CHAPTER 12
Jeff takes my advice. He stays out of his music room all weekend and helps me set up the bookshelves on the landing. He’s all thumbs with his bandaged fingers, but as long as he keeps them out of the way of screwdrivers and hammers, he can hold bits together and decode the instructions for me. I’m not a talented DIY person, but I can hold my own – except that I only have two hands.
Once we have the shelves put together and books hauled down from the attic and alphabetised on the shelves, I go downstairs to make tea. Then we sit down in the wicker chairs we have bought for the area, put our cups on the cute little coffee table and watch Sammy snooze in the bean bag we thought could be a nice spot for reading, directly below the roof window. I have a feeling we won’t be able to
