Melissa Kite: I am thinking of copyrighting My Builder Boyfriend

The Builder Boyfriend has nearly moved in. I say nearly because we are both quite nervous about committing to each other so we are doing it piecemeal. I don’t know why people say ‘never do anything by halves’ because doing things by halves has saved my sanity on many occasions.

In this case, the builder and I are dividing our time and our possessions between my flat in London and the converted barn rental in Surrey. This means if one of us gets cross with the other we simply split up and inhabit them separately.

There was a third option, the builder’s house in Wimbledon, but this needed so much doing to it on account of his ‘builder renovate thyself’ neglect — it doesn’t even have a kitchen, he was meaning to put one in but never got round to it — that I refused to have anything to do with it.

Since letting it go, the builder has refused to move any of his stuff into my London flat, where space is tight, in case I get exasperated. As such, he stores his possessions when we are staying there in a black bucket. The black bucket stands in the spare room as I write and contains a rugby shirt, two pairs of socks and a pair of jeans. It is commendable how little he needs to put in his bucket at any given time. (I am turning a blind eye to the pair of builder’s boots he has left in the hallway.)

In the country, where we have more space, I have allowed him a small cupboard in a recess in the slanting roof of the bedroom. When I assigned it to him, I thought he was going to be cross but he crouched down, looked into the dark space full of electrical wiring and pipes, grinned and said, ‘Hmm, well, it’s a start.’