Magda leaned across the gap and whispered, “Are you sure she’s coming?” Her gaze jumped to the crowds of people without seats glaring at the jackets saving the two between them.
“She’s coming,” he said with as much conviction as he could muster. “She wouldn’t miss it. It might be her only chance to stop the plans,” he added in a lower voice.
Raising her pale eyebrows, Magda settled into her chair, arms crossed over her chest. “Unless she saw the exhibition,” she muttered.
Charlie winced. All he’d heard since he arrived was how impressive a show Becky and Tony had put on. This wasn’t going to be easy.
Mayor Jayne Fielding took to the pulpit, Tony and Becky standing to her left, both of them smiling. Where the hell was Mia?
“I hope by now you’ve all had a chance to view the Aberarian Revitalization exhibition in the hall next door,” Jayne said, glancing at its architects sitting to the side of the pulpit, in front of the altar. “I’m sure you’ll all agree it’s very impressive. Now, Becky and Tony have kindly agreed to answer any general questions from the community before they move forward with the council and the land owners in question. So if you’d like to...”
“I have a question.” Mia’s voice rang clear from the back of the church, and Charlie closed his eyes. He’d hoped to talk to her before she went into battle.
With a deep breath, he turned and watched Mia pick her way through the people in the aisle toward their chairs, apologizing when she clipped fingers and stood on toes and skirts, Ditsy trailing behind her along with... Was that Walt?
Charlie had the feeling he’d missed the planning stages of whatever Mia had up her sleeve, and he wasn’t sure whether to be grateful or annoyed.
When the trio reached the front row, Charlie realized Mia wasn’t stopping. Instead, as Ditsy and Walt slipped into the seats he’d saved, Mia pushed past the crowd, and the mayor, and up the pulpit steps to the microphone, ignoring Becky and Tony completely. And then she started to speak.
“I want to ask everybody here a question.” Mia paused, and Charlie felt her gaze pass over the crowd, touching on him lightly before moving on. “How important is your home to you? Not just your house, or your street, or even the town itself. But this community. These people.”
The crowd was starting to murmur now, and Charlie hoped Mia knew where she was going with this. Beside him, Ditsy patted his hand.
“What would you and your family know about community?” someone called from the rear of the hall. Charlie couldn’t see who, but it didn’t seem to have phased Mia in the least.
In fact, a small smile crept onto her face. “If you think what my dad did to this town was bad for the community, you’re going to hate what these guys have planned.”
“More business, new jobs, richer tourists?” The speaker and a few people around him laughed. “Sure, I hate it already!”
“What about not being able to afford your own home? It’ll be more valuable as a holiday home, see, even if it’s empty half the year. What about seeing poor Walt having to sell his dream?” Two seats over from him, Charlie saw Walt wince. “What about losing all the old buildings on Station Road, not just the cinema. What about a town square filled with pubs and stag parties, and all the shops pushed out to some shopping center on the outskirts?”
There was quiet for a moment after Mia finished speaking. She was right, Charlie knew. It wasn’t just the casino–that was the first step of some fundamental changes to the town.
Then somebody else called out, “It’s not like we have any other options.” Charlie turned and recognized Neil, owner of one of the seaside shops down by StarFish. “I’ve got to get some new business from somewhere.”
“Then let’s make it ourselves,” Mia said, the plea evident in her voice. “I’ve seen the plans, I know they’re impressive. But they’ll change our town completely, and not for the better. We might have work, but we’ll all be driving in from flats two towns inland to get to it.” She paused and looked around the room again, and Charlie wondered if she’d ever spoken so honestly, so earnestly before in her life. If she had, he’d never heard it.
Up at the front, the mayor came closer and asked, “Do you have an alternative suggestion?”
“Walt doesn’t want to lose the Coliseum. If we worked together, like a real community, we could save it. And in doing so, raise money and the profile of the town. Bring in more tourists ourselves.”
“How?”
