Chapter 24
Bridie heard the unmistakable shuffle of purposeful feet behind her before Hannah whispered, ‘Brace yourself.’ Hannah hadn’t long stepped back into the art and craft shop to join Bridie for a mid-morning break in the cosy corner, with a cup of coffee.
It appeared that the sisters across the yard, who had turned up for work that morning, albeit a bit later than usual, had had the same idea – to take a coffee break in Hannah’s shop too.
Bridie turned and her stomach dropped.
Mabel and Marjorie, the octogenarian sisters who ran the charity shop, stood in the doorway like a pair of Victorian gargoyles with bobbed perms and matching handbags. Their eyes were bright with recognition. And interest. And danger.
Hannah whispered, ‘This is quite unprecedented for both sisters to turn up for coffee. You’re in luck.’
‘Am I?’ said Bridie sarcastically.
‘Well now,’ Mabel said, leaning on her walking stick, ‘if it isn’t little Bridie Hart.’
Bridie forced a smile. ‘Hello, Mabel. Marjorie.’ Bridie had thought perhaps they wouldn’t remember her, but she knew she shouldn’t let their age deceive her. They remembered everything.
‘You used to come here with those boys,’ Marjorie said, squinting. ‘Oliver and Jack. Always rehearsing some scene or other. You said you were going to be on the London stage one day.’
‘I … did say that,’ Bridie admitted.
‘And you were!’ Mabel exclaimed triumphantly. ‘We read about you, you know.’
Oh, god. Bridie’s masked smile dropped.
‘My friend Enid saw you some time back in a London production and she brought us a programme. That’s how we knew your dream had come true.’
‘Oh,’ Bridie said brightening. ‘A theatre programme.’
‘Yes. We still have it, you know. We were so chuffed that a local girl had made it big in London.’
They wouldn’t be chuffed now, thought Bridie miserably, if they knew what happened.
‘So, what brings you back?’ Marjorie asked, narrowing her eyes.
They both lowered their heavy frames on to the sofa and leaned forward in anticipation, Mabel added, ‘You’re working in Hannah’s shop? Odd, that.’
Bridie’s throat tightened. She did not want to explain herself.
Hannah swooped in smoothly. ‘Bridie’s taking a sabbatical,’ Hannah said, guiding the conversation. ‘She’s having a little break on the Suffolk Coast. Rest, relaxation, all of that.’
‘Oh,’ Mabel said, eyes widening with relish. ‘A break.’
Bridie pursed her lips hoping they didn’t ask why she was taking a break, specifically.
‘Very restorative,’ Marjorie added knowingly. ‘Especially after … your final performance.’
Final performance? Bridie’s eyes went wide.
Somehow – and she had no idea how – they knew.
Probably everything. She reminded herself who she was talking to – they were not nicknamed the gossip girls for nothing.
Nothing ever passed them by when it came to the comings and goings in their local community.
‘Yes,’ Hannah said firmly, ‘her last performance.’
Bridie noticed she didn’t use the word final. Hearing that word just made things seem so … permanent.
‘Now, would you two like a cuppa while you’re here? Maisie baked some butter shortbread last night. I have some here.’ Hannah pointed at a biscuit tin by the coffee maker. There were paper plates and napkins too.
The sisters brightened simultaneously.
‘Well, why didn’t you say so earlier?’ Mabel sniffed, reaching for the biscuit tin.
‘I’m afraid Bridie and I have already had our coffee break.’
Bridie gave Hannah an imperceptible smile. She’d saved her from the Spanish inquisition. ‘Yes, I have to get back to work,’ said Bridie, grateful that at least she could feign being busy.
Marjorie rose from her seat.
‘But you’re welcome to stay,’ Hannah added.
Bridie frowned.
Marjorie looked at her sister. ‘Come along, Mabel. We can revisit our memories of Bridie’s teenage aspirations later.’
‘Let’s have a cuppa and one of Maisie’s biscuits before we leave.’
‘Oh, all right. You’ve twisted my arm.’
Bridie groaned quietly. ‘Great.’
Hannah patted her arm as Bridie accompanied her to the shop door. Hannah was going back to her bridal shop to continue setting things up. She stopped in the doorway and glanced at the sisters. ‘Don’t worry. They’ll forget most of it by lunchtime.’
‘No, they won’t,’ Bridie said.
Hannah considered. ‘No. They won’t. But you’ll get used to them. They’re harmless. They just like to know everything that goes on round here.’
‘Yeah – I get that.’ Bridie suddenly had a thought. She had intended to nip across the yard that evening, when all the shops were closed, and Reggie was in, to ask him about the theatre.
The painting of the theatre in its heyday that had been in Hannah’s shop window, which Maisie had painted from some photos she’d seen in an old shoebox that belonged to Reggie, was upstairs in the flat.
She still wanted to see the contents of that shoebox and was looking forward to seeing photos of the theatre from years earlier.
Perhaps, unbeknown to Reggie, one of the photos might have captured the owner.
She still intended to introduce herself as his new neighbour later, but she suddenly had a thought – she had the gossip girls, the old ladies who knew everything there was to know about comings and goings in Aldeburgh over the years. What would they know of the old theatre?
Bridie was about to ask, when suddenly she thought better of it. If she started a conversation, who knew where it would lead – right back to what she was really doing there.
She kept her mouth shut and scuttled around the shop, making sure she looked very, very busy indeed with no time for idle chit-chat. She couldn’t wait for them to leave. And leave they did – eventually, but not before promising they’d be back.
Bridie shut the door, breathing a huge sigh of relief. She quickly popped her head upstairs to find Barney just waking up. ‘Good boy!’ She opened his crate and remembered to take him straight outside to avoid any accidents.
Barney pulled on his lead when she tried to take him back upstairs. He wanted to stay in the shop with her. ‘All right. But you have to be good, do you hear?’
When the bell tinkled behind her as the shop door opened, she turned around, expecting to see the gossip girls again. To her relief it was Hannah who walked straight in and popped the kettle on. ‘I saw them leave and gave it a few minutes before popping back in case they spotted me.’
Barney was curled beneath the counter, content with the morning’s adventures.
‘Well?’ Hannah handed her a mug of tea. ‘I didn’t get a chance to ask you how you felt the morning went, meeting everybody.’
‘It’s …’ Bridie searched for the words. ‘A lot.’
‘And you survived,’ Hannah said, smiling.
Bridie let out a slow breath. They both knew of whom she was speaking.
She had survived. And though embarrassment prickled under her skin, there was an odd comfort too – a sense of being drawn back into a world she previously had touched only in passing.
In the peaceful glow of the shop, Bridie realised something unexpected: she felt a sense of belonging.
Maybe, she thought, this was where she had belonged all along, in Suffolk, where she had grown up. Maybe she could begin again.