“Not at all,” Mia whispered. Then the mayor began to talk.
If it hadn’t been for Tony and Becky sitting at the side of the stage next to a covered-up flipchart, the first twenty minutes could have been from any other meeting in any other year. Jayne Fielding had obviously decided to take advantage of having lots of people in one place at the same time, and so discussed, in detail, the ongoing problems with finding someone to run the Fish Festival that year, and people threw in some suggestions and nominations for a committee to try and fix it–some sensible, some outlandish and some utterly ridiculous. It was only after all these had been covered and discussed that Jayne put down her notes and turned to Tony, who stood with a smile.
“Now, we have come to the reason I’m addressing so many of you tonight,” the mayor went on. There were a few chuckles among the crowd. Mia twisted her hands in her skirt and waited impatiently. “As I’m sure you’ve all heard, we have a new business interested in a partnership with our town. But, to explain further, let me introduce Mr. Tony Fisher and our very own Becky Thrower.”
The mayor stepped away from the podium and took a seat on the other side of the stage, allowing Tony to step up to the microphone while Becky uncovered the flipchart. Mia wasn’t sure Becky could legitimately be called one of their own any longer. After all, how many times did a person have to leave before you accepted they just didn’t want to be there?
Mia risked a glance up at Charlie and rolled her eyes. He was staring at Becky.
“First of all,” Tony said, his charming smile in place, “I’d like to thank you all for being so welcoming to us since our arrival. Particularly the Grand Hotel, the shops along Main Street, and StarFish restaurant.” He paused, waiting for a response of some sort. Applause, Mia wondered, like on an American talk show, where they clapped after every other sentence? She was more interested in the fact that they were already trying to win over the suffering businesses of Aberarian.
Realizing no response was forthcoming, Tony went on. “Now, normally we’d be doing this presentation to our investors, with a forty-inch flat screen and a laptop, but given the...reduced equipment here, we’ve had to improvise a bit.” He tapped the microphone. “I suppose I should be grateful we’ve got sound!” He paused again, but the audience was still silent. Mia shifted in her seat. This was fantastic; he was tanking. If only he’d keep talking about himself, rather than money...
Then Becky turned over the first sheet of the flipchart, and Tony stopped trying to be funny and got down to business.
Tony leaned forward, resting his forearms on the podium, and clasped his hands behind the fixed microphone. “Our investors know what a great town Aberarian is. But more importantly, they can see its potential. They know times are hard right now. And they trust us to come up with ways to make things easier for you.”
He flung out an arm in the direction of Becky and her flipchart, and the whole room turned to look at the poster she revealed.
It was a picture of the Aberarian seafront, bathed in impossible sunshine. Figures of families and holiday-makers strolled along the Esplanade. The picture was angled so the observer got a view right up Water Street to Main Street, and the colors of the hotels and shops were all brighter, more vibrant than Mia knew them to be in real life.
And there, at the top of Water Street, where it met the main square, was the Coliseum Cinema–rebranded and repainted as a Champion Casino.
The crowd began to murmur.
“Now, we’re already arranging to set up a proper exhibition here,” Tony said, his tone reassuring. “With a model of how the casino will look when it’s finished, and plans and maps, so you’ll all be able to see how well it will blend in with the existing buildings in the area.
“We’ve already got an initial go-ahead from the council, and we’ve spoken with the building owners along the proposed stretch of land, and I can tell you, the response has been very favorable.”
“I bet it has,” Mia murmured. All but one of the proposed buildings was empty; the owners were probably only too glad to get shot of them.
But the Coliseum... At the rear of the room, Mia spotted Walt Henderson, looking utterly miserable. Even though he was selling her cinema, Mia couldn’t help but feel sorry for him.
Charlie shushed her as Tony started speaking again.
“But what you need to know right here, right now, is we are going to put Aberarian on the map and give your town back the pride it deserves!” Tony stepped away from the podium, a proud, triumphant smile on his face.
This time, there was applause. There was even small cheer from somewhere near the doors. Mia would give the man this–he knew how to make a speech.
