‘Ah, in the spirit of keeping your position as the new owner a secret.’
‘Yeah.’
‘I’m still wondering about Jack …’
Bridie sighed, wishing she hadn’t mentioned the reason she couldn’t have dinner with Hannah, Maisie and Rupert that evening at Somersby Hall. Hannah wasn’t going to let it go.
‘What does he get out of his investment in the theatre?’
Me, thought Bride.Resuming our friendship.But more than that, he’d given her the theatre to get her life back on track – hadn’t he? They hadn’t parted on good terms years earlier. That was her fault, and for that reason she knew she didn’t deserve everything he was doing for her.
Bridie just grinned at Hannah without answering her question. Despite her wobble when she’d last met up with him in the theatre, and despite the fact that she’d started to have doubts over whether Jack was her secret benefactor, she still thought it had to be him; who else could it be?
She looked at Hannah and felt like telling her. But she had a feeling Hannah wouldn’t believe it unless she heard it from Jack himself. Bridie didn’t want Hannah to ask him outright, or for word to spread to the little community in Cobblers Yard. If they all confronted him, then his ulterior motive, the surprise he had planned – the big surprise when he told her it was really him – would be lost. After all the work he was putting into the place, Bridie was looking forward to hearing it from him first.
‘Bridie, you’ve got a kind, trusting nature, and I wouldn’t want anyone to take advantage of that.’
Bridie knew she meant Jack and felt a little irritated that everyone – Oliver, her mum, Kate and now Hannah – thought he had an ulterior motive. ‘I can assure you that is not the case.’
Hannah eyed her. ‘There’s something you’re not telling me, isn’t there?’
‘Maybe.’ Bridie avoided eye contact, smiling to herself. Although she was dying to tell Hannah, as she had been with Kate, she resolved to keep what she was thinking to herself until Jack revealed the real reason he’d got involved with the theatre.
‘Just be careful. I’ve heard his marriage is on the rocks.’
Hannah wasn’t the only one who’d mentioned that. Bridie remembered her mum mentioning that things weren’t all roses around the door in Jack’s marriage – something she’d heard from her knit-and-natter group. Bridie didn’t see what that had to do with her, even if his marriage was in trouble. ‘Why are you saying that?’
‘You said yourself you’ve got a history.’
‘But that is ancient history.’
‘It might be for you, but is it for him?’
‘Of course it is.’ Although if he was doing all this for her, was he after more than mending bridges and being friends? Surely, that couldn’t be the case. Whatever problems he had in his marriage, all relationships had ups and downs. That didn’t mean Jack and his wife would be breaking up.
‘Right now, you’ve just suffered a break-up from a long-term relationship. Be very careful, Bridie, about doing something you’ll regret, on the rebound.’
Bridie sighed. ‘I told you – this is just about the theatre,’ she said adamantly, even though she had no idea why they were meeting.
‘Are you sure about that?’
Chapter 44
Bridie arrived at the theatre just after seven, the sky already darkening, the sea air sharp against her cheeks. She paused outside for a moment, keys cold in her hand, taking in the building as it now stood. Even from the outside, she could see the difference. The roof tiles gleamed wetly under the streetlamp, newly set, and the faint glow behind the windows told her that the electrics were working properly now.
She told herself that this meeting was practical. Jack had wanted her to come by to check she was happy with the work his tradesmen had been doing during the week. That was all. Roof repaired. Electrics made safe. Replastering under way.
Still, her heart was beating far too quickly as she unlocked the door.
Inside, the foyer smelled different. Cleaner. Fresher. Paint, plaster, something new layered over the familiar damp and dust. Jack was waiting for her, hands in his pockets, as though he’d been standing there for some time.
‘Evening,’ he said.
‘Evening,’ she replied, suddenly conscious of her boots, her coat, her hair still damp from the mist outside. ‘I can’t believe how much you’ve got done in a week.’
He smiled, clearly pleased. ‘I told you. Once you get the right people in …’
She followed him through to the auditorium – and stopped dead. ‘Oh my god!’ She had expected progress. She had expected repairs. What she had not expected was transformation.