Charlie felt his breath catch in his chest. Because this was it, really it. If she didn’t...and Mia had already paused long enough to make him worry.
But then she smiled, one of the wide, all-encompassing smiles he rarely saw, and Charlie started hoping again. “We need to look to the things that have always made Aberarian great in the past,” she said. “What made young families want to visit, or even stay. What made it fun. What gave it soul.” She smiled again. “Starting with the Fish Festival.”
Beside her, apparently reaching the limit of how long she could stay quiet and not interfere, Becky scoffed. “Fish Festival? If you’re relying on a celebration of herrings to save you...”
“Wait.” Jayne Fielding held up a hand. “How do you mean, Mia?”
Mia leaned her elbows forward on the podium and spoke out to the crowd. “When I was a kid, the Fish Festival was the biggest event of the summer. The whole town turned out to make it great. People came from all over to be here.” She paused. Then, “It was the biggest weekend in Aberarian’s economic calendar, too.”
“Dad used to sell more fish on festival weekend than he did for Good Friday,” Joe said, from the other side of the hall. Around him, other locals were starting to nod. Charlie let himself relax, just a little, for the first time that evening.
The mayor wasn’t looking convinced, though. “Unfortunately, this year’s festival is looking...precarious.”
“Then we need to fix it.” Mia’s voice was firm, and around him Charlie heard murmurs of agreement.
“Are you offering to take it on?” Jayne asked.
Charlie held his breath until Mia said, “Yes.”
The hall turned silent for a long moment before erupting in conversations.
“Did you know she was going to do this?” Charlie asked Ditsy, having to raise his voice so she could hear.
Ditsy shook her head. “I’m not sure she knew.” Beside her, Walt was sitting in stunned silence.
Mayor Fielding called the room to order from beside the pulpit, and Mia moved aside so she could reach the microphone.
“That’s a very generous offer, Mia.” Jayne’s tone was just a touch patronizing. “However...”
Tony stepped forward for the first time and Charlie winced. “However there is no guarantee your plan will succeed,” Tony said. “And I think I’m right in assuming that the rest of the town won’t want to pin all their hopes on a summer fete.”
The rest of the town, Charlie guessed from the conflicted chatter around him, had no idea what they wanted.
“But we have to give it a chance,” Mia said. Her voice was still passionate, but she’d lost her audience. Reminded of what was at risk, the locals were a lot less likely to take chances.
Unless there was a way they couldn’t lose.
“Stand up,” Charlie said to Walt, dragging the older man to his feet when he didn’t comply fast enough. Charlie turned Walt so they were both facing the rest of the town and started speaking before he could overthink what he was doing.
“There is another option,” he shouted, but no one was paying him any attention until Ditsy stood up beside him, stuck two fingers in her mouth, and whistled.
Suddenly everybody was listening. “Henry taught me how to do that,” Ditsy whispered before sitting down again.
Charlie started again. “It doesn’t have to be all or nothing,” he said, very aware of everyone staring at him. Him, Charlie Frost, who’d only lived in Aberarian for two years. Who ran a fish restaurant, for heaven’s sake, and
had an obvious vested interest in both options. Still, he’d started now. “The plans for the casino are going to take time to put into place, right? Even the sale of the Coliseum.” Charlie glanced at the stage to see everyone but Mia nodding. Mia was staring at him with a crinkled brow, obviously wondering what the hell he was doing. Wish I knew, he thought.
“The Fish Festival’s just over a month away. If Walt here,” Charlie gave his companion a gentle shake. “If Walt wanted to hold up the sale of the Coliseum by a month or so, he could, right?” Another shake, and Walt started nodding. “So let’s give Mia a chance. Let’s see what we can all achieve in the time we have left, working together. And if, after the festival, we still can’t afford to save the Coliseum, then Walt will sell and we’ll all get jobs at Champion’s Casino. Right?”
The crowd was nodding again now. Charlie glanced behind him again, and saw Mia return to the microphone.
