Chapter Sixty-Nine
The month of July drew to a warm end. Thanks to a cloudburst, the first day of August got off to a wet start.
Shaking raindrops from umbrellas, drenched villagers filed into Starlight Hall. Rows of chairs had been set out, and they were quickly taken. It soon became apparent that there were more people than seats. Eventually, the overspill congregated in the aisles and at the rear of the hall.
‘Over here, Jen,’ shouted Alice. She waved frantically.
I hastened over to my friend who’d saved a seat for me.
‘How are you?’ I asked, giving her a quick hug before sitting down beside her.
‘Feeling ridiculously nervous,’ she confided.
‘You and me both,’ I said, looking around.
It seemed that the entire village was out in full force. I couldn’t see Liam anywhere.
The noise in the hall had become deafening. People greeted each other, shifting in their seats to make room for each other, tripping over handbags – and the occasional sticking-out foot.
The vibe was noisy and friendly, but undeniably tense. In a matter of minutes, Starlight Hall’s fate would be revealed.
Cilla was standing right at the front. She clapped her hands for both attention and quiet. Her mouth was set in a grim line. The chatter instantly ceased.
‘Welcome, everyone,’ she said, standing before the assembly. ‘We all know why we’re here, so without further ado, I’d like to introduce Sylvia Gray from Gray Estates.’ There was a ripple of polite applause. ‘Over to you, Sylvia,’ said Cilla.
A middle-aged woman in rimless glasses and a smart suit took the spot that Cilla had vacated.
‘Thank you,’ she said quietly. A deep hush descended.
The only sound was that of a fly buzzing futilely against a windowpane.
‘Gray Estates was appointed by the Diocese of Danderbury regarding the sale of this hall.’ She briefly opened her arms to indicate the space everyone was within.
‘As you know, sealed bids were made by those seriously interested in buying this property. Typically, this process is private. The seller then chooses the most attractive offer based on price, position – for example a chain-free cash buyer – and certain conditions, such as a flexible completion. I have received three bids-’
An alarmed chunter instantly broke out.
‘Three bids?’ Doreen Bird squawked.
‘If I could continue without interruption,’ said Sylvia sternly.
‘To repeat. Gray Estates received three bids. The Diocese is aware of these bidders’ identities and their legal positions.
All three bids are equally favourable in terms of being both chain free and flexible.
Therefore, the matter is very simple.’ She glared at the assembly lest anyone contradict her.
‘Put plainly, this boils down to price. And now, I shall open the envelopes.’
There was a collective intake of breath as everybody watched Sylvia Gray rip open three official-looking envelopes. She scanned them, raised her eyebrows, then rearranged the papers into a specific order. Glancing up at her audience, she cleared her throat and began to read.
‘In third place, with an offer of two hundred and sixty-three thousand pounds, is the Starlight Society.’
There was a collective groan.
‘Nooooo,’ Doreen Bird wailed. ‘This cannot be happening.’
‘Quiet please,’ said Sylvia.
‘We’re done for,’ said Alice under her breath. ‘Hetty will be predicting carnage over the cement mixers and bloodshed over the bulldozers.’
‘I said quiet,’ Sylvia asserted.
The chuntering dissipated.
‘In second place, with an offer of six hundred thousand, is Mr Liam Lancaster.’
‘Bloody hell,’ gasped Alice. ‘Who the fuckity-fuck has successfully bagged Starlight Hall?’
‘And the winning bid’ – Sylvia Gray seemed to have morphed into a celebrity reading out the nominations at The National Television Awards – ‘at eight hundred thousand pounds’ – she paused dramatically – ‘is… Mrs Jennifer Armstrong.’
‘What?’ screeched Doreen.
‘Who?’ said the man sitting beside me.
‘Omigod,’ said Alice. She turned to look at me. Her eyes were full of tears, but she was also smiling. ‘That’s you.’