‘I know you’re trying to keep it quiet,’ Hannah murmured as they walked, ‘but if you want to reopen a theatre, and stage a play, word will get out.’
‘I don’t care anymore,’ Bridie said. ‘I just want it ready.’
‘And it will be,’ Hannah said. ‘With this lot. Oh, and I called your sister.’
Bridie stopped short. Standing outside the theatre were Kate, Andy, Layla and George. Bridie hugged them all, laughing through tears.
‘Right,’ Kate said briskly. ‘Let’s get stuck in.’
As Bridie unlocked the door, Hannah lingered behind her, lowering her voice. ‘Oh, and I called Oliver too.’
‘What?’ Bridie spun around.
But Hannah was already slipping inside. ‘Must dash. Things to do.’
Bridie was left standing at the entrance, the promenade stretching away on either side, the sea glinting faintly beyond.
She took a breath.
Whatever happened next, there was no turning back now.
Chapter 47
By late afternoon, the painting was finished, the cleaning done, and someone from a local shop had stocked the foyer with refreshments. A brand new coffee machine had appeared from a local business also wanting to do their bit. Hot drinks were being passed around, along with sandwiches someone had supplied from the local Co-op. They had cleared the shelves of all their sandwiches to feed the hungry volunteers, who seemed to have grown in number.
Bridie hadn’t seen Oliver yet, and a little part of her was relieved. The other part was disappointed.
Bridie sidled up to Hannah. ‘Where have all these people come from?’
‘I don’t know. Can’t be all Mabel and Marjorie’s doing.’
‘It was me.’
Bridie turned around.
Layla said, ‘I posted on social media. I overheard you and Hannah talking about auditions, so more people have come, and all my drama class with their parents – and Oliver.’
Bridie turned around to see Oliver surrounded by a group of schoolchildren, all looking eager to star in a production on that very stage.
Bridie got out of her seat and walked over to join them. ‘Oliver? I didn’t think you’d come.’
‘I’d do anything for you. You know that, right?’
‘Of course I do.’
‘He’s not here, is he?’
Bridie sighed. She knew who he was talking about. ‘No. In fact, his workmen were meant to be finish this next week. I think he might not be happy about us taking over.’
‘Good.’
Bridie had expected that reaction. She wondered what Oliver’s reaction would be when he found out Jack wasn’t the bad guy – he was the one who’d gifted her the theatre.
‘So, we’re going to get down to rehearsals.’
Bridie looked about her. They’d cleared away the paint pots, paintbrushes and rollers, and the hoovers and cleaning materials. Dozens of people were now seated in the velvet chairs, eating sandwiches, drinking tea, coffee and squash, and staring about them in hushed silence.
Oliver said, ‘I’ll hand it to Jack, I did not expect him to come up trumps and restore this theatre to its former glory – probably better than its former glory.’