“Give me the month,” she said, her face clear and honest as she looked out at the crowd. “Give me the festival. And if I can’t deliver what you need...” She looked back at Becky and Tony. “Then you know you’ve got a second option.”
From the way she said it, Charlie knew that if the Fish Festival didn’t turn their fortunes round, Mia wouldn’t be staying in town to see how the new Aberarian panned out.
Mayor Fielding took the microphone again. “All right. I think in these circumstances, a vote might be in order. All in favour of Mia’s plan...” Just over half the hands in the room went up. Close, but enough. “Well, then. I think that settles it.”
Tony wasn’t looking happy. “I’m sure you won’t mind if we keep moving on the other preliminary stages of our plans. Just in case, you understand.”
“Of course,” Mayor Fielding said, but Charlie rather thought she was hoping it wouldn’t prove necessary.
Mia, on the other hand, was looking more nervous than when she’d started.
“Since there’s no time to waste,” she said, her voice sharp, “the first proper planning meeting will be Monday morning at StarFish.” She looked down at Charlie, who jumped. “If that’s okay with Charlie,” she added, and he nodded. He never had been any good at telling her no, anyway. Why start now? “Then I look forward to seeing anyone who wishes to join the committee there at ten.”
Charlie stood to follow Mia as she swept out of the church hall and couldn’t help but wonder what he was going to feed whoever showed up. And if they were actually planning on paying.
Magda would be happy, anyway. She’d been wanting to serve breakfasts for ages.
* * * *
It wasn’t until she was standing outside StarFish two mornings later, decked out in her best tea dress and Ditsy’s pearls, that Mia stopped to think about Charlie. She hadn’t seen him since the meeting, their usual Saturday night sacrificed to festival planning with Ditsy. She’d really dropped him in it, hadn’t she? She winced and hoped he’d be grateful for the custom rather than cross she’d landed him right in the middle of the biggest town gossip fest since...well, since her father left. As a rule, Charlie ignored all and any rumors, and they mostly avoided him. It had worked well enough so far, but Mia had a horrible feeling that was about to change.
Well, he’d spoken up for her idea, hadn’t he? Even if he hadn’t actually volunteered to be Festival Central, he was at least on board with the plan.
Shaking her head, she tried to concentrate on mentally preparing herself for the committee meeting, running through all the things she’d discussed with Ditsy the night before. But Ditsy was stuck in the shop, and Mia had to do this alone. What if nobody shows up? A worse alternative occurred to her when she pushed open the restaurant door to see Becky perched at the bar counter, sipping coffee and looking like she’d always been there.
Charlie had pushed together a number of square tables in the center of the restaurant. Most were empty, but Mrs. Susan Hamilton and Enid Jones were already sitting stiff-backed on opposite sides of the table. Not seeing Charlie around, Mia took a deep breath and was about to head across when Becky spotted her. Jumping to her beautifully heeled feet, Becky bounced over, looking perkier than anyone had a right to at a committee meeting, and grabbed hold of Mia’s hand.
“Mia! Such a great thing you’re doing. I was just so...inspired by your words on Saturday.” Mia blinked. Becky was actually gushing. What does she want? “Don’t worry, I’m not staying–not the right vibe, really, is it. But I just wanted you to know I’m sure the town will appreciate what you’re doing, eventually. I mean, I know Aberarian as well as you do, and they’re always resistant to change. Have to feel they’ve tried everything before they bow to the inevitable.” Becky hadn’t lowered her voice at all, and she seemed unaware of Enid and Susan glaring at her from across the restaurant.
Too stunned to say anything much, Mia found herself nodding even though she disagreed with everything Becky was saying.
Still smiling, Becky winked. “Tell Charlie I’ll see him later,” she said, and headed out into the street.
Mia turned to the committee table, where the two older women were staring at her. What was she supposed to say now? Was this it? How were they ever going to manage a festival with three people? And where was Charlie? And...
