‘Yes, that might be true, but with your plan that’s not going to happen, is it?’ Jade grinned and flounced out of the room.
Jack followed her to the door and was about to close it behind her when she turned round abruptly. ‘It’d be interesting if you could find out how she came to be the new owner, wouldn’t it? I mean, after all these years with you trying to find the owner and get your hands on the place, she turns up and hey presto, she has the keys.’
Jack frowned at her. As if he needed reminding. ‘I thought you didn’t want me getting involved.’
‘Just saying.’
Jack shut the door and sat behind his desk. He looked at the plans for the theatre spread out before him and picked up his phone, still convinced that when he returned Bridie’s call, he was going to find out she’d changed her mind about involving him. After his conversation with Jade, he began to wonder if that wouldn’t be a bad thing. Perhaps he should leave the past in the past.
Chapter 36
Bridie regretted agreeing to meet Jack the moment he pushed open the warped stage door and strode inside as if the place already belonged to him.
Dust motes swirled in the weak light spilling through the cracked windows high up in the walls. The theatre smelled of damp wood and old plaster, a deeper, heavier scent than the day before, now that the excitement of the group visit had faded. It was quieter, too – no chatter, no clatter of buckets and brooms. Just the echo of footsteps in Bridie’s mind.
She hadn’t noticed the smell and the quietness when they’d met the previous Saturday morning; she’d just been inexplicably overjoyed to see Jack – until Oliver had turned up and it had all gone wrong.
When he’d arrived this time, the next Saturday, after he’d returned her call, he’d joked that it felt like déjà vu, meeting up again on a Saturday morning. His demeanour had changed when he’d looked towards the door. Bridie knew what he was thinking – would Oliver turn up again and ruin their plans? She knew he wouldn’t – not after their row there a week earlier.
Oliver had texted to apologise and to tell her he’d be at his usual table in the café on Saturday morning if she wanted to stopby and have a coffee. Unfortunately, she’d forgotten all about it until Jack unwittingly reminded her. Bridie was looking at her phone, wondering what excuse she would come up with to say she couldn’t make it, hoping Oliver didn’t stop by Cobblers Yard to see if she was there. If he did, Hannah would tell him where she was – and with whom.
They’d all asked in Cobblers Yard when they could return to the theatre to help out. She saw no reason why they couldn’t all visit that morning before work if they fancied it, while she and Jack were drawing up plans. There were bound to be things they could get on with for a while before they left to open their shops.
Surprisingly, Jack had vetoed the idea. She’d have thought he would welcome the help, but he’d told her that now he was involved, he would be calling in professionals – tradesmen he worked with in his business.
Bridie had not enjoyed telling her friends that they were no longer needed. She could tell they were all disappointed.
Jack whistled softly, taking it all in once more. ‘Well,’ he said, hands on hips, casting his gaze around the theatre once more. ‘She’s still got something. We’ll get her launched in no time.’
Bridie folded her arms, annoyed already. ‘She’s a theatre, not a cruise ship!’ She frowned, realising she’d referred to the theatre as a ‘she’ as well.
He glanced at her, lips twitching. ‘Still touchy, then.’
‘Still patronising,’ she shot back, before she could stop herself.
The familiar spark flickered between them – annoying, warming, dangerous. It unsettled her how easily it came back, how little time it had taken for them to slip into the old rhythm. As if the years apart were nothing more than an intermission.
She knew why she was touchy. It was the paperwork Jack had given her that morning, which she hadn’t expected. He’d told her to read it through and get advice if she felt the need.
It didn’t take long for her to realise what it was. She didn’t know why she’d assumed Jack investing in the theatre would be an informal arrangement between old friends.
Get advice?The trouble was that if she told Oliver, or anyone else in Cobblers Yard, they might advise her against it or at least tell her to give herself a chance to consider the implications.
The solicitor in Ipswich who had handled the gift said she could contact him any time. But it was Saturday, and both she and Jack wanted to get on with things.
As she’d stood there, in front of the stage, signing the document, she realised it was the reason Jack had waited a whole week to meet her again. At first, she’d put it down to how busy he probably was with his business. But now she knew it was this; he wanted the contract drawn up first, ready for when they met.
Why hadn’t he told her that was what he was intending to do? Bridie had asked him that question when he’d handed it to her on arrival. He’d been a bit patronising when he’d said he’d assumed she’d be aware this was a business transaction.
Bridie had replied that of course she knew. It was not true, and she was feeling very foolish. There wasn’t time to make an appointment with her solicitor to go over the contract if she wanted to crack on now and start the ball rolling that day. Jack had assured her, when he’d seen her hesitate before signing the document, that it was just a formality, something he had to do for his business books.
‘I run a business,’ he’d said casually, ‘and as I’m going to be employing my tradespeople to come in and do the work, I’m afraid it all has to be done by the book.’
Perhaps it was for the best that the meeting with Jack that morning had clashed with Oliver’s invitation to meet at the café. After getting this legal contract stipulating the terms of Jack’sinvestment, she might have been tempted to accept Oliver’s offer instead.
She said after signing it, ‘I must admit when you phoned me back and I asked you to meet me here again, I thought for a moment you’d changed your mind about investing in the theatre.’ She’d picked up on the hesitation in his voice when she’d answered his call.
Jack stepped forward, already scanning the space with an expert eye. ‘Roof’s the first priority. If that leak isn’t sorted, everything else is pointless.’
