A Bicycle Made For Two

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A Bicycle Made For Two Page 28

by Mary Jayne Baker


  ‘You said pursuit of profit, Ms Edge,’ Ivan said to Sienna. ‘Can you expand?’

  ‘That’s right. That’s what this is really about, whatever they say.’ Sienna spun to face me. ‘Oh, don’t think I haven’t done my homework, Lana. I know all about you. I know your ridiculous medieval restaurant’s struggling. I know you plan to use the viaduct to lure the Grand Départ through your nonentity of a village, and I know that in the end it’s all about money, money, money. It makes my stomach churn, hearing you pretend it’s for your dead father.’

  ‘What?’ I felt tears prickle in my eyes. ‘How… dare you! Who the bloody hell do you think you are? I’ve never pretended anything about my dad.’

  ‘Language,’ Ivan muttered.

  ‘Oh, sod your language, Ivan,’ I snapped. The lad blinked in shock, but he didn’t cut the mic. In the back of my mind, it occurred to me we were probably making for some pretty gripping telly.

  ‘You deny this is about bringing in customers then, do you?’ Sienna demanded.

  I hesitated. ‘I won’t deny a boost in trade would be appreciated, by a lot of local businesses. But there’s a bit more to it than that.’

  ‘Aha! So you admit it.’

  I scowled at her. ‘It’s not a crime to make a living, Sienna. Just what’re you trying to say? Out with it.’

  ‘What I’m saying is you’re a fraud.’ Her eyes narrowed unpleasantly. ‘That you’re using phoney grief to promote your business.’

  ‘God, you’re… you’re sick! He’s not been dead six months and you…’ I blinked back angry tears. ‘Do you think I’m some kind of monster?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ she snarled. ‘Maybe we should ask the bats you want to murder.’

  I couldn’t hold back any more. I burst into tears.

  ‘There are no fucking bats, Sienna!’ I yelled.

  ‘Oh my God,’ Ivan muttered as he realised I’d just dropped the f-bomb live on air. But he still didn’t cut the mic.

  Sienna blinked in shock. ‘What did you say?’

  ‘You… heard,’ I sobbed. ‘The barbastelle colony’s gone. Dead. That or moved on.’

  ‘Don’t be ridiculous. I would’ve been told.’

  I couldn’t reply. My voice was lost in tears.

  I felt a strong, comforting arm go round me. ‘Come on,’ a gentle voice whispered. ‘Let’s get you away from here, kid.’

  I went limp against Stew, my body drained. ‘But… I’m not… finished.’

  ‘Yes you are.’ Cameron had materialised on the other side of me. He gave my arm a pat. ‘Go with Stew, love. I’ll stay to represent the group.’

  I let Stewart guide me through the crowd, people staring as I sobbed through their ranks, until we reached the reservoir. There was a hidden spot overlooking the water, sheltered by a twisted yew. When we reached it, Stew took his coat off and spread it on the ground.

  ‘Sit,’ he said, nodding to it. ‘And try to calm down.’

  ‘Do you – did you hear what she—’

  ‘I heard,’ he said quietly, sinking down next to me. ‘It was out of order. Come here, love.’

  I snuggled gratefully against him.

  ‘So you think I was right?’

  ‘Normally, yes. That was an awful thing to accuse you of. But…’

  ‘…but it was live on TV?’

  ‘Yeah,’ he said with a sigh. ‘It won’t help us, Lana. We need people on our side.’

  ‘I’m sorry. Let you all down, didn’t I?’

  ‘Don’t be silly,’ he said, kissing my hair. ‘You’re our glorious leader. It’s only because of you we’ve come this far.’

  I managed a soggy smile. ‘Thanks.’

  ‘So is it true then?’

  ‘About the bats? Yes. Andy sent an expert up and he said they were all gone.’ I wiped damp eyes on my sleeve. ‘I wasn’t supposed to say anything until we’d had the official report though. I’ve really fucked up, Stew.’

  I jumped when I felt my phone buzz.

  ‘It’s him,’ I whispered when I’d fished it out of my boobs. ‘Andy Chen. You think he saw me on TV?’

  ‘If he didn’t I’m sure someone’s filled him in by now. Want me to talk to him?’