Jayne Fielding took the mic again, waiting for the noise to die down. Then she said, “Well, for those who want to know more, we’ll be holding the exhibition Tony mentioned here in the church hall, from this Thursday. Then we’ll be having a special emergency town meeting in the church proper on Saturday evening to discuss any concerns or questions about the plan.”
The crowd applauded again, and the hall hummed with excited chatter and noise. Mia, slumped in her seat, turned to look at Charlie.
“Crooked Fox,” she told him. “Now.”
Chapter 6
The Crooked Fox was packed. Everyone who’d been at the meeting–and everyone who hadn’t, and wanted to hear what was said–was crammed in, all talking at once. Mia motioned at a tiny, rickety corner table where a couple of probably underage lads were standing to leave, then pushed her way through the crowd to secure it, leaving Charlie to mount an assault on the bar.
Charlie sighed, checked his pocket for cash, and started to shoulder past the local populace, trying not to be too obvious as he listened in on everyone’s conversations. The consensus, as ever in Aberarian, appeared to be ‘wait and see.’ It all sounded very promising, people were sure, but did they really want a casino in town? They’d wait until they saw the plans to make up their minds.
He nodded. Mia would be happy with that, at least.
Joe was waiting at the bar when he finally reached it, an empty pint glass beside him and an almost full one in his hand.
“Sounds like you’ve had quite the evening,” he said while Charlie tried to get the attention of Jonny behind the bar. “Who’s looking after the restaurant?”
“Didn’t seem much point opening,” Charlie admitted. “Magda and Kevin were off anyway, and everyone else was at the meeting.”
“And how was the meeting?”
“It was...interesting,” Charlie said, watching Jonny start making his way to their end of the bar. “I was surprised not to see you there.”
Joe shrugged. “Figured I’d hear all I needed to know in here.”
“And your interpretation is?” Charlie held up two fingers to Jonny and pointed at Joe’s pint glass. Then he mimed a glass and waved over at where Mia was sitting alone in the corner. Jonny nodded his understanding and set about fetching a bottle of white from the fridge and pouring a large glass.
Taking a long sip of his pint, Joe turned around and leaned both his elbows on the bar behind him, surveying the crowd. “I think it could be a very interesting meeting next Saturday.”
Charlie turned to ask him what he meant, but Joe was paying him no attention at all. Suddenly aware that the buzz of conversation had dulled, Charlie looked around to see what had caught everyone’s attention.
Glancing toward the door, he understood the change instantly.
Magda was standing in the doorway, wearing a fire engine red dress that stopped short enough to allow Charlie to see more of her thighs than he’d ever felt comfortable imagining she had. Its neckline cut high across her collarbone, but it didn’t matter because any observer’s eye was distracted by the way her bright blond hair curled past her shoulders. Charlie blinked, remembered she was only twenty-two and his employee and, more importantly, his friend, then turned to the bar to take his pints from Jonny. Except Jonny was frozen, also staring at Ma
gda. Charlie waited a moment, decided if he wanted his drinks he was going to have to take them, and set about releasing Jonny’s fingers from their grip on the glasses. He left the correct money on the bar towel, figuring Jonny would find it eventually. Once his eyes returned to his head.
Tugging on Joe’s sleeve, he tipped his head in the direction of Mia’s table and Joe, gaze fixed on Magda, followed slowly behind.
At the table, Mia was smiling for the first time that evening, and Charlie allowed himself a small sigh of relief as he sat down. Joe stumbled into the chair beside him.
“Magda looks fantastic tonight.” Mia reached over and grabbed her wine.
“Joe certainly thinks so,” Charlie said, waving his glass at Joe, who, pint in each hand, continued staring at the door.
“I didn’t know she was dating Kevin.” They watched Magda sway through the crowd to a free table, where Kevin yanked a chair out for her.
“I’m not sure she is.” Charlie turned to look at Mia instead. “It’s sort of a trial run, apparently. She’s expanding her search for love.”
Mia glanced over at the speechless Joe. “Does he know that?”
