I follow her to the lost-property box, which Samira refers to as “our box of norm-core accessories.”
“Here,” she says, thrusting a plain brown leather suit belt into my hand. “Otherwise you look like a tea cozy.”
“Thanks, Lynn,” I say, threading the belt around my waist.
“There, look,” she says, pointing into the full-length mirror behind the swimming trophy chest. I maneuver myself so I can see better, and I have to admit the look is mildly better.
“You’re looking very lovely these days, Mara,” says Lynn. “Everyone has noticed.”
“Thanks, Lynn,” I say, feeling my heart swell at the compliment.
“I mean it. Even Gerry commented on your looks one afternoon, and you know how picky he is.”
The compliment swiftly plummets in value.
“So, Campaign Manager, where are you at with the nominations, then?”
I nod. “We’re all done. Ten signatures, and the paperwork is filled. I’ll get it down to the office later today, and then you’re officially in the running. Is it time to tell Gerry?”
“No,” Lynn says, darting her eyes up from the paperwork and then swiftly back down again. “Ooh, Carole Langley. About bloody time she did something useful. There’s Sanka from the video store. Joan is in there too, and Graham Piper. Quite an endorsement from him, Mara; he’s Billie Piper’s second cousin.”
“You know we have to tell Gerry at some point? Once we submit, there’s no turning back. Ryan’s father has donated the billboard space outside his landscape gardening business. Your face is going to be right there for the whole town to see, with all the election information.”
“I know, Mara. I sort of did tell him,” she says, now looking up at me, perching her butt on the edge of my desk.
“Go on,” I say.
“Well, I asked him, hypothetically, what would happen if a staff member ran for elected office, and he said that was a conflict of interest—”
“I’m not sure that’s right, actually—”
Lynn holds up a hand. “Well, maybe not, but in any case, the general response I got was not an encouraging one. It’s clear to me what I’ve been ignoring for too long. Gerry has not been trying to help this lido; he’s been running it into the ground.”
“Well, yes,” I say, “I’ve been trying to tell you—”
“I know we’ve discussed it, but I couldn’t truly accept it. But, Mara, everything is so obvious to me now. Did you know that he tried to cancel my mothers’ group? He also told Eddie Sharp, the old boy who does the water jogging on Fridays, that he ought to join the leisure center in Whitstable. Eddie drives a mobility scooter! How’s he going to get to Whitstable? Swim?”
“Lynn, we’ve got a plan—” I begin gently.
“Mara, I am acutely aware that when I hired you, I talked up the lido’s potential. And I am sorry about that. The truth is, I’d hoped with your council experience in London you might have come with some ideas. And eventually, you came through. I just hope it’s not too late.”
I do something I can’t remember doing for many years. I put my hand on her shoulder and squeeze it slightly.
“What are you doing?” she says, looking at my hand.
“I’m comforting you,” I reply.
“Are you?” she replies, looking at my hand.
“Yes,” I say, taking it away and then hiding it deep behind myback. But the tension in her face breaks and she smiles. “Well, it was very nice of you to try.”
“There is something else. I thought we could do an event here to get younger people in. A floating cinema night.”
“Go on,” she says.
“Ryan could order in some extra rubber rings. Sanka can lend us his projector and screen, and Ash agreed to come and fit it. So far, not much in the way of cost. Samira has some source for LED fairy lights to string up around the pool. Lighting is going to be important, you see.”
“Gosh, Mara, this is amazing.”
