The call came at 7.30 Thursday morning.
"You're early." I said into the phone, the last remnants of my breakfast muesli at the back of my mouth.
"Neil's at the front gate."
"I'll go let him in."
This has been the go for the last three days. A phone call. Go downstairs. Let in the guys.
It's now Saturday afternoon and I'm once again waiting for tradie.
It's nearly there. Nearly.