Chapter Thirty-Three
Erin spent a restless night dreaming she was on the back of Adam’s motorbike, clinging on to his jacket for dear life as the countryside whizzed past at a terrifying rate.
His jacket became slippery, as though coated in cooking oil, and she was finding it increasingly hard to keep hold.
She eventually lost her grip, and the tarmac of the road rose up to meet her.
She jolted awake, hair stuck to the sweat on her neck and gasping for breath.
The dream left her with a new sense of unease, and she was tired and grumpy when she arrived at the café.
She scanned the shelves for weepy books and, with a surge of satisfaction, she found Me Before You by Jojo Moyes.
She sat and reread the ending before setting up for the day, letting the tears flow freely.
‘What’s the matter?’ Riley rushed to her side when she came through the door. ‘Has something happened?’
Erin held up the cover for her to see. ‘All the uncertainty is getting to me. I just needed a good cry,’ she said.
‘That book will do it,’ said Riley, squeezing her shoulder. ‘Feel better?’
‘Yeah.’ Erin wiped her face. ‘A bit.’ She gazed up at Riley’s lovely face. ‘I’m sorry things are up in the air at the moment. If you want to look for somewhere else to work, I’ll completely understand.’
‘I won’t have that kind of defeatist talk,’ said Riley. ‘We’re not beaten yet. Gavin’s coming at eleven. He might have some ideas.’
‘True,’ said Erin, trying to sound more hopeful than she felt. A vision of her and Jack standing in their flat surrounded by their all worldly possessions packed in boxes, as they listened to the sound of bailiffs’ boots approaching their door scored across her brain. She blinked it away.
Riley wound the hem of her T-shirt around her finger, looking suddenly bashful. ‘I wanted to talk to you about the other night. About Jack.’
Erin lay the book on the table and stood. ‘It’s none of my business, lovely. You’re both adults.’
‘I know, but it must’ve been pretty fucking weird to find me in your kitchen.’
It was far more weird hearing the two of them in the bedroom next door, but Erin didn’t mention that. ‘A bit.’
‘And I know you worry, so I wanted you to know we’re cool. We’ve talked and both agree it was a one-off, no biggie and we’re still mates. It’s all good.’
‘Pleased to hear it,’ said Erin. ‘Thank you.’ Jack certainly didn’t seem to have been negatively impacted.
He wasn’t pining for Riley after the encounter, so hearing she was fine too was reassuring.
Young people did things differently to Erin when she was their age, but that didn’t mean it was wrong if no one was hurt.
When Gavin arrived at The Bookmark at 11 a.m., the café wasn’t busy so both Erin and Riley had time to chat.
‘Do you think we could make this into some kind of daytime venue,’ said Riley, after making him an oat milk latte.
Erin’s heart clenched at the sight of her wide, hopeful eyes.
Despite her optimism, she must be worried sick about her job since she didn’t have a wealthy boyfriend as a safety net anymore.
Not that she’d ever have viewed him in that way, but Erin knew firsthand how hard it was to only have yourself to rely on.
‘What kind of gigs?’ said Gavin, adjusting his glasses and peering around the room.
‘Dunno. Maybe like open mic, or poetry readings? Things that might bring in return customers.’
‘There’s not a lot of free space for performers.’ He rolled his lips over his teeth. ‘Maybe if you got rid of the armchairs, that would free up an area over that side.’
Erin took in the lovely old brown leather seats her mother bought decades before.
Four of the six were occupied now. ‘The trouble is, they’re the most popular seats,’ she said.
‘I can’t imagine getting rid of them. If we did, then we’d have to put in more tables and chairs, otherwise we might not have enough seating.
’ More expense, more risk, for no guaranteed return.
Gavin turned to take in the empty tables behind them, and she could see why he might be sceptical. ‘How do you think your regulars would respond to live events?’
Erin had no idea. It was something she’d worried about herself.
A few people still came into the café to work, and they would almost definitely find somewhere else to have their coffee and cake if there was a performance going on.
Every change she thought of implementing had potential pitfalls.
That was one of the problems with change, it could go many ways.
‘No idea.’ She needed a crystal ball so she could see how various scenarios would play out.
She needed a crystal ball full stop. Or did she?
She’d always craved being able to predict what was coming, but if the future was as bleak as she anticipated, now she thought it might be better not to know.
‘It could bring in a crowd, though,’ said Riley.
‘It could,’ said Gavin, doubtfully.
‘We won’t know unless we try,’ said Riley, her voice rising in pitch.
‘There’d have to be some changes before you gave it a go, and you’d need to do a fair bit of advertising.’ Gavin’s voice didn’t sound hopeful.
Erin slumped into a chair at an empty table. ‘I’ve got to give notice soon.’
Gavin pulled out a chair and sat, and Riley did the same. ‘You could give it a try, see what works.’
She smiled and nodded, reluctant to show how hopeless she really felt. There wasn’t the time or the money. She was going to fail and somehow that felt even worse now the others were all rooting for her to succeed.
‘You need deep pockets, like the developers down in Kidbrooke,’ Gavin continued.
‘They’ve hired me to set up their community hub.
They’ve got this amazing space, but they don’t know what to do with it.
They’re aware the estate used to have a real sense of community, and they want to recreate that, so I’m looking at what people down there want and how to make it happen. ’
‘Nice gig,’ said Riley.
‘Yeah. I’m thinking about everything from art sessions to writing workshops, and all kinds of music stuff.
