‘A property. A building.’ He took a breath. ‘A theatre, actually. The Little Theatre by the Sea. Here. In Aldeburgh.’
Her voice wobbled. ‘That can’t be right. I didn’t even know the owner.’
‘Well,’ Oliver said, sliding the letter to her, ‘he or she clearly knew you.’
Bridie snatched it up, reading with widening eyes. ‘A solicitor in Ipswich. Transfer of ownership. Instructions to collect keys.’
The Little Theatre by the Sea.
The old building she’d loved as a teenager. The place she’d once dreamed of performing in which had miraculously reopened to stage her drama group’s play and then had promptly closed again. The place she, Oliver, and Jack had sneaked into after school to rehearse imaginary plays.
Her hands trembled.
‘Oliver,’ she whispered, ‘what … what is this about?’
‘I have no idea,’ he admitted. ‘But it’s something good.’
She let the words settle. Something good. It felt impossible. ‘Is it?’ she said. ‘What on earth am I going to do with a run-down theatre?’
‘Do it up and stage a play? Star in your own show?’
Bridie stared at him, Julian’s words coming back to haunt her.You’ll never work in this town again. But if she had her very own theatre, her very own stage … But of course, as with everything in life, things were never that simple.
‘Where would I get the money to do it up?’ Bridie could already foresee complications.
Oliver leaned forward. ‘You know, you don’t have to do that. The theatre is right on the seafront. You could just sell it. I expectyou’ll get a good price even though it’s run-down. Someone will snap it up and develop it.’
‘But that would be such a shame. What about the local community?’
‘I’m all for being community minded. I mean, I teach. It’s fairly well paid, so I can’t really complain, but then again, it’s long hours and hard work. I’m not doing it for the money. Look, the point I’m making is that you have to think about what’s good for you.’
Bridie folded the solicitor’s letter back into its envelope, her fingers trembling slightly. A theatre. An entire theatre. The thought alone made her head swim.
Oliver leaned back in his chair, considering. ‘If you sell, a developer will snap up a seafront plot like that. Probably turn it into flats or a holiday cottage.’
‘Mmm,’ Bridie murmured. She didn’t know what she wanted. Not yet. ‘It’s all too much to get my head around.’
Oliver’s expression shifted suddenly. His eyes lifted over her shoulder and he grimaced.
‘What?’ Bridie asked.
Oliver leaned forward, voice dropping. ‘Speak of the devil.’
‘What do you mean?’
He didn’t look away from whoever was behind her. ‘He’s just walked in. Jack. Let’s just say the word around town is that he’s been trying to buy up that theatre for years. Problem was, nobody ever knew who owned it.’
Bridie stiffened. ‘Jack? As in –JackJack?’
Oliver nodded once.
She started to turn in her seat, but Oliver reached across and grabbed her hand. ‘Don’t,’ he whispered. ‘Let’s pretend I didn’t see him.’
Bridie froze. ‘Okay,’ she breathed, straightening again. The last thing she needed was a developer chasing her before she’deven processed what the letter meant, even if the developer was an old friend. Bridie raised her eyebrows. She didn’t need to remind herself that he was more than an old friend.
She leaned in. ‘Can we keep this between us? The theatre, I mean?’
Oliver smiled gently. ‘Of course. My lips are sealed.’