  ‘No; I need to clean up my own mess. But thanks for offering.’ I swiped to answer the call.

  ‘Good news and bad news, right?’ I said to Andy, trying to keep my voice steady.

  ‘No. Just bad.’ He sounded angry. ‘What the hell was that about, Lana?’

  ‘I’m sorry. I just – you heard what she said about my dad. I lost it. I couldn’t help it.’

  ‘For Christ’s sake! Why did you have to talk to her at all?’

  ‘Well she was… everyone was watching. Taking her side.’

  ‘I told you not to mention the bats till we had the report. God, it’ll be finalised next week, then Sienna would’ve been out of your hair. Could you not have ignored her till then?’

  I choked on another sob. ‘Sorry, Andy. I didn’t mean to. You saw, she got me all worked up.’

  ‘Of course she did, that’s how she operates. You know that.’ He sighed. ‘Never mind. It’s too late now.’

  ‘Listen, I said I was – ’ I stopped. ‘What do you mean, too late?’

  ‘I just got off the phone to our chairman: he wasn’t impressed with your little medieval meltdown. He says bats or not, the council doesn’t need that sort of publicity.’ He hesitated. ‘Look, I tried to talk him out of it but it’s no good. I’m sorry, Lana. He’s vetoed your grant.’

  Chapter 37

  ‘Lana? Lana!’ Andy’s voice was urgent.

  Silently, I took the phone from my ear and hung up.

  ‘You remember a minute ago when I said I’d really fucked up?’ I said to Stewart in a hushed voice.

  ‘I know it’s not great, but let’s stay positive. We’ve still got everything we had before, and the bats aren’t a problem now. We just need to go on a charm offensive, that’s all.’

  ‘We haven’t got everything we had before,’ I mumbled. ‘Not… everything.’

  He took one look at my expression and his brow lowered. ‘Oh no. Not the grant.’

  ‘Yes.’ I gasped, almost gagging with the effort, my throat was so dry from crying. ‘We lost it, Stew. I lost it for us.’

  ‘What did Andy say?’

  I let out a wet snort. ‘Apparently the council don’t want to be associated with potty-mouthed tavern wenches who lose it on daytime TV.’

  ‘But what can we do? We’d have to start work in January to have any chance of getting the viaduct open for the Départ.’

  ‘I know. And Vanessa Christmas as good as told me no viaduct meant no place on the route.’ I buried my head in my hands and groaned. ‘Oh God. Six weeks. Where will we find 25k in six weeks?’

  ‘There must be other funding sources. Charities.’

  ‘Not that could approve us in six weeks. And it’d take ages to raise that amount through fundraising. £25,000 was a tall order as it was.’

  Stew stared morosely over the reservoir. ‘Then we’re screwed.’

  ‘I could… resign from the group,’ I said hesitantly. ‘Maybe if you told the council the scary sweary medieval lady was gone, they’d reverse the decision.’

  ‘Absolutely not. This is your project.’

  ‘But you – ’

  ‘I said no. We won’t let you.’ He gave me a squeeze. ‘You’re for keeps, kid.’

  I blushed, wondering whether he was still talking about the cycling group.

  ‘There has to be another way,’ he said. ‘We’ve come so far…’

  I shook my head. I felt deflated from the ground up, my eyes sandy with crying.

  ‘No. This is it. I’ve ruined everything. Oh God, and after I had such a go at you about the bike ra
cks, too. I’m sorry, Stew, I’m so sorry.’ I turned wide eyes up to him. ‘How will I tell the others? We’ve got a meeting tomorrow.’

  He sighed. ‘I don’t know. I’m sorry, I wish I had a better answer.’ He gave my shoulders a last press and stood up. ‘Come on, you’d better get back to work. Let’s sleep on it and see what we can come up with.’

  ***

  I don’t know how I got through my shift. I was floating about in a daze the rest of the evening, eyes swollen with crying. Only auto-pilot guided me through the motions of clearing up and tending bar until the wedding guests had gone.

  When I’d locked up, I dragged my poor tired body upstairs. Tom was on the sofa, surrounded by empty packets of chocolate buttons and half embalmed in rioja fumes.

  ‘So how was your day?’ he asked without looking round.

