Bricking It by Nick Spalding Read Free Book Online

own face. ‘I am a completist! I cannot walk away from a project until I know every element of the house is in situ !’
    ‘Well, that does sound very thorough, Mr Hollingsbrooke.’
    He quickly sits back again in his chair. This bugger is twitchier than a man whose pants are made of ants. ‘Please! Call me Mitchell,’ he tells me with a smile. Then he looks up and his eyes widen with pure happiness. ‘Aha! Tea! And biscuits!’ The brow instantly furrows. ‘No garibaldis, though?’
    ‘No garibaldis, Mr Hollingsbrooke,’ Mischa assures him as she steps back into the office, holding a tray of cups and an assortment of biscuits. I spot a Jammie Dodger, which pleases me no end.
    ‘Aha! There are Jammie Dodgers!’ Hollingsbrooke virtually shouts. Oh great . . . now I have competition for my favourite biscuit.
    ‘Jammy,’ says Danny from beside me, giving Mischa an awkward smile.
    Mischa departs, to presumably go and feed all the garibaldis to the seagulls, so we have Hollingsbrooke’s undivided attention once more. I nibble on a Jammie Dodger while leafing through the pictures of his work for a second time.
    ‘What would you need us to provide?’ I ask him. ‘You know, about the house?’
    He waves a hand around in the air. ‘Oh, as much as you can possibly give me. Your email gave me a good idea of the project, but there is some paperwork I will need. A floor plan of the property, information about the deeds, the local services, etcetera, etcetera. Mischa and I will undertake the necessary research, and then we will start to draw up plans.’ He springs forward in his chair again, giving both Danny and I quite a start. ‘Do you iPad?’
    ‘What?’ we both reply at the same time.
    ‘Do you, or do you not, iPad?’
    I wasn’t aware iPad was now a verb. ‘Er, I have an iPad, yes,’ I say to him.
    ‘Excellent! We have recently discovered a rather wonderful app on iPad that can create a three-dimensional interpretation of a planned renovation. I am finding it invaluable for giving my clients an accurate representation of what I have planned for their property.’
    I’m slightly taken aback. If the shiny glass desk plonked in the middle of a rustic houseboat is incongruous, then a man who wears tweed and corduroy, likes a tuba and has a moustache from the 1920s knowing all about iPad apps is doubly incongruous, with a side order of highly unlikely. I am forced to remember that Mitchell Hollingsbrooke is only in his late twenties, despite all sartorial evidence to the contrary.
    ‘What about money?’ Danny asks, seeking to make up for his uselessness in the presence of Mischa with a question that cuts right to the heart of the matter.
    This earns him a raised eyebrow from Hollingsbrooke. ‘I’ll need a small retainer to begin with,’ he tells us. ‘Five hundred pounds should do it. My standard rate is ten per cent of whatever the total build and design cost may be.’ He gives us an indulgent smile. ‘I’m sure we can work everything out once I have a better idea of the job at hand.’
    Ten per cent of the cost is quite a lot of money once we’ve borrowed it, but then £500 up front isn’t. The only other option open to us would cost far, far more before any work had actually started. Hollingsbrooke represents the best deal we’re going to get. He probably knows this as much as we do. Without architect’s plans, we can’t work out a budget, and without a budget we can’t mortgage the property. We’re just going to have to throw our lot in with this eccentric, or risk not being able to move forward on the project at all.
    I look round at Danny, to see what he’s thinking. He catches the look I give him, understanding it in an instant. In silent reply he shrugs his shoulders and nods his head. What other choice do we have?
    I look back to the architect, safe in the knowledge that my brother and I are on the same page. ‘Fair enough,’ I tell him. ‘I’ll bring all the information about the