‘Yes,’ Hannah said firmly, ‘her last performance.’
Bridie noticed she didn’t use the wordfinal. Hearing that word just made things seem so … permanent.
‘Now, would you two like a cuppa while you’re here? Maisie baked some butter shortbread last night. I have some here.’ Hannah pointed at a biscuit tin by the coffee maker. There were paper plates and napkins too.
The sisters brightened simultaneously.
‘Well, why didn’t you say so earlier?’ Mabel sniffed, reaching for the biscuit tin.
‘I’m afraid Bridie and I have already had our coffee break.’
Bridie gave Hannah an imperceptible smile. She’d saved her from the Spanish inquisition. ‘Yes, I have to get back to work,’ said Bridie, grateful that at least she could feign being busy.
Marjorie rose from her seat.
‘But you’re welcome to stay,’ Hannah added.
Bridie frowned.
Marjorie looked at her sister. ‘Come along, Mabel. We can revisit our memories of Bridie’s teenage aspirations later.’
‘Let’s have a cuppa and one of Maisie’s biscuits before we leave.’
‘Oh, all right. You’ve twisted my arm.’
Bridie groaned quietly. ‘Great.’
Hannah patted her arm as Bridie accompanied her to the shop door. Hannah was going back to her bridal shop to continue setting things up. She stopped in the doorway and glanced at the sisters. ‘Don’t worry. They’ll forget most of it by lunchtime.’
‘No, they won’t,’ Bridie said.
Hannah considered. ‘No. They won’t. But you’ll get used to them. They’re harmless. They just like to know everything that goes on round here.’
‘Yeah – I get that.’ Bridie suddenly had a thought. She had intended to nip across the yard that evening, when all the shops were closed, and Reggie was in, to ask him about the theatre.
The painting of the theatre in its heyday that had been in Hannah’s shop window, which Maisie had painted from some photos she’d seen in an old shoebox that belonged to Reggie, was upstairs in the flat. She still wanted to see the contents of that shoebox and was looking forward to seeing photos of the theatre from years earlier. Perhaps, unbeknown to Reggie, one of the photos might have captured the owner.
She still intended to introduce herself as his new neighbour later, but she suddenly had a thought – she had the gossip girls, the old ladies who knew everything there was to know about comings and goings in Aldeburgh over the years. What would they know of the old theatre?
Bridie was about to ask, when suddenly she thought better of it. If she started a conversation, who knew where it would lead – right back to what she was really doing there.
She kept her mouth shut and scuttled around the shop, making sure she looked very, very busy indeed with no time for idle chit-chat. She couldn’t wait for them to leave. And leave they did – eventually, but not before promising they’d be back.
Bridie shut the door, breathing a huge sigh of relief. She quickly popped her head upstairs to find Barney just waking up. ‘Good boy!’ She opened his crate and remembered to take him straight outside to avoid any accidents.
Barney pulled on his lead when she tried to take him back upstairs. He wanted to stay in the shop with her. ‘All right. But you have to be good, do you hear?’
When the bell tinkled behind her as the shop door opened, she turned around, expecting to see the gossip girls again. To her relief it was Hannah who walked straight in and popped the kettle on. ‘I saw them leave and gave it a few minutes before popping back in case they spotted me.’
Barney was curled beneath the counter, content with the morning’s adventures.
‘Well?’ Hannah handed her a mug of tea. ‘I didn’t get a chance to ask you how you felt the morning went, meeting everybody.’
‘It’s …’ Bridie searched for the words. ‘A lot.’
‘And you survived,’ Hannah said, smiling.
Bridie let out a slow breath. They both knew of whom she was speaking.
