Chapter 25 #2
‘I’m all for being community minded. I mean, I teach. It’s fairly well paid, so I can’t really complain, but then again, it’s long hours and hard work. I’m not doing it for the money. Look, the point I’m making is that you have to think about what’s good for you.’
Bridie folded the solicitor’s letter back into its envelope, her fingers trembling slightly. A theatre. An entire theatre. The thought alone made her head swim.
Oliver leaned back in his chair, considering. ‘If you sell, a developer will snap up a seafront plot like that. Probably turn it into flats or a holiday cottage.’
‘Mmm,’ Bridie murmured. She didn’t know what she wanted. Not yet. ‘It’s all too much to get my head around.’
Oliver’s expression shifted suddenly. His eyes lifted over her shoulder and he grimaced.
‘What?’ Bridie asked.
Oliver leaned forward, voice dropping. ‘Speak of the devil.’
‘What do you mean?’
He didn’t look away from whoever was behind her. ‘He’s just walked in. Jack. Let’s just say the word around town is that he’s been trying to buy up that theatre for years. Problem was, nobody ever knew who owned it.’
Bridie stiffened. ‘Jack? As in – Jack Jack?’
Oliver nodded once.
She started to turn in her seat, but Oliver reached across and grabbed her hand. ‘Don’t,’ he whispered. ‘Let’s pretend I didn’t see him.’
Bridie froze. ‘Okay,’ she breathed, straightening again.
The last thing she needed was a developer chasing her before she’d even processed what the letter meant, even if the developer was an old friend.
Bridie raised her eyebrows. She didn’t need to remind herself that he was more than an old friend.
She leaned in. ‘Can we keep this between us? The theatre, I mean?’
Oliver smiled gently. ‘Of course. My lips are sealed.’
Before she could thank him, a familiar voice cut through the hum of the café.
‘Bridie?’
Her stomach flipped. Slowly, she looked up.
Jack stood beside their table holding a tray, staring between her and Oliver. His blond hair was shorter now, neater, and he looked tanned, polished and irritatingly handsome in chinos and a pale blue shirt with a jumper draped casually over his shoulders.
Her heart skipped a beat. ‘Hello, Jack,’ she said, feeling the colour rising in her cheeks. She cursed herself for coming over all shy.
‘Ollie, you didn’t mention she was back.’ Jack eyed Oliver accusingly.
Bridie blinked. ‘You’re still friends?’ Oliver hadn’t mentioned that.
Oliver’s expression shifted into something strained. He shook his head. ‘I teach his son.’
Bridie’s mouth dropped open. She looked up at Jack. ‘You have a son?’
She looked around for a teenager but saw no one. Instead, a woman approached the table – a woman Bridie recognised from school. Jade. She’d been in the year below them.
So, he’d moved on quickly. All those years she’d felt guilty for breaking his heart after their A-Levels – guilty for choosing London, choosing the stage, choosing a dream he’d never understood – only to find he’d built a whole life without her.
Jack turned back to Oliver. ‘Yeah, I left him at home to sulk. You and your blasted drama club. I told him no, he’s not joining, and that’s final.’
Bridie raised her eyebrows. What was wrong with people and drama clubs? First her niece’s issue, and now this.
Jack faced her again. ‘So, you’re back.’
Before she could answer, Oliver said, ‘Yes, Bridie’s working in Cobblers Yard.’
Jack’s jaw twitched. ‘Are you back for good?’
Jade reached them then, slipping seamlessly against Jack’s side. Recognition flickered in her eyes when she looked at Bridie.
‘Jack?’ she prompted impatiently.
‘Oh, um – this is Jade,’ he said stiffly.
Bridie said nothing, feeling irrationally jealous. She didn’t need an introduction.
‘You remember Bridie?’
Jade shrugged, indifferent. ‘Yeah. Course. I thought you were getting a table?’ Jade added.
‘Yeah, I am,’ Jack muttered.
‘Well, come on then!’
But Jack didn’t move. He just stared at Bridie, something sharp in his gaze.
‘I’m not surprised you’re back,’ he said coldly. ‘After that embarrassing episode on stage.’
Bridie’s breath caught as Jade’s lips curved in a small, satisfied smirk, like she’d been waiting to watch this exact moment. ‘Oh yeah,’ Jade said lightly. ‘That. Doubt you’ll ever work in a theatre again.’
Under the table, Barney suddenly growled and jumped on Jade’s shoe, his jaws closing around Jade’s designer trouser leg, yanking and growling like he was playing tug of war.
‘Bloody hell!’ Jack said, ‘get your bloody dog off her!’
A waitress who had been clearing a table intervened. ‘I’m sorry, but if you can’t control your dog, you’ll have to leave.’
‘Sorry,’ Bridie apologised to the waitress, not to Jade. She rather felt she deserved it after what she’d said.
‘Barney!’ Bridie grabbed his collar and said, ‘Down!’ for the umpteenth time.
Barney immediately let go and retreated under the table.
Jack finally turned away, Jade tugging him toward an empty table.
Bridie stared at the wood grain on the café table, her vision blurring. Shame, like a sour taste, rose in her throat at the thought that they’d seen her last performance on stage. She couldn’t imagine they’d been there in person, but that didn’t make her feel any better.
Oliver touched her arm. ‘Ignore him,’ he said softly. ‘He’s an arse. Nobody likes him here. He buys up property, tears down lovely old houses, and builds horrible flats, then sells them to out-of-towners for ridiculous prices. No respect for the community at all.’
‘I want to leave,’ Bridie whispered. She wasn’t sure in that moment whether she meant leaving the café, or Suffolk.
Oliver shook his head. ‘Don’t leave because of him. He is a bully. A wealthy one. And people like him think they can treat everyone like rubbish.’
Bridie swallowed hard. ‘He wasn’t like that before.’
‘People change,’ Oliver said quietly.
‘You haven’t,’ Bridie said, managing a smile.
Oliver smiled too. ‘And neither have you. Still, the same sweet-natured Bridie.’ Oliver glanced over at Jack and frowned. ‘He’s no friend of mine anymore.’
She nodded, unable to meet his eye. ‘But you heard what he said. About the … the episode.’
Oliver reached across the table again and gently took her hand. ‘I don’t care,’ he said. ‘Whatever happened in London stays in London as far as I’m concerned.’
Bridie looked up. In his eyes – steady, kind – she realised he already knew. Somehow, he knew about her outburst on stage. Bridie didn’t want to ask how he found out. Perhaps it had popped up on his social media feed. Bridie imagined so. She decided not to ask.
He squeezed her fingers. ‘It’s all in the past now. Forget that. And forget him.’ Oliver glanced toward Jack’s table. Bridie followed his gaze.
Jack was staring at them – at their joined hands – his expression betraying something raw and unexpected. He looked rather angry.
Bridie blinked. What on earth was that about?
‘So. The question is …’ said Oliver, drawing her eyes back to his kind face. ‘What are you going to do now?’
Bridie looked at the envelope, gripping it in both hands like a lifeline. ‘I suppose,’ she said, heart thudding, ‘that I’m going to Ipswich.’