He nodded once. ‘I know you’re no fool. How about I show you the rest of the place? Show you what’s behind this… lovely old façade.’
He used her word deliberately. Maybe it would soften her. He doubted it, but it was worth a try.
She shrugged. ‘Fine.’
She followed him out into the hotel proper.
The corridor smelled of damp and ancient frying oil. The patterned carpet along the main hall was worn to the backing in places; the floral wallpaper was yellowed and peeling, water stains spreading like continents across the ceiling. An old brass wall sconce flickered, its shade hanging at a crooked angle.
‘Charming,’ Lucy said faintly, fingers trailing along the battered dado rail.
He led her into the main bar. Daylight picked out every scratch and stain. The mahogany counter was scarred and sticky; the mirror behind the bar was foxed, silvering gone at the edges. A fan in the corner ticked, wheezing on every rotation. In the far corner, a section of carpet had been ripped up and not replaced.
‘This is “character”, is it?’ he asked.
‘Yes,’ she said. ‘Though I admit it needs work.’
‘Look here,’ he said, stepping to a side wall and tugging back a flap of wallpaper.
The plaster beneath was cracked and crumbly, hairline fractures spiderwebbing out. In one corner, the skirting board gaped from the wall.
‘Cosmetic,’ she said.
‘Representative of what’s going on behind the walls.’
‘Really? Because I spoke to the local builder who last worked on this place.’ She folded her arms. ‘He said there was no structural rot. Nothing that hard work and investment couldn’t fix.’
‘I can show you my engineer’s reports if you want convincing.’ He regretted the offer as soon as it was out.
‘Yes, please.’
‘Wait here,’ he said, politeness fraying as he walked back to his office. He didn’t want her watching as he selected which reports to show.
He pulled out the summarised assessment first, unfurled it, and brought it back.
‘See here?’ he said, pointing.
‘These don’t look detailed,’ she said. ‘It’s a summary.’
Reluctantly, he went back and came out with the full report. She studied the pages carefully. He hadn’t expected that. Since when did café owners read structural reports?
Then she looked up and shook her head.
‘You didn’t learn the first time, did you?’ she said. ‘Once again you’ve mistaken me for an idiot. These reports don’t show a building beyond rescuing. Not remotely.’
‘They… show a building no longer fit for purpose.’
‘So you said before.’ Her eyes narrowed. ‘You thought I couldn’t read this, didn’t you? What you failed to consider is that I’ve already been through these with someone who understands them.’ She snapped the folder shut and handed it back. ‘I may not be technical, but I’m business-savvy, and I prepare. Especially when you are involved.’
He lifted his hands, palms out, hoping a gesture of surrender might soften her. It was annoying how even more beautiful she became when she was furious.
‘Lucy, please —’
They’d walked back into the bar area without him noticing, and the raised voices had drawn attention. A couple of workers had stopped, tools in hand. Brenda and one of the kitchen staff hovered in the doorway.
‘Don’t “Lucy, please” me!’ she snapped.
Her raised voice carried to the open front doors. Within moments, a few locals poked their heads in. One waved to someone outside. The crowd thickened, a ripple of curiosity running through them.
