Back The Nesting Save as PDF
Chapters (56)
  1. Cover
  2. Title Page
  3. Acclaim for The Nesting
  4. Dedication
  5. Epigraph
  6. Prologue
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  48. Acknowledgements
  49. Author Note
  50. Keep Reading …
  51. LIV, 1998
  52. II
  53. III
  54. About the Author
  55. Also by C.J. Cooke
  56. About the Publisher

And so, when the drill reaches the top he pulls twelve bottles of vintage Scotch from a case and hands one out to each of the men for their efforts.

Never has a man been more warmly thanked.

Dag starts early the following day. Despite the late night he’s back on site just after dawn, up and raring to go. He’s excited about the drill, mostly because it’s a pretty mean piece of equipment and he saw the look on Jakob’s face when they collected it in Ålesund. And when he told Jakob what the drill was for, another look of respect. He, Dag Lykken, was going to be the one to personally drill the frame for the lift of this incredible house, designed by none other than Tom Faraday. He can’t wait to tell his professors at university this news. He would be sure to take a few selfies with the drill for his Facebook profile, hoping Eva will see.

‘Hey, hey, D-d-dad?’ he calls out to his father, who is busy hauling iron girders with two other workers towards the cliff edge for the second tier of the house. ‘Take a photo of me, will you?’

‘Take it yourself,’ Erik grunts back.

Dag needs both hands to operate the drill. The photo can wait. He’s making good progress. Another man, a Swedish guy named Nils, is checking to make sure Dag is drilling in the right spot. He’s too much, this guy Nils. He keeps insisting on checking the spot every five seconds, even though they lined up the drill first thing and it’s not like it can move easily. He’s making Dag nervous. Eventually he gets called away to do another job and Dag breathes a sigh of relief.

Ten feet down. Another four feet to go and he can start on the next area. There are four in total. He glances around to check none of the men is looking before setting his camera on a slab of concrete and hitting the timer. He poses with the drill, giving a big cheesy grin. The photograph sucks. He’ll do another. This time he doesn’t look up but makes sure he flexes his muscles – the idea is that he’s too serious about the job to look up for a picture, and he’s been captured in the moment, not taking something as contrived as a selfie.

The photo is crap. It’s kind of blurry, and is he really that thin? He needs to put on some weight, build some muscle.