  I chucked myself down next to him. ‘Had a meltdown live on TV. Got called a murderous fraud. Said “fuck” to around a million people. Reckon you can top that?’

  ‘Yeah.’ He put down his glass of wine and choked back a sob. ‘Cam dumped me.’

  ‘What? Oh my God!’ I threw an arm around him. ‘What happened? Did you have another row?’

  ‘No. He read my letter, rang me, told me calmly he wanted to take a break and hung up.’

  ‘Jesus, Tom! What the hell did you write?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ he said, burying his hands in his hair. ‘I didn’t think it was anything bad. I just said I was grateful for the time we’d spent together, I really liked him, but I wasn’t ready to meet his family and I didn’t appreciate him putting me under pressure. Oh, and I said I hoped he wouldn’t be mad at me. I specifically remember saying that.’

  ‘Bloody hell, you wrote that? In those words?’

  ‘Pretty much. Don’t you think I explained it properly?’

  ‘You sound like you’re rejecting him for a job, you muppet! No wonder he’s pissed off. I bet you signed it “sincerely”, didn’t you?’

  ‘No. “Regards”.’

  ‘Sweet Jesus.’ I shook my head. ‘Poor Cam. You’ve just confirmed everything he was worried about.’

  ‘What was he worried about?’

  ‘What, you don’t know? He said he’d told you all about it.’

  ‘Maybe he did. But when he tells me off I start to panic, and then I just nod until I can get out of the conversation without having an anxiety attack. You know I’m not good with conflict.’

  ‘He thinks you’re not ready to commit. That you don’t see a future for the two of you.’

  ‘But I do see that.’

  ‘Then you should’ve put it in the letter, you plank.’ I sighed. ‘Well, maybe it’ll be ok. “Take a break” doesn’t necessarily mean “break up”, he might just want time to think. Anyway, you’ll see him tomorrow at the meeting.’

  ‘No I won’t. He’s resigning. Asked me to pass it on to you.’

  ‘Oh no. Not that too.’

  ‘Yep. He doesn’t want to be around me, Lana. I’ve ruined everything, like I always knew I would.’ He let out a choked sob. ‘Just when I’d realised something as well.’

  ‘What’s that?’

  ‘Love him, don’t I?’

  I patted his head fondly. ‘Poor little donkey. Yeah, I know.’

  ‘What do I do, sis?’

  ‘Just give him a bit of space,’ I said. ‘Maybe he’ll come to you. He must’ve guessed how you feel about him, even if you do write a crap letter. Everyone else has.’

  ‘God, I hope so.’ He looked up from the crook of my shoulder. ‘So what was your thing? Did you say you had bad news?’

  I hesitated. ‘No,’ I said at last. ‘Nothing you need to worry about.’

  ***

  ‘Evening, petal,’ Gerry said when I got to the pub the following night, a bag of nerves as I worried how to break the news about our grant. ‘Where’s your brother?’

  ‘He’s sent apologies,’ I said, sinking into a seat next to Stew. ‘Sudden rush at the restaurant so one of us had to work.’

  That was a fib. Tom was still moping, wondering what to do about Cam.

  ‘So we’re just waiting on Cameron then,’ Sue said.

  ‘Nope. Cam’s resigned. Er, personal reasons.’

  ‘Has he now?’ Sue shot me a searching look, and I shook my head to let her know I’d explain later.

  ‘Resigned? Before we’ve finished the project?’ Yolanda pursed her lips. ‘Well I must say, I think that is most untoward. Certainly not the way I was brought up.’

  Seriously, she’d been given childhood lessons in village committee etiquette? My parents’ teachings on good manners had basically boiled down to ‘Say please and thank you and don’t wipe your nose on your sleeve’.

  ‘You were brought up?’ Stew said to Yolanda. ‘I thought you were raised by a herd of wild drag queens in the Australian outback.’ Gerry snorted, then hastily turned it into a cough.

  ‘So, does anyone have any news?’ Sue said. ‘Apart from our Lana using naughty words on the telly, but we’ll get to that.’

  I cast Stew a nervous glance, and he grabbed my hand under the table for support.

  ‘Yes, I – ’

  But before I could finish, Gerry interrupted me.

  ‘Some important news from your treasurer,’ he said. ‘The council grant came in today. That means work on the viaduct can start asap, assuming we’ve sorted this bat issue.’