With truly excellent timing, Magda appeared from the kitchen, carrying two trays of teas and coffees and croissants with jams and, spotting Mia, veered closer and whispered, “Don’t worry,” in Mia’s ear before saying louder, “Mia, great that you’re here. Could you just come and...”
Mia took hold of a tray and followed gratefully. Then, as Magda put down her load, the young Polish woman made an announcement cementing her best friend status for life. “After yesterday’s meeting, I’ve been inspired by Mia’s determination to serve our community.” She sat down in one of the empty seats. “I, too, will join your committee.”
She beamed at the other women and, after a moment, they smiled back. Mia let out a breath, relieved to have someone on her side in the room, and put down her tray to take her seat.
She sat, noticing too late that she’d chosen the head of the table. It took another long moment to realize that, as self-appointed head of the committee, she was in the right place.
Magda gave her an encouraging nod from three seats down, and Mia took a deep breath and began. “Okay. Well. Thank you all for coming. Probably the best place to start is with what’s been done in the past.”
“I need to say something first,” Susan Hamilton said. “I know people think I’d be thrilled to be rid of that damn cinema. But the truth is, Walt loves it. And, more importantly, and I want to be very clear here, I hate that Becky Thrower. Always have. I know everyone always thought she was sweetness and light, but she made my daughter Cassie’s life hell in high school.”
Mia bit her lip to stop a smile. Finally, something they could all get behind.
“Secondly,” Susan went on, “you want to ignore everything they’ve done in the last five years.”
Mia glanced across the table. Enid Jones was nodding. “I’ve been on the festival committee for over a decade. It’s been a pile of horse muck for at least the last five. Maybe six.”
“Okay...” Mia looked down at the notes she’d made with Ditsy, then turned to a blank page. What did she and Ditsy know about the festival anyway? These were the women who’d been running the damn thing. “So, what do you suggest?”
Enid and Susan both started talking at once. “Um, if we could, one at a time, please?” Mia asked, and the women slowed and obliged, after an extended ‘you first’ pantomime.
Mia hadn’t even noticed Charlie come out from the kitchen until he bent down from behind her to whisper in her ear. “See? You’re a natural.” With a smile, he slid into an empty seat.
And suddenly Mia relaxed, and started listening and making notes and trying to figure out how the hell they were going to save this festival.
It wasn’t long before it became obvious that what had been done in recent years was more constrained b
y budget than enthusiasm. Mia sighed. “Okay, well, obviously the first port of call is fundraising.”
Around the table, the committee members–Enid, Susan, Magda and now Charlie–were nodding.
“Well, we can do the usual pre-festival raffle, of course,” Enid said, and Mia scribbled it down. “Maybe some sponsored activities, too. But we need something more.”
“I might be able to help a bit,” Charlie said, raising his hand tentatively. “Maybe some sponsorship from suppliers or selling ad space in the festival program.”
“It’s worth a try,” Mia agreed, adding his ideas to the list. “I guess maybe we’ll need to go farther afield than before.” Last year’s festival, Mia recalled, had been sponsored by the Crooked Fox, which meant a large sign pointing to the pub, away from the festival itself, and all the men over eighteen drinking all day. Not quite what they were looking for.
“What about fireworks at the end?” Susan asked, sounding wistful. “It’s been years since we had fireworks.”
Enid jumped on board. “And a concert? Oh, but how will we pay the bands?”
“Maybe we could ask local bands to play for free, just for the exposure? And perhaps we can get someone to lend us the AV equipment for free advertising?” Mia was thinking on her feet, but as the words came out, it sounded pretty reasonable.
“My question,” Magda said, “is why do people want to come to this festival? I’ve not been before. Why should I come?”
There was a pause. “Well, it’s...” Susan started, then stopped.
“It’s a celebration of Aberarian,” Enid said.
“It’s a celebration of fish,” Magda countered.
“You’d think you’d have a better opinion of them, given that you work in a seafood restaurant.” Mia suspected Charlie had meant his words to only be heard by Magda, but Enid and Susan were both hiding grins too.
An A to Z of Love Page 8