It’s pretty exciting and it’s a rare and beautiful thing to be handed a project with a proper budget.
’ He turned to Riley. ‘I’m going to set up some spoken word gigs as soon as the place is up and running.
Why don’t you come and take a look around one day. ’
‘We’d love to, wouldn’t we?’ Riley said. ‘Erin used to be an events coordinator, didn’t you?’
‘It’s true,’ she said. ‘About a million years ago.’
‘What about after you close up here tonight?’ Gavin said, with fresh enthusiasm. ‘Any input would be massively appreciated. Between you and me, it’s the biggest job I’ve had, and I’m feeling a bit out of my depth.’
He gave them the address and when he made his way out of the café, Erin felt grateful for the distraction. It would be nice to help someone else solve a problem, because she sure as hell couldn’t solve her own.
The venue consisted of the whole ground floor of a newly built apartment block a stone’s throw from Kidbrooke station. Gavin was waiting for them inside, and they followed him through to a collection of large, interconnecting rooms.
‘We want it to be a day-to-night venue,’ he said. ‘I’m thinking this would be a café lounge kinda thing.’
Erin could easily envisage how the room could be made cosy with the right seating and lighting. ‘Would you have book groups, things like that?’ she said.
‘Yeah, that’s what I’m thinking. I’m already talking to this group who run a silent book club. You’ve probably heard of them, they’re massive. They do that Desert Island Reads thing on YouTube.’
‘The one with that woman from Parker who runs the bookshop in Chislehurst?’ said Riley. ‘She’s so fucking cool.’
‘That’s right,’ said Gavin. He turned to Erin. ‘I love the vibe of your place, actually. Don’t hate me, but I was thinking of copying your wall of books.’
‘Great,’ said Erin, with mock annoyance. ‘You’ll be nicking all my customers, next.’
‘That’s the good thing about this place,’ Gavin said. ‘It’s got a built-in customer base. Five thousand new homes have been built around here. As long as we get it right, there’s potentially thousands of customers within walking distance.’
‘Nice.’ Erin could only imagine the potential revenue of this place when it was up and running. ‘Will there be a restaurant?’
‘Yeah,’ said Gavin. ‘It’s going to be pretty casual, though, just upmarket café stuff. Like your place.’
‘It sounds like you’re totally ripping off The Bookmark,’ said Riley. ‘You should be paying Erin commission.’
‘I prefer to think of it as being inspired by Erin,’ Gavin said, imperiously, as he walked through to a bigger space.
‘Careful what you’re inspired by,’ said Erin, envious of all the potential. Gavin was young and hopeful and at the start of something, instead of the end, like her. ‘You want to make a profit, don’t you?’
‘Yeah, but it’s not the vibe of your place that’s the problem, is it? It’s rising costs, and not enough space to diversify. You’ve got plenty of good ideas between you, but not enough space to realize them.’
Erin couldn’t help but be flattered by what he said. Maybe the demise of The Bookmark wasn’t entirely her fault after all.
‘And this would be a bar, with a raised area there for performances.’ He pointed at the far end. ‘Not a stage, exactly, but big enough for bands.’ He swept his hand towards the centre of the room. ‘We’d have tables and chairs, but they could be moved to make a dance floor.’
He carried on to a smaller room. ‘I’m thinking this would be a workshop area for drawing, painting, writing, that kind of thing. We’d get local creatives to run the sessions, so that it’s a proper community venture.’
‘I love it,’ said Erin. She could visualise everything he mentioned so clearly. ‘It’s a great space and I think it will work really well.’
‘Do you?’ Gavin’s eyes were imploring, and Erin saw that he really did feel out of his depth.
‘I honestly do. And if there’s anything I can do to help, just let me know. It might be ten years since I last coordinated any big events, but I still remember how to make a to-do list and manage.’
‘I appreciate that,’ said Gavin. ‘I talked my way into this job, and I think they like the fact I used to live here, but I’ve been worried I might have over stretched myself.
I’m more used to booking bands for gigs at The Amersham in New Cross than I am putting together a plan for an entire venue.
’ He lowered his voice. ‘Between me and you, I’d love to manage the place myself, but I don’t think I’ve got the experience they’re looking for. ’
‘You’ve got it this far,’ said Erin. ‘And you seem to know what you’re talking about to me.’
He smiled shyly. ‘Thanks. Maybe I should put myself forwards for the job.’
‘Reach for the stars,’ said Riley. ‘I have faith in you.’ She punched him on the arm.
‘And if there’s anything I can do to help, you know where I am,’ said Erin. ‘I still know my way around a budget, a contacts list and a calendar. You can shadow us at the café any time you like, if that’d be useful.’
Gavin grinned. ‘Appreciate it.’ His smile dropped. ‘I wish I’d been able to help with The Bookmark. It’s a great place. It’s a shame it’s not working for you.’
Erin sighed. ‘I’m beginning to feel like it’s a lost cause.’ She put her arm around Riley’s shoulders. ‘If I can’t save it, maybe you could get a job here,’ she said. She turned to Gavin. ‘If you’re in charge of hiring, then this one comes very highly recommended.’
Riley pulled away. ‘Don’t give up yet. We might be able to turn it around.’
Erin was moved by the hope in her friend’s voice, but after viewing the bright modern space before her, she was fighting the opposing feelings of being inspired by all the potential, and fear that she’d left it too late to make the changes The Bookmark needed to survive.