Charlie shrugged. “I’m not sure he’s aware of much at the moment.”
Grinning, Mia leaned forward across the table, close to Joe’s face, and said at top volume, “And then Ditsy stripped off on the bar...” Still nothing. Charlie winced, but Joe’s gaze was utterly fixed on Magda.
Then, “She looks bored, don’t you think?” Joe said.
Charlie glanced over at the table by the door that Magda and Kevin had appropriated. Kevin, he noticed, had at least managed to change out of his chef’s whites and into jeans and a t-shirt. Magda wasn’t looking particularly impressed, though.
“This might not rank as one of the best nights of her life,” he allowed. “Still...” But Joe wasn’t listening. Again.
Charlie looked over at Mia, who rolled her eyes.
“I think I need to save her.” Joe pushed his chair away from the table, sending it rolling into the empty fireplace, and took off toward Magda’s table. Charlie and Mia, after brief, silent, consideration, just sat back to watch.
Across the pub, Joe grabbed another unsuspecting chair and settled himself in between Magda and Kevin, grinning broadly. Even at distance, Charlie could hear him say, “Fancy meeting you two here!” in the most false tone he’d ever heard.
Magda, Charlie was amused to note, looked a little relieved.
Mia shook her head, and Charlie turned to smile at her. “Your evening getting any better?”
Mia shrugged. “Not sure yet.”
“Going to depend on the exhibition?” Charlie finished his pint with one last draw and reached for the untouched drink Joe had left behind, resolving to take this one slower.
“I think that part’s pretty much a forgone conclusion.” Mia’s smile had slipped, and Charlie felt a desperate urge to put it back somehow.
“Really?” He tried to sound upbeat. “I got the impression everyone’s waiting to see what they’ve got to offer. They’re not sold yet.”
“Mmm.” Mia fingered the stem of her wineglass.
“You don’t agree?”
She looked up and caught his eye. “They’re desperate, Charlie. We all are. This casino doesn’t just mean more tourists, it means more jobs. They’ll pretend they’re not sure, that they’re holding out, but every single one of them is secretly praying this might be the thing to saves them. I’m not even sure I should be trying to convince them it’s a bad idea.”
“Maybe the exhibition will be a flop,” Charlie suggested, but Mia didn’t look convinced.
She was, in fact, looking at the door again. Charlie turned to see what had caught her attention, and saw Becky and Tony making their way over to the bar. It was taking them some time; a number of locals wanted to stop and congratulate them, by the look of things.
“I’m sure the exhibition will be a roaring success,” Mia said, and Charlie knew he wasn’t getting her smile back that night.
* * * *
By Wednesday night, the evening before Becky and Tony’s exhibition, Mia had developed a permanent headache from trying to think of a way to help Walt and save the Coliseum.
“Upstairs with you,” Ditsy had said as they’d shut up the shop that evening. “Take a long bath, have a glass of wine, relax and get an early night. You’re not going to change the world before morning.”
Mia wasn’t entirely sure that meant she shouldn’t try.
Still, she’d done as she was told, and now she was clean, smelling of lavender bath oil, and cozy and comfortable in her pajamas and slippers. Her headache was finally receding, she had a glass of chardonnay on the coffee table and a crocheted throw blanket Ditsy had given her one Christmas draped across her knees.
And she still hadn’t found a way to save the cinema.
Sighing, she grabbed Ditsy’s book off the coffee table. Maybe some irrelevant love advice from the fifties might help. At this point, Mia was willing to take inspiration from anywhere.
Cracking it open at a random page, Mia read the first entry aloud. “B. Never go to bed angry–it makes for furious dreams.” Not particularly helpful. Still, she read on.
My husband and I, the writer announced, a little pompously, never go to bed without a few sweet words, and an ever sweeter kiss. Nothing makes the morning brighter than going to bed feeling loved.
Which was all very well for the author and her husband, but less helpful for a single girl struggling to save a cinema.
