Chapter Forty
‘Peace, perfect peace.’
Kieran relished the silence. After a full-blown bout of histrionics from Lisa, he needed the tranquility of a quiet cottage. Even a damp, slightly whiffy one.
‘I did the right thing,’ he said to Prom, curled up at his feet in a semi-conscious coil. ‘We were never a good match, apart from in the bedroom.’
Prom stretched and gave him a look of mild distaste.
‘Sorry, bud. Too much information.’
Despite her teary objections, Kieran knew Lisa wouldn’t be single for long. Another Sven, perhaps. Or not.
‘Not my problem,’ he murmured, stroking Prom’s head.
To get things moving with his app, Kieran had booked a small function room at The Jekyll and Hyde for that evening. Baby steps, but he needed feedback. Ed had happily agreed for a nominal fee, and with Jinnie, Angela and Alison’s help, he hoped for a decent turnout of fashion-savvy, eco-minded guinea pigs. Just not too many, as the room wasn’t large.
The room, which wasn’t used much, had been kitted out for the event. Ed and Angela had dragged in a few mismatchedtables, set out borrowed chairs from the beer garden, and scrawledClosetAura Meetup – Free Tea & Coffee!on the chalkboard usually reserved for the day’s specials.
The faint hum of music next door filled the gaps between chatter. Angela had strung up fairy lights, which flickered against the ancient red and gold flocked wallpaper. It wasn’t glamorous, but it could be the kind of place where small ideas took flight.
Kieran stood near an ancient dartboard, laptop at the ready, pulse hammering. Slides good to go, palms sweaty, regretting the pint of Dutch courage he’d thought would help. Ed gave an encouraging nod from behind the tea urn.
Kieran cleared his throat. ‘All right, everyone, thanks for coming. I’m Kieran, and I’ve been building an app calledClosetAura.’
A few polite murmurs. Someone stirred their coffee noisily.
‘So … it’s like if your wardrobe had a conscience,’ he said, feeling heat rise up his neck. ‘It helps you see what you actually wear, what’s gathering dust, and what deserves a second life. And instead of doom-scrolling fast-fashion tat, it connects you with UK brands that are genuinely sustainable and match your style.’
He tapped the spacebar. The projector, perched precariously on a bar stool, flickered to reveal the temporary logo: a heart wrapped around a hanger.
‘I know I’m not some big tech guru in a black turtleneck,’ he added, scratching the back of his neck. ‘I’m just trying to make fashion feel good again, for us and the planet.’
There was a low chuckle from somewhere near the biscuit plate.
‘I’m looking for a handful of testers,’ he went on. ‘Tell me what’s great, what’s rubbish, what needs fixing. Be brutally honest. I promise I won’t cry. Much.’
Smiles; a couple of nods. His shoulders loosened.
‘So yeah,’ he said, gesturing towards a sign-up sheet on the bar. ‘If you fancy being part of the first wave ofcloset revolutionaries, write down your name and email address. You’ll get early access, a say in shaping the app, and possibly a free coffee. Courtesy of Ed’s generosity, not mine.’
‘Oi!’ Ed called, laughing. ‘You’re paying for the biscuits, mate.’
Beth appeared in her chef’s jacket, hair loosely tied, a smudge of flour across one cheek. She must have come straight from the kitchen. For a second, he forgot what he was saying.
‘Cat got your tongue, lad?’ Wilma heckled, which earned some laughter.
Beth slipped into a chair and the room settled. Kieran wrapped up, relieved no one had fled or fallen asleep.
‘Thanks, Ed,’ he said, gathering his laptop and notes as people dispersed.
‘No worries, Kieran. It looks like a lot of people signed up. I did, and so did Angela. She’s forever moaning that I own forty shirts and wear the same three things on a loop.’
As the last people filed out, Beth wandered over. ‘ClosetAura, hmm?’ she said. ‘It sounds intriguing.’
‘I’m aiming for mega-successful, but I’ll take intriguing.’
They walked together into the pub’s low buzz. Alison, sitting with Janette, gave him a thumbs up.
