Chapter 24
‘Morning, Cathy,’ Issy said as she got out of the car, but she was studying the petite woman who stood next to her.
Short dark hair, delicate pixie-like face and flawless honey skin, which she’d defaced with tattoos just visible beneath the sleeve of her shirt.
‘Hello, I’m Isobel,’ she said, extending her hand.
‘Megan Hunter-Bainbridge.’ Her handshake was firmer than expected.
Issy strongly believed you could judge a person’s grit by the strength of their handshake, a belief she’d inherited from her father, who would line his children up and critique them before they went anywhere important.
Little Issy, last in line, would watch with trepidation as he’d ridicule the efforts of her older brothers.
‘Not bad for a girl,’ he’d say to her. She was never sure if it was a compliment or not.
Something about this woman was familiar. ‘Have we met?’ Issy asked, realising as the words came out that she’d been in the café when that awful woman had refused her service. How mortifying!
‘I don’t think so. I’m doing a PhD on historical buildings in Australia, and the best ways of preserving them for future generations—’
Crap, Issy thought, biting her lip. The last thing she needed was some earnest academic criticising the development. She would have to ask her to leave.
‘This is really impressive, what you’re doing here.’
Issy smiled, pleasantly surprised. ‘It’s very important to us that the development respects the history of the site.
We’ve made a real effort to be sensitive to the original building,’ she said, although she had no idea if the architects gave two hoots about the original building.
In her peripheral vision, she could see the three additional storeys looming above the old building.
How had it been approved? It towered over everything else in Hartwell.
‘There’s something so reassuring about imagining this courtyard full of people, and your development will give them a reason to come,’ the woman was saying when Issy tuned back in. What did she say her name was? Megan something something?
Issy smiled. She liked this woman. She was talking sense. Maybe she could write something about the development for the Ashworth PR team to supply to the media.
‘Thank you,’ Issy said. ‘It’s so nice to talk to someone who gets what we’re trying to achieve here. Why don’t I take you for a tour? Just let me put my bag down.’
Cathy, who had been tapping away on her phone while they spoke, looked up. ‘Before you do,’ she said. ‘Have you emailed me a copy of the revised project plan? I don’t think I’ve seen it.’
Issy clicked her tongue and put a hand to her head.
‘Oh, sorry, Cathy. I haven’t got to it. Mum threw a spanner in things yesterday.
She’s got me hosting the gala on Saturday night, so I had to have a call with Jeffrey at Ashworth Park and go through the run sheet.
He’s taking an annual leave day tomorrow!
The day before one of their biggest functions of the year!
’ Honestly, staff in these regional places were hopeless.
And Jeffrey was one of the good ones! ‘Did she manage to rope you into coming, Cathy?’
Cathy nodded. ‘It’s a wonderful event. I go every year.’
Issy bristled, feeling schooled for her flippant tone. ‘Yes, you’re right. It’s an honour to host it.’
Cathy turned to Megan, who was patiently waiting for her tour. ‘Will you still be in town on the weekend?’
‘Yes,’ Megan said, frowning as though she didn’t follow. Issy couldn’t blame her. She wasn’t following either. ‘I’m here until Sunday.’
‘Why don’t you come along to the gala?’ Cathy suggested. Turning to Issy, she added, ‘They can always fit in one more.’
‘Me?’ Megan said, surprised.
‘Why not?’ Issy shrugged. ‘Only if you want to.’
Meg smiled. ‘Sure, okay, I’d love to come, thank you.’