‘You know, perhaps your parents might actually be supportive. I mean, you’ve been given a property on the sea front. That’s quite a thing, like winning the lottery.’
Bridie frowned. Hannah didn’t know her parents. If she had, she wouldn’t have said that.
Hannah said, ‘I know it’s not easy, getting it renovated to stage a play, but it will be worth it, I’m sure.’
‘It’s not that.’ Bridie sighed and went to fetch the shoebox. ‘This is the reason I don’t want to tell my parents about the theatre just yet. They’ve kept my dad’s past on the stage a secret from me and my siblings.’
‘That’s strange.’
‘I know.’
‘No, I meant this – your likeness to Isobel Raine.’
Bridie rolled her eyes. ‘Oh, not you as well.’ She slammed the lid shut to the shoebox.
‘So, someone else has remarked on that too.’
‘Yeah – my sister and Reggie.’ Bridie added, ‘Reggie knew my father.’
‘Yes, I saw the poster on the stage. Didn’t know Rufus was your dad.’
Although they had the same surname, nobody in Cobblers Yard had really taken a lot of notice of the old posters dotted around.
‘So,’ said Hannah. ‘Oliver. Do you want me to check out if he’s there?’
Bridie shrugged. ‘I guess. Will you tell me if he’s with someone?’
‘Is that what you’re afraid of?’
‘Maybe.’
‘Then I shall go and report back.’
Bridie paced while Hannah was gone, eventually overfilling a shelf with stock because her mind kept wandering and she wasn’t concentrating. The clock was ticking loudly in the background, making Bridie even more aware that Hannah had been gone a lot longer than Bridie had anticipated. She didn’t know whether to take that as a good sign or not.
The bell above the door suddenly tinkled. Bridie’s heart leapt in her mouth as she turned around.
‘He was a no-show,’ said Hannah. ‘I asked at the counter after the schoolteacher, and it’s the first Saturday in a long time he hasn’t shown up. So I bought some cake while I was there. Thought it might cheer you up.’
‘Thanks, Hannah.’
‘I didn’t buy coffee because, you know …’
They both looked over at the old coffee machine. ‘I’ll make us both a cup,’ said Bridie.
Bridie put two mugs of coffee down on the table in front of the sofa. She took a seat as Hannah brought over the cakes on two plates. ‘God, I hope it wasn’t my fault Oliver didn’t turn up today.’
Hannah looked at her bemused. ‘How could it be?’
‘I sent the text, didn’t I? Maybe he thought if he didn’t answer, or even if he did, and said he didn’t want to see me, I’d still turn up.’
‘I think you’re reading way too much into it. Most likely it has nothing to do with you.’
Bridie hoped so. She didn’t want him to stop going to his favourite place for coffee at the weekend just because they’d fallen out and he didn’t want to see her.
‘I saw your mum at the café, by the way.’
‘Great,’ Bridie said sarcastically, relieved she hadn’t gone herself just to find out he wasn’t there – and to make matters worse, bump into her mum.
