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ringing in his ears, but she was so desperate that now she didn’t care. He could only rip her off if she allowed him to. He was on his own but she didn’t feel quite as bad about a con man coming to a sticky end as two reputable businessmen.
    ‘I can only pay you what I was quoted by the others and not a penny more. I have no bank card that you can force me to give you the numbers for and I haven’t left this house for ten years so don’t think you will be able to get me to come to the bank with you.’
    Seamus grinned. ‘Fine by me, miss; I’m only after an honest day’s work and some cash for my back pocket. Do I look as if I would try and rip such a lovely lady off?’
    Martha didn’t answer that, but she smiled.
    ‘Good. I’m glad we have an understanding.’
    ‘Well, come on in then and take a look. See if you can do anything about my drains.’
    She led the way and he followed, eyeing up the oil paintings and antique grandfather clock, which was ticking away in the hall. When they reached the cellar door he looked it up and down but didn’t say anything. All the time she kept telling herself that it would be okay. Those other men had been down there and come back out. He slid the bolts across and leant in to reach the light-pull. He tugged it but nothing happened. He pulled it again and still there was no light.
    Uneasy now, Martha felt her heart begin to race. The light had worked less than half an hour ago.
    ‘It doesn’t matter. You can’t go down there in the dark. Why don’t you come back tomorrow?’
    ‘What’s up with you? I’m not scared of the dark, you know. Have you not got a torch?’
    Martha nodded and walked back to the sideboard where she opened the drawer and pulled out a big torch. He took it off her.
    ‘I’ll have your drains sorted in ten minutes. You see if I don’t.’
    He went back to the cellar with Martha lagging behind. She watched as he ran down the steps into the blackness and prayed to God that, even though he was probably a crook and a thief, he would be safe. The memories from eighty-five years ago came rushing back as if it was yesterday. He was whistling away to himself until she heard him mutter, ‘Fuck me.’
    ‘Is everything okay?’
    ‘Apart from the smell it’s fine, miss; don’t you worry. I’ll get this sorted out for you in a jiffy.’
    Martha couldn’t stand there any longer. Her legs were shaking so much she needed to sit down, so she went into the kitchen and filled the kettle up. She would make a pot of tea for them both. After what he’d done he deserved it and it might make her stop feeling as if the world was about to end. She could hear some banging and clattering then some muffled curses, which made her smile. Footsteps came running up and he came into the kitchen.
    ‘I found the drain and it looks like something big is jammed in the bottom of it. No idea what it is but I need something to poke it with. If I can dislodge it then it should move along the sewer pipes. Then I can chuck some buckets of water down to flush it out.’
    It didn’t sound very technical but she didn’t care. As long as it worked and got rid of the smell she would be more than happy.
    ‘There’s a shed outside full of my father’s old tools. I’m sure you’ll find something in there.’
    He nodded and went out of the back door to the shed, which she could see from the kitchen window. He came back in with an assortment of tools and smiled at her.
    ‘You know, you have a beautiful old house and garden, miss. Do you not get lonely living here all on your own?’
    ‘Thank you, I do. I get terribly lonely but it’s always been this way and it always will be until the day I die. I know what’s in the shed by the way, but if you manage to sort out my problem I will let you take whatever you want.’
    He began to laugh. ‘Well now, that’s very kind of you.’
    He went off to finish the job and she felt a lot better. Maybe, after all these years, whatever it was