Chapter 25
Saturday morning in Aldeburgh dawned crisp and bright, the sky a pale winter blue, the light making the high street shine like polished glass.
Bridie pulled her coat tighter around her as she walked towards The Two Magpies Café, Barney trotting happily at her side, his tail swinging like a metronome.
She’d checked with her dad that Barney had had all his injections so he could be taken out on short walks.
He kept stopping to sniff at doorsteps, lamp posts, a plant pot outside a cottage.
Everything was new to him. In a way, it felt new to her too.
Hannah had said, ‘Go. I’ve got the shop. It’ll do you good to get out,’ when she’d asked if she could go to meet a friend during her morning coffee break at work. She’d promised she wouldn’t be long, but Hannah had just waved her off, telling her to take as long as she needed.
Bridie wondered how she’d found such kindness so quickly in this little pocket of Suffolk. She wasn’t sure she deserved it.
The Two Magpies Café was already buzzing, the windows steamed up, the smell of fresh pastries drifting out each time the door opened. She spotted Oliver immediately – the same table by the window, a mug of tea between his hands, the same easy half-smile when he saw her.
‘You came,’ he said, standing as she approached. ‘I wasn’t sure you’d remember.’
‘Of course I remembered,’ Bridie said as Barney jumped up, little front paws on her lap.
‘Down!’ Bridie commanded. She’d been practising with Barney in anticipation of taking him out into the high street.
He was such a cute pup that she’d guessed it would probably take an age to walk down the street to the café, and it had – they’d stopped half a dozen times or more for strangers to say hello.
She told Oliver this. ‘That’s why I’m late!’
She had known that Barney would get excited and jump up. She’d issued the command so many times that she was bored of hearing herself. But each time, Barney obeyed, even in the café surrounded by distractions.
Oliver gave her a lop-sided grin. ‘I didn’t know you had a dog.’
‘Ah, yes. Well, it wasn’t exactly planned.’
‘Well, he’s better company than half the people I know – present company excluded, of course.’
Bridie laughed and took a seat opposite him and launched into how it had come about that she’d found herself with a pup, and a job, and a flat.
‘Wow! What a difference a week makes!’ said Oliver, scratching Barney behind the ears. ‘You know, if it doesn’t work out living in a flat with Barney, there’s still a spare room going in my place. And I have a garden.’
Bridie knew that she wouldn’t dream of moving in with Oliver – not that she had anything against house-sharing with him.
She had an income, so she would be able to pay him some rent, but she was thinking it would be awkward if he started a relationship.
She was wondering about the young mum who had approached his table when she was leaving the last time she’d seen him in there.
She said, ‘How did it go with the young lady?’
Oliver frowned. ‘What young lady?’
‘You know … last Saturday when I was leaving the café and a parent, a woman, had some question or other about her son’s schoolwork.’ Bridie had thought she was rather pretty.
‘Oh – that,’ he said dismissively. ‘I said I’d sort it out when I’m back at school.’
‘Ah, you didn’t stop and chat?’
‘Why would I? It’s work.’
Bridie nodded. Did Oliver not get that the young woman had just been using the homework as an excuse to join him?
Bridie had caught the young woman and her friend looking at her curiously when she’d joined Oliver, clearly hoping that he was still single.
Bridie had done her best to give that impression when she’d left, not wanting to dash any of the woman’s hopes that she might be in with a chance. She seemed nice.
Barney, who had been sitting sweetly under the table, suddenly jumped up, paws on Oliver’s lap, angling to be picked up.
‘Barney! Down!’
Barney turned his head and gave her the sad brown eyes routine.
She wagged her finger and pointed at the floor.
She ordered a coffee with Barney settled at her feet, and for a moment everything felt normal. But the envelope in her coat pocket felt like a stone dragging her down.
‘It’s nice,’ Oliver said after a sip of coffee, ‘seeing you again. Really nice. I know everything’s … different now, but I’m glad you’re back.’
Bridie knew what he meant; they weren’t teenagers anymore. She was surprised, though, at how quickly they’d slipped into their old easy familiarity considering they’d hardly spoken in fifteen years.
‘I’m glad too,’ Bridie admitted softly. ‘And thank you again for offering your spare room last week. Really. But I’d have been terrible company.’
‘You? Never.’ He paused. ‘Though I’m still not convinced you didn’t purposely set me up with that woman who asked about her son’s homework.’
Bridie smirked. ‘It might have crossed my mind that she fancied you. The look on her face said she seemed very put out when she saw me sitting at your table. I guessed you normally come here alone.’
