Reggie smiled. ‘There will be plenty of time for that.’ He glanced at Oliver. ‘You will be here for a while, won’t you, in Cobblers Yard?’
‘Oh, yes. I’m not going anywhere.’
‘Good,’ said Reggie and Isobel together.
‘Not right now, anyway,’ Oliver added.
‘Jack’s restoring a cottage for us to live in, next door to the theatre.’
‘Restoring?’ Reggie slapped his knee. ‘I told someone once that leopards can change their spots.’
Oliver laughed. ‘They can indeed. Sometimes they just need a special someone to point them in the right direction.’
Isobel finished her coffee. ‘Well, we shall leave you two lovebirds in peace.’
Oliver grinned. ‘I don’t think we’re the only lovebirds in Cobblers Yard tonight.’
Isobel said, ‘I’m not going anywhere anytime soon either.’
Bridie walked them to the door and gave each of them a hug. ‘You both explain a lot.’
‘About you?’ Reggie asked.
Bridie nodded. ‘Yes, about me. It all makes sense. I make sense.’
She watched them cross the cobbled yard to Reggie’s shop a second time and returned their wave before closing the shop door.
Oliver said, ‘Did one of them give you the theatre?’
Bridie shook her head. ‘No. I’m still completely in the dark over that.’ She looked at him. ‘Any ideas?’
‘Not a clue. Perhaps whoever it is will come to the opening night of your show?’
‘I was thinking the same thing.’ She crossed the room. ‘But let’s forget the theatre right now. I’ve finished my coffee.’
Oliver glanced at his empty mug. ‘Me too.’
She raised her eyes. ‘Shall we go upstairs?’ She suddenly felt absurdly embarrassed about how old-fashioned it was with the second-hand sofa, and old furnishings, even though Oliver had seen it all before. She said as much.
‘I don’t care about that.’ He stood up and took her in his arms. ‘Bridie, wherever you are, that’s my home.’
A howl interrupted the moment.
‘And wherever Barney is too, of course.’
They both stood there laughing. It took them back to those happy teenage years. This time, they both realised, was different; they were finally together, and they’d never be parted again.
Chapter 59
By six o’clock, The Little Theatre by the Sea was humming. Not with electricity – though that, mercifully, was holding steady – but with people. Voices. Footsteps. Laughter edged with nerves. The smell of fresh paint still lingered beneath popcorn and coffee, as if the building itself were holding its breath, unsure whether this was really happening after all these years.
Backstage, it was chaos.
‘Has anyone seen the shawl?’ Kate asked, frantically.
‘Which shawl?’ one of her fellow performers asked.
‘The blue shawl – no, the other blue one!’