She flipped forward through the pages, pausing at H–The home really is where the heart is!–, P–Patience is an underrated virtue–and U–The most important thing about love is that it must be unconditional–before putting the book aside with a sigh.
Whatever help Ditsy expected her to find in the book, it clearly wasn’t to do with saving the Coliseum.
As she sat staring out of her window at the darkened Aberarian skies, her phone rang, and she answered without looking at the screen. “I’m relaxing, Ditsy, I swear.”
“No you’re not,” Charlie answered, and Mia sat up straight, blanket falling down to her waist. “I can hear it in your voice.”
“Ditsy’s been nagging me,” she said, tucking the blanket more securely around her.
“So I gathered.” Charlie sounded amused. “She called me to ask me to check up on you. Had a theory you might still be stressing out.”
“I’ve been relaxing! I’ve had a bath, I’ve read a book, I’m putting my feet up on the sofa.” Mia leaned against the arm of her chair and pulled her feet up, so she wasn’t technically lying.
“And I bet you haven’t stopped worrying about tomorrow’s exhibition the whole time.”
Mia didn’t have an answer that wasn’t a lie for that one, so she stayed quiet.
On the other end of the line, Charlie gave a low laugh. “Get some sleep, Mia. I promise you whatever battles you want to fight will still be there tomorrow.”
She was tired, Mia supposed. And she needed to be well-rested if she was going to come up with a constructive argument against Becky’s casino. “Yeah, all right. I’ll see you tomorrow?”
“Of course.” Charlie’s voice was husky, and she wondered briefly where he was before she decided she didn’t want to know. If he was in bed alone, she didn’t care, because they were just friends. And if he was in bed with Becky...then she really didn’t want to think about it.
“Sweet dreams,” Charlie said, and hung up.
Mia flipped Ditsy’s book open one last time, and it landed on T. “Trust,” Mia read, “is the bedrock of any relationship.”
Well, Mia trusted Charlie was having a great time with his ex-girlfriend. And she trusted Becky to break his heart any time now.
She wondered what that said about her relationship limestone.
* * * *
April Havers was looking happy, something Mia thought was a particularly bad sign.
“I don’t think I
’ve ever seen her smile before,” Mia muttered to Ditsy as they pushed past the knots of people outside the church hall, all discussing the exhibition inside.
Mia had insisted on waiting until after lunch before they visited the display, determined not to seem too interested or concerned.
They’d held out until eleven-thirty.
“Come on,” Ditsy said, grabbing Mia’s arm. “Let’s go find out what all the fuss is about.”
Inside, the church hall was almost unrecognizable. Gone were the usual trestle tables and plastic chairs. Even the old yellow and orange curtains had been taken down, allowing light to flood in through the high windows.
The white of the exhibition boards glowed in the sunlight, all leading to the center of the room, where a white foam model of Aberarian as it could be stood proud on its pedestal.
Mia ignored the posters, pictures and plans and headed directly for the 3D model. Obviously everyone else had already seen it, because her path was clear. She reached out and rested a hand on the glass covering it, looking down on the whitewashed future of her hometown.
The white foam board made the scruffy seafront neat and bright. The tumbledown guesthouses and hotels currently standing comfortably crumbling on the Esplanade were given sharp corners and stability.
And the row of empty shops leading up to the Coliseum were all merged into one, keeping the impressive vintage entrance of the cinema, and relabeled in white-on-white letters Champion Casino.
Mia turned away, finding Ditsy standing beside a poster promising new jobs for the young people of Aberarian and ‘incentives’ for local business owners.
“We’re screwed,” Ditsy murmured as Mia read over her shoulder. “Casino or not, any moral stance is going out the window when people see the extent of the development.”
“Then we’re going to have to come up with a better offer.”
Chapter 7
Charlie shifted in his seat, waiting for Mia to arrive. The meeting wasn’t due to start for another ten minutes and already the church was full. People were perched on windowsills, standing crushed against the wall and even sitting in the aisle. But he’d kept two empty chairs in the front row, between himself and Magda, just waiting for Mia and Ditsy.
An A to Z of Love Page 7
