‘I’d say until the end of next quarter,’ Scrimengor says, his lips curling.
‘Spring?’ Izz spits, forgetting about the reels playing noisily from Fern’s phone and looking round the room like a spooked meerkat.
‘Best say end of Feb, just to be on the safe side,’ Mr Collins pitches in. ‘Sometimes planning proposals fly through.’
‘Not if the community objects,’ Leo Bold says, still looking at Sully, and there’s something bright and alive in his eyes that wasn’t there before.
‘As per regulations,’ Mrs Slaughter adds, ‘all planning applications will need to go through the regular channels and public consultations.’
‘Oh, they will,’ Scrimengor says assuredly, like this is a game of poker and he knows he has the winning cards up his sleeve.
‘It’s nevertheless hard to argue a condemned building should lie unused and unfunded, becoming a danger to others and attracting thieves after lead pipework,’ Collins says before he’s cut off.
‘Excuse me,’ interrupts Bobbie, making us all turn in our chairs. They’ve two kettle weights gripped to their chest and rolled yoga mats under their arms. ‘You’re on my time now.’
‘Ah, there we are! It’s working!’ Rodney Carruthers chimes down the line from Devon, where someone – it looks like his daughter – has finally sorted his sound issues.
‘Meeting adjourned,’ tolls Scrimengor, snapping the laptop closed upon his colleague, shooting me a challenging glance as he departs. ‘Come along, Sullivan,’ he calls behind him. ‘You’ve the bread trays to wash down.’
Before he runs after his grandfather, Sully makes sure to say good night to everyone, and he doesn’t forget to direct a nod at Leo, who, even amidst all the fuss of Bobbie plunging us into full light and the chairs being noisily moved aside, hurls himself across the room to hold open the door for Sully. They exchange smiles only to be separated by the arrival of a gabbling group of village mums pouring through the doors in their exercise gear and clutching oversized water bottles.
Bobbie pointedly hits play on the sound system, blasting out what’s probably supposed to be motivational techno music but to me sounds like a torture soundtrack. I’m going home before I get roped into doing squats.
‘Fern, what exactly is a GoFundMe?’ I ask her as the last of us file outside into the playground.
Izz walks a pace or two behind. She was the last one to get a hold of Fern’s phone and is looking over our new social media accounts that caused so much consternation amongst the councillors tonight.
Fern’s explaining how it all works, how all we really need is an appeal page explaining who we are and why we need donations when Izz jolts to a stop near the school gates.
‘What’s this?’ she says. I can hear dreamy music coming from Fern’s phone.
‘Did you know about this?’ Izz asks me, a strange look on her face as she shows me something on one of the Gingerbread Christmas Village’s pages.
I shake my head. I’ve not had time to look at reels, not for days.
There are delicate, sad strings playing over a shot of the village hall in its Saturday-night-dancing heyday and words in bold type fading in and then out again.
ONCE UPON A TIME, it reads,IN OUR BEAUTIFUL OLD VILLAGE HALL. This cuts to a close-up of young Izz from the cine film, almost receiving a kiss from her Alexi.NEXT-DOOR NEIGHBOURS DANCED THEIR WAY TO LOVE.
‘Oh no!’ I say, realising what I’m looking at.
Then comes the shot I just knew would be next: Alexi and Izz dancing together.THEIR ROMANCE WAS FORBIDDEN. ALEXI MOVED TO MALTA. THEY NEVER MET AGAIN. WHAT HAPPENED TO ALEXI THORNE?
As the words fade away, Izz and Alexi bloom into life on the screen again. It’s the still image of them from the foyer of the village hall, where they’d been secretly holding hands, all in black and white.
‘When did you post this?’ I demand.
‘First thing,’ Fern whispers. ‘Don’t you like it?’
The view counter is ticking over every few seconds, climbing higher and higher. ‘Over seven thousand likes?’
‘I know, it’s doing really well,’ she says, looking between a stony-faced Izz then me like she doesn’t understand what’s wrong.
I scroll through the comments.
Fern has posted the first one. It says:Reunite Alexi and Izz so they can dance together once more when the Wheaton Village Hall is restored.
‘Oh no,’ I say, glancing up at her. She looks afraid.
