike chuckled.

‘About half that. I guess the sea air hasn’t helped.’

‘Well.’ Mike clutched his iPad closer to his chest. ‘You’re looking at at least £50k.’