‘You guessed right. And I knew it!’ He pointed at her triumphantly. ‘You were matchmaking.’
‘It was either match you up or watch her keep pretending she wasn’t staring at you over her coffee.’
Oliver chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. ‘Well … we did talk for a bit. She was nice. But not—’ He hesitated. ‘Not what I’m looking for, I suppose.’
Something in his tone tugged at her, but before she could untangle it, he leaned forward. ‘Anyway. How are you settling into your new home?’
‘Very well,’ she said, smiling. ‘It’s small, and the sofa might be older than I am, but … it’s mine for now. And Barney – having him with me has made it feel like a home.’
‘And you’re working in Hannah’s shop? I buy all my materials for school from Hannah.’
‘She’s been amazing. Truly. I thought I’d be making tea and stacking shelves, but she’s actually letting me help with displays and ordering stock.
It feels … purposeful.’ She fiddled with her coffee spoon.
‘After everything that happened in London, I needed that, something to take my mind off … things.’
Oliver nodded gently. ‘Your ex, he was a producer, wasn’t he? Is that why you lost your theatre work in London – he put a stop to your working in any more shows?’
Bridie stared at her coffee. ‘You could say that, but …’ she grimaced, ‘it was my fault, really,’ she said softly.
He reached across the table and gently put a hand over hers. ‘I’m sure that wasn’t the case.’
‘I’m afraid it was.’ Bridie looked at him and lowered her eyes. She wondered what he’d think of her if he saw the clip of that fight on stage.
‘You don’t have to tell me what happened.’
She realised that he had guessed she hadn’t told him the whole story. But he didn’t push. That was the thing about Oliver. He never pushed.
He said, ‘You’re here now, and that’s all that matters, and I want to help in any way I can.’
Bridie smiled, letting out a shaky breath. ‘Actually … I do need to ask a favour.’
‘Anything.’
She pulled the crumpled envelope from her pocket and slid it across the table.
Oliver frowned. ‘What’s this?’
‘I don’t know,’ Bridie whispered. ‘And I’m scared to open it.
I think it’s something legal. From the theatre.
About breaching my contract. Or something.
And I thought if I didn’t open it, it might go away.
Which is stupid, I know. It’s just after everything that’s happened, I just didn’t think I could face something else. ’
Oliver turned the envelope over. His face softened. ‘You want me to read it?’
Bridie nodded.
He didn’t hesitate. He tore it open carefully, unfolded the paper, eyes scanning quickly. Then his brows shot up.
‘What?’ she asked, heart hammering. ‘Oliver? What is it? Oh, god! Am I being sued for, like, breach of contract? Am I—?’
‘Bridie,’ he said slowly, ‘you’re not in trouble.’
She blinked. ‘I’m not?’
‘No. Quite the opposite.’ He turned the letter so she could see it. ‘It looks like you’ve inherited a property.’
Bridie stared at him. ‘A what?’
‘A property. A building.’ He took a breath. ‘A theatre, actually. The Little Theatre by the Sea. Here. In Aldeburgh.’
Her voice wobbled. ‘That can’t be right. I didn’t even know the owner.’
‘Well,’ Oliver said, sliding the letter to her, ‘he or she clearly knew you.’
Bridie snatched it up, reading with widening eyes. ‘A solicitor in Ipswich. Transfer of ownership. Instructions to collect keys.’
The Little Theatre by the Sea.
The old building she’d loved as a teenager. The place she’d once dreamed of performing in which had miraculously reopened to stage her drama group’s play and then had promptly closed again. The place she, Oliver, and Jack had sneaked into after school to rehearse imaginary plays.
Her hands trembled.
‘Oliver,’ she whispered, ‘what … what is this about?’
‘I have no idea,’ he admitted. ‘But it’s something good.’
She let the words settle. Something good. It felt impossible. ‘Is it?’ she said. ‘What on earth am I going to do with a run-down theatre?’
‘Do it up and stage a play? Star in your own show?’
Bridie stared at him, Julian’s words coming back to haunt her. You’ll never work in this town again. But if she had her very own theatre, her very own stage … But of course, as with everything in life, things were never that simple.
‘Where would I get the money to do it up?’ Bridie could already foresee complications.
Oliver leaned forward. ‘You know, you don’t have to do that. The theatre is right on the seafront. You could just sell it. I expect you’ll get a good price even though it’s run-down. Someone will snap it up and develop it.’
‘But that would be such a shame. What about the local community?’