Page 104 of Love Letters on Hazel Lane

Later, when he’d finished over half of the pizza and Jo had eaten a croissant and one and a half pains au chocolat – or should that be pain au chocolats? She would never win at French Scrabble – she said, ‘So why are we losing the hall?’

‘The vicar has decided to rip all the pews out of the church and convert it into a multi-purpose space. He’s selling off the hall for development. You know, I wouldn’t mind quite so much if it was for affordable housing. I saw three patients yesterday – three in one day – who were in temporary accommodation. But it isn’t. They’re applying for planning permission to build two executive homes.’

‘That’s terrible,’ she said, looking around her lounge. Okay, so this house was an underdwelling – and, like all underdwellings seemed to be, it was a bit damp – and the sofa was stained, but the view was amazing and she knew she was lucky to have it. ‘How about we move into the new space in the church itself?’

‘He’s putting the rent up too. To cover the cost of the work.’

‘Seems a bit mean. He’ll be rolling in it once they’ve sold the hall off. Why does he need to put the rent up?’

‘The church needs a new roof. That’s why he decided to sell the hall in the first place. If we hold the Scrabble club in the new multi-purpose space in the church, we’d have to start charging for entry. I can’t keep funding it – not at those prices. But I don’t want to charge. I don’t want money ever to be an obstacle to people attending.’

‘We’ll find a new venue,’ Jo said.

‘Like where? Where could we accommodate thirty people…’

‘Thirty?’

‘Your festival worked. We’re getting more and more people each week. Where in Hebbleswick could we find a room that will fit thirty people, maybe more, with tables big enough for Scrabble boards at a reasonable cost?’ he said. ‘Or even better, free.’

‘How about we go to a pub? Loads of them have free function rooms.’

‘None of them will want us on a Friday evening. And I don’t want people feeling obliged to buy drinks. Not everyone can afford it.’

‘If I find you a venue, will you forgive me for the whole dating app debacle?’

‘I suppose I might,’ he said and Jo could tell from the warmth in his voice that he’d forgive her anyway, probably already had. ‘You’ll need to find one quickly. If we have to cancel, even for a week or two, I fear the group will lose its momentum. People won’t come back.’

‘Is the hall already sold?’

‘I don’t think so.’

‘I’ll persuade the vicar to give us a couple more weeks in the hall, at least until it’s sold, and that’ll buy me time to find us somewhere else to go.’

‘There is nowhere else.’

‘What about the school? It’s central. Might even be free. Mr Morgan liked the festival in the end.’

‘I thought of that already,’ said Razz. ‘He said no. He liked the idea but said a member of school staff would have to hang around then lock up afterwards. He doesn’t want to – especially not on a Friday – and says the teachers won’t either.’

‘How about Mr Timms?’

‘The caretaker? He does salsa dancing on a Friday evening.’

‘We should introduce him to Linda. How about we run the club on another evening?’

‘He does salsa dancing every evening.’

‘Salsa? Every evening? Are we talking about the same guy?’

Jo couldn’t imagine Mr Timms doing his finest Strictly impression.

‘There’ll be a solution, Razz,’ she said. ‘There always is. And when I find it, you’ll forgive me and we can put that dating profile stuff behind us and go back to being friends.’

He paused. ‘Sure. We can be friends.’

She was relieved but also perplexed. Because she couldn’t fathom the look that he gave her when he said that they could be friends.

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