‘I wasn’t planning on telling your father – or your brother and sister.’
Bridie stared at her. She didn’t have to ask why; it was obvious – then his secret would come out about his past life in the theatre. But what did that matter unless there was more to it than that? Bridie narrowed her eyes as her mum started to walk towards the stage door.
Bridie darted forward, blocking her way. If her mum saw the old poster on the stage, then the game would be up. She would find out that Bridie knew about her dad’s past on the stage and his possible affair with Isobel Raine.
‘And just how do you think you’re going to reopen the theatre? It’s a ridiculous idea.’
And there it is,thought Bridie. It was the start of the belittling of her dreams, and it would only get worse when her family found out that she was hoping the theatre would be her ticket back to London.
‘How did you come to own this theatre?’
Bridie decided not to tell her mum anything more about how she had come to own the theatre, about her plans other than the initial plan of staging a play. She walked to the door and held it open. ‘I’m busy. Do you mind?’
She watched her mum step outside and then turn around, her eyes roving around the foyer. ‘At least tell me how you came to own this theatre.’
Bridie was about to be very rude and just close the door in her face, when she had a thought. If her mysterious benefactor wasn’t Jack, then would her mum have an idea who it was?
Bridie thought about the official letter that had arrived at her parents’ house the day she was leaving to move into the flat in Cobblers Yard. Her dad had given her a call the day after she’d moved into Cobblers Yard to see how she and Barney were. The next time he’d phoned, he’d asked when she would be popping over. Bridie had been busy and had said she’d give him a call and let him know. That had been before she’d opened the letter and subsequently found out about his past.
After she’d found out, she’d texted back rather than calling. She had not felt that she wanted to speak to him just yet or see him, although she had invited him over to Cobblers Yard to visit the shop and see her flat. She’d known he would decline, especially when she’d added to the text that she could introduce him to her shop neighbours.
She’d waited an age for his reply, and as anticipated he’d come up with an excuse for not visiting: he was having car trouble. Bridie didn’t believe him. She looked at her mum. ‘How’s Dad’s car? Did it need to go into the garage for repairs?’
Her expression said she didn’t know why Bridie was asking that question. ‘There’s nothing wrong with the car.’
Bridie sighed. Of course there wasn’t.
She told her mum about the letter, the trip to the solicitor’s office in Ipswich, and the mysterious benefactor who had gifted her the theatre with a caveat: to put on one play before doing whatever she wished with the property.
Bridie pursed her lips, knowing that the last bit wasn’t strictly true. Although it was the benefactor’s wish that she should stage a play, it wasn’t a caveat; the theatre was hers, and the solicitor had said she could just sell it if she wanted. But she didn’t want to tell her mum that. She’d only be on at her to sell the place.
It wasn’t Dad who gifted me the theatre – was it?Bridie thought, nearly blurting it out loud. That was a stupid idea. For starters, how could you be married to someone and keep that sort of secret – that you own another property you haven’t told them about. She asked the question, in a roundabout way anyway, though, despite still being convinced it was really Jack.
‘Do you know who would do such a thing? Give me this theatre?’
‘How would I know?’ her mum replied. ‘Nobody locally knows who owns …ownedthis place – and that includes me and your father. All we’ve heard about the theatre is that silly rumour that it’s haunted.’
There was that word again –haunted. Her mum was right: it was just a silly rumour. However, although she had intended to hang around for a while and have a wander – there were rooms she still hadn’t seen backstage, including the dressing rooms and storage rooms – she changed her mind.
She thought back to the previous Saturday, after Jack and Oliver had left, when she’d thought someone was on the stage. She knew what it was – an overactive imagination. But even so, the idea of staying there on her own no longer appealed.
Bridie looked at her mum. ‘So, when the place was open years ago, you and Dad never came here?’
‘You know we don’t like the theatre.’
Bridie noticed that her mum hadn’t answered her question, so it wasn’t an outright lie. But then again, her dad must have loved the theatre back then. She stared at her mum and felt like asking her the question again, but her mum wasn’t stupid. She might wonder why Bridie was asking her probing questions.
‘So, when you’ve put on this show, you’re going to sell.’
‘I don’t know yet.’
‘You don’t know yet? Surely, you’ve got a plan.’
Bridie frowned at her.Yeah, my plan is to invite you and dad, and the whole family, and find out why Dad’s past had been kept hush-hush,she thought. Oh, how she wanted to ask her mum straight away. But she didn’t want them interfering with her plans for the theatre. She reminded herself to take one thing at a time.
‘Do you really think this place is going to turn a profit and give you an income, Bridie?’
She looked at her mum. ‘I won’t know until I try, will I?’ It wasn’t the reason she was staging the play, but she wasn’t about to tell her mum that she thought it would be a means to return to the London stage. She didn’t want her criticising that idea too.
