The Beguiling Tile

 

I have to admit that I was deeply apprehensive as I walked into my first choice of tilers during pre-start selections. Most women seem to know their dream tile intimately. I on the other hand was a more insecure candidate. A ‘’something like” ”maybe” ”not bad” kind of candidate who was happy to put complete trust in a total stranger who happened to be working there. The stranger was one Meredith Splatt.

Her name struck me as being highly Tolkienesque . Was it even real I thought to myself? For this expanse of room… these tiles of all shape, colour and texture… these lights…beaming like a UFO… were all quite and completely surreal.

There seemed to be three ways to go.

The first was the simplest option: the 40 something dollar tile allowed for in the builder’s specifications. Not much choice but highly practical with all the tiles displayed together. Plenty of white, patterns and mix and match options.

Second choice was the buyer’s market. Someone who didn’t want something in the first section but also didn’t want to pay an arm and a leg for the look that they were after. It was probably there for you if you could find it. That was me.

Choice three was the ridiculous. Beautiful tiles of all shades and textures that turned the humble ensuite into a Roman Bath and made the hallway so alluring that it whispered ”Come hither, come hither…” as though Heathcliff were waiting ten steps beyond.

And where was my Meredith?

She was everywhere.

”Natural” I explained…”Almost as though I could be outside…”

And ”natural” Meredith produced from those busy walls that I could find nothing on. She produced natural for a hundred dollars and she produced natural for half the price. More to the point she found me exactly the tiles that I wanted for exactly the price that I wanted to pay.

By the time that we were finished (several bathroom floors, cabinets and a laundry later), we were exhausted. Meredith gave me a look that said I could eat a horse but I’ll probably have to settle for a salad which meant that it was time to go.

I walked out of my first choice of tilers in a slightly tipsy manner. It could have been starvation, or dehydration or both. But whatever it was, I was beaming like the lights had been earlier.

For I had achieved the impossible. I had my tiles…in a thousand shades of sand.

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