  I stared at him. ‘No. It can’t have.’

  Gerry shot me a puzzled look. ‘Don’t see why not, love.’

  ‘But we… they would’ve notified us. We haven’t had approval yet.’

  ‘Well it showed up in our bank account this morning. £25,000, payer BPL. I’m assuming that’s the grant-awarding body.’

  Stewart’s hand was still in mine – it hadn’t occurred to me to drop it, somehow – and I felt him jerk when Gerry read out the initials.

  ‘Oh, wonderful,’ Yolanda said, beaming. ‘Then we made it.’

  I lifted a palm to my forehead. ‘You know what, guys? I’m actually feeling a bit iffy tonight. Think I might have a touch of the bug that’s going round. Is there any way we can reschedule? We’re a bit thin on the ground without Tom and Cam as it is.’

  Sue was examining me with concern. ‘Of course, chicken, if you’re poorly. You do look pale.’

  ‘Thanks, Sue. Really think I ought to go to bed.’ I stood and looked down at Stew. ‘Walk me back?’

  Yolanda sent me a knowing look. ‘I see. It’s that sort of bug, is it?’

  I glared at her. ‘You do not see, Mrs Smirkychops. I’m feeling a bit faint, that’s all.’

  ‘Mmm. Weak at the knees, are we, darling?’

  ‘Enough, Yo-yo,’ Stew said. ‘Come on, Lana. Let’s get you to bed.’

  I tried to ignore Yolanda’s snort as Stewart and I left the pub.

  ‘You know something about this. Don’t you?’ I demanded when we were outside.

  ‘Yes. I think so.’

  ‘Where’s the money from, Stew?’

  ‘Well, you work it out. Who’s got money like that?’

  My eyes widened. ‘Harper?’

  ‘Yes. BPL, that’s the production company he set up. He must’ve paid it through them.’

  ‘But why? How would he even know we needed it?’

  Stewart flushed. ‘I mentioned it on the phone last night. He’s been ringing me a lot lately.’

  ‘You asked him for money?’

  ‘Are you kidding? I’ve never asked him for money in my life. I just said we were screwed, by way of a general unburdening. Amazingly, it sounds like for once he was actually listening.’

  My brow knotted. ‘Bastard! This is all about me!’ I looked up at Stew. ‘Isn’t it?’

  ‘Could be,’ he admitted. ‘He asks about
you a lot. I thought it was just some weird infatuation at first because you knocked him back, but now… well, I don’t know what you said to him but he’s been acting pretty oddly since The Boneshaker.’

  ‘Take me round to his place.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Harper’s. I need to have this out with him, right now.’

  Chapter 38

  I blinked as Stewart’s car pulled up in a country lane somewhere outside Halifax.

  ‘This is where he lives?’

  ‘Yep. My Aunty Sonia bought it before she died. Daft, isn’t it?’

  I gazed up at the huge white mansion that was apparently Harper Brady’s humble home. There were at least eight bedrooms, three floors… one resident.

  ‘What does he do with the space?’

  ‘Fills it with expensive rubbish, these days. When we were kids we used to play football down the corridors.’

  He got out of the car and pressed the intercom by the spiky iron gate.

  ‘Harper, it’s me. Can you let us in?’

  ‘Us? Who’d you bring, Stew?’

  ‘Lana. She wants a word.’

  There was a buzz, and the gates swung open. Stewart drove us up to the front door and parked next to a couple of Ferraris.

  A couple of Ferraris. I mean, bloody hell.

  Harper was waiting on the step. He beamed when he saw me.

  ‘Hi, Lana. Thought I might be hearing from you.’

  I shook my head at the pillared front of his tacky house. ‘Nice place. What’s it called, Dunsqueezin?’

  Stewart laughed. Harper just looked puzzled.

  ‘No. Arncliffe House.’ He nodded to the door. ‘You coming in then? I’m assuming you got my present.’

  ‘Yeah, we got it,’ I said as I followed him in. ‘What’re you playing at, Harper? You know we can’t take that.’

  ‘Course you can. This way.’

  He ushered us into a large white-walled room, where a glass of something fizzy was sitting on a white coffee table next to what looked like a script.

 

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