Chapter Thirty-Eight #2
She turned to Erin, tears welling in her blue-green eyes.
‘There’s no judgement at The Bookmark. No one cares about your gender, the colour of your skin, where you were born, if you’re rich or poor, old or young.
’ She scrunched up her face and turned to the crowd.
‘Unless you’re a dick. Then we’ll judge you very harshly indeed.
So don’t be a dick, people.’ She waited for the laughter to die down.
‘Seriously, though, The Bookmark’s always been a special place, right from when Erin’s mum started it almost four decades ago.
’ She viewed the room, her expression turning serious.
‘And we need places like that more than ever, don’t we?
Out in the big wide world people are forgetting that it’s our shared humanity that connects us.
Far too many people have lost sight of the fact that we can learn from our differences and become better and stronger in one diverse and glorious community. ’
Erin listened, rapt like the silent crowd. She thought of Adam’s last pages and his description of the flowerbed, filled with blooms of all different varieties. She felt a new appreciation of those words, and a bursting pride in the wonderful young woman standing beside her now.
Riley continued, as the audience hung onto every word.
‘But since so many people seem to have forgotten that love is stronger and more powerful than hate, it’s down to us to demonstrate that we still hold that truth in our hearts.
We need to keep that knowledge alive in places like The Bookmark, where everyone is safe and accepted.
In this mad, mad world it’s crucial that there’s always somewhere to go where a smile is guaranteed and the coffee is good.
’ She leaned forwards, ‘And believe me, the coffee is very good, and I’m not just saying that because I’m the one making it. ’
As if waking from a spell, the audience laughed.
‘So I’ll finish this little rant by saying thank you for coming out tonight in aid of these two brilliant causes, but please, please don’t let this be where your support ends.
After this evening, I hope we’ll have secured the future of The Bookmark for a little while longer at least.’ She pointed a stern finger at the crowd.
‘If you all become our regulars, then we can keep it going long-term, so you know what to do, right?’ She wagged her finger and the audience grinned and nodded along.
‘That’s agreed, then. Good. I’ll see you all on Brigade Street soon.
Tell me you were here tonight and I might just shake a little extra chocolate on the top of your cappuccino. ’
As rapturous applause rang out, Riley turned to Erin. She dropped the microphone to her side and said quietly, ‘Thank you for all you’ve done for me. I meant what I said, you’ve been more of a mum to me than my own ever was. I love you.’
Erin took her in her arms and gripped her close. ‘I love you too, you brilliant, brilliant woman. Thank you. Thank you so much.’
They released each other, and Erin waved at the still-applauding crowd as she left the stage to the sound of Riley announcing her first performance piece, ‘Pants Up, Camera Down’ to delighted whoops from the audience.
At the end of the night, Erin’s cheeks ached from grinning.
Everyone from book group offered to help with the last of the clearing up, but Erin insisted she, Riley, Gavin, Adam, and Jack could manage the rest. Susan and her family finally left the venue, Mercy trailing behind, after innumerable hugs and congratulations.
It was now past midnight and everyone was ready for bed although, with the adrenaline still coursing through Erin’s entire body, she was sure she wouldn’t sleep a wink.
When Riley, Gavin, and Jack went off to dismantle the PA system, Adam led Erin to a chair. ‘That was spectacular,’ he said. ‘What a night.’ He paused. ‘I didn’t know what I was missing before I found your book group.’
She clapped her hands gleefully. ‘You’re a convert to the last page strategy at last! I knew I’d get you in the end.’
‘Absolutely not,’ he said laughing and taking her hands in his.
‘You’ll never convince me of that one. I mean all this.
’ He gestured out to the room. ‘The way everyone came together to make it happen. I’ve never been involved in anything like it before.
I didn’t know how good it felt to be part of a group, a community where everyone wants the best for each other.
It’s … it’s pretty bloody special.’ He looked into her eyes. ‘You’re pretty bloody special.’
Her heart swooped so high she thought it might leap right out of her mouth.
‘Back at’cha, Mr.’ She squeezed his hand, hoping to convey just how much his words meant to her through her touch.
After a moment of gazing at each other with daft grins on their faces, she said, ‘Now I know how much the café means to everyone, not just me, I really, really hope we’ve made enough to give me the time to make the business work again. ’
‘About that,’ he said. ‘What I started to tell you earlier was that I’ve found out who owns the building.’
‘Galmouth Estates own it, don’t they?’
‘Yes, but only one man is behind that company. He’s called Julian Fengrove.’
The name meant nothing to Erin. ‘Who’s he?’
‘The husband of Pam Bothick.’
‘Now, I’ve heard that name before.’ Erin tried to work out where, but couldn’t pin it down. The speakers squealed as the leads were unplugged.
‘She’s a council bigwig and it turns out she’s on the planning committee that would decide on the change of use for the old gift shop from retail to restaurant.’
‘Oh,’ said Erin, sitting up straighter.
‘And guess whose name is on the application for opening a restaurant there?’ He raised his eyebrows.
‘Luke Fengrove, son of Pam and Julian. They must’ve hoped that, just because he doesn’t have his mum’s surname, and the building is owned by a company, no one would work out they’re trying to play the system. ’
‘They didn’t factor in your journalistic spidery senses, did they?’
‘They did not. And I’m pretty sure that increasing your rent by eight grand a quarter to try to force you out, and lying about the comparables, would be seen as pretty shady by the members of the committee who don’t happen to be related to the applicants. So, what do you want to do about it?’
Erin made a humming sound as she thought. She looked around the venue, the seed of an idea burrowing into her mind as she took in the space. ‘I think it’s time I spoke candidly to Mr Fengrove. If I arrange a meeting, want to come along?’
‘Hell, yes,’ said Adam. ‘Happy to be your wingman.’
‘Good,’ said Erin. The seed of the idea was already growing roots and green shoots at an astonishing pace. ‘And, now I know what’s really going on, I’ve had another idea, but it might be completely bonkers.’
‘Sounds like fun,’ said Adam, an excited spark in his eyes. ‘Go on.’ The spark got brighter and brighter as she outlined her brand new plan.