Do Not Disturb

by Cressida McLaughlin

  ‘He’s not performing like you are,’ Robin emphasised. ‘He’ll be the bookends holding the evening together. People are coming to hear you and the other acts.’

  ‘And I, for one, can’t wait,’ Tim said, slipping into easy charm mode, his grin competing with the sun’s glare. ‘That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. I’ve been following your posts these last few days, and it sounds very impressive. It’s a long time since there was any kind of public event in Campion Bay.’

  ‘There were the New Year’s fireworks,’ Robin said, pouring a glass of iced lemonade from the jug and pushing it towards him. ‘And there are some in a few weeks, too.’

  ‘OK, but aside from fireworks, the Campion Bay social scene has been seriously lacking. I can’t think of anything better than an open-mic night. What you’re doing is beyond generous.’

  ‘Everyone’s pitching in,’ Robin said. ‘The residents of Goldcrest Road have kind spirits.’

  ‘The taverna and the teashop will make heavy profits from the event you’re working hard to put on. And you can’t tell me that all the equipment you’re hiring, the stage set-up, the posters – none of that’s costing you anything?’ He raised an eyebrow, and Robin gave a tiny shrug.

  ‘In the scheme of things, it’s not too much to lay out. The toy shop in town has offered to provide free glow sticks, and the Dorset Outdoors shop has ordered in a stock of plastic ponchos in case the weather turns bad.’

  ‘Yeah, Robs, but all that set-up?’

  ‘So what, you’re going to sweep in like a knight in shining armour and pay for it all? How do you know I’m not sitting on a pot of money?’ She folded her arms and glared at him.

  Tim sat on the bench next to Robin and took a sip of lemonade. ‘I’m not offering to pay for it outright,’ he said, directing his words to both Robin and Lorna. ‘But why not let Campion Bay Property sponsor the event? We’d get some good publicity, and I’d love to be associated with your open-mic night. It’s the kind of thing Malcolm and I have talked about doing for a while, and this seems like the perfect place to start.’

  ‘Sponsor it?’ Robin asked, incredulous. ‘But there are four days to go. How much publicity do you hope to gain in that short time?’

  Tim’s grin widened. ‘We can start promoting it on our social media pages, send over our logo for the photos you post, get a banner produced to run along the front of the stage. Every little helps – and in exchange, we put some cash into the event to help with what you’ve already laid out.’

  ‘Wow,’ Lorna said, before Robin had a chance to reply. ‘That sounds fantastic. You’d do that?’

  Tim nodded, looking serious. ‘Sure. It makes perfect sense. If an up-and-coming local business can’t get involved in something like this, then they’re not trying hard enough to make an impact in the community. The way I see it, everyone wins. What’s not to love?’

  ‘There is nothing not to love,’ Lorna said breathlessly, and Robin tried not to roll her eyes. She had to concede that, despite the personal angle, it was a very generous offer. She couldn’t see any way she could turn it down, not now that Lorna was gazing at Tim with eyes that wouldn’t have looked out of place on an adoring puppy.

  ‘We spend a lot of time having covert conversations in your hallway,’ Tim said, as Robin walked him to the front door. She had wondered if Tim’s sponsorship offer was the sole reason he’d come round, or if he was combining it with a visit to see Will. The thought was unsettling, especially as Will was still blocking all her attempts at proper conversation.

  ‘There’s nothing covert about this,’ Robin said, leaning against the wall.

  ‘There is about what I have to say,’ Tim said. ‘Which is … sorry.’

  A gasp escaped before Robin had a chance to hold it in.

  Tim gave her a wry smile. ‘You don’t have to look that shocked.’

  ‘I just … What for?’

  Tim put his hands in his pockets, glancing away from her and then back. ‘For lots of things. For point-scoring when Will was here, for the other night and what I tried to do. I was drunk, Robs. But the feelings, the sentiment, they’re there. I haven’t been very straightforward since you’ve been back, but that’s because seeing you again caught me off guard.’

  ‘It did?’ She narrowed her eyes.

  ‘I’m sorry for making you feel uncomfortable.’

  ‘And for wanting to develop next door?’

  She saw the light leave his eyes, but he recovered quickly. ‘That’s business, and I’m not going to apologise for trying to make a success of my career. I’m not saying I’ll walk away, but it’s not up to me: it’s up to Will. Anyway,’ he said, poking her gently in the shoulder – it was an affectionate, unsure gesture that made Robin feel a squeeze of warmth towards him – ‘you’ve changed the subject. I shouldn’t have tried to kiss you last time I was here. And, if I hadn’t had four double whiskies, I wouldn’t have, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to. If the circumstances were right—’

  ‘They’re not going to be right, Tim.’

  ‘Why not? Why not give it – us – a chance?’

  ‘Because we’re in the past,’ Robin said, wishing she didn’t have to have this conversation now. Not in her hallway, with Lorna in the other room and Will next door, stonewalling her.

  ‘It doesn’t have to be like that. Let me take you out, after the open-mic night. I know it’ll be a late finish, but there’s this great little bar a bit further along the coast that serves food up until midnight. Delicious tapas, you’d love it. A hidden gem.’

  ‘I’m going to be exhausted after it’s over.’

  ‘All the more reason to let me spoil you. Let’s get away from here, the two of us, have some time to see how we feel about each other. We can’t do that here, with snatched conversations and fleeting visits. Just this once, Robs. Let your sponsor take you out to celebrate – as part of the business deal.’

  She looked at him, waiting for his smugness to radiate towards her, but she saw that he was nervous, his lips pinched, eyebrows raised slightly in anticipation. It was that, more than anything else, that made the decision for her. She had no reason not to go with him, and besides, it was only one meal, part of the sponsorship deal. Two people who’d known each other for two decades, catching up. It didn’t mean anything if she didn’t let it.

  ‘I thought this stage was supposed to be like IKEA furniture,’ Molly said, panting, her T-shirt sleeves rolled up to her shoulders. ‘It’s like the bloody Krypton Factor.’ She held up a sturdy steel brace and a metal clamp, and tried fitting one into the other dejectedly.

  ‘I’m sure if we follow the instructions we’ll be fine.’ Adam, Paige’s boyfriend, was crouched on the promenade looking at the flimsy booklet that had accompanied their hired stage. They were between Maggie’s crazy-golf course and the sea, the spot where they were holding the music night. Robin had checked the regulations with the council, making sure they could get a temporary noise licence in time. The last thing she wanted was for her event to be broken up by the police for being too loud or in the wrong place. But it seemed that everything she wanted to do was possible in Campion Bay, as long as the concert area and food stalls were appropriately cordoned off. However, there wouldn’t be an event if they couldn’t get the stage built.

  ‘This is how these companies do it,’ Paige said, hands on her slender hips as she surveyed the mess they were making. ‘They hire out these things for pennies, and make their money by charging to erect them for you.’

  ‘It would have been an extra two hundred pounds for them to build it,’ Robin said, wiping perspiration from her brow, the curls around her temples turning to frizz in protest at the heat and exertion. ‘At the time, it seemed ludicrous to add that much on for putting it up.’

  ‘And now?’ Molly asked pointedly. ‘Especially with Tim’s sponsorship?’

  ‘Obviously, if I’d known what Tim was going to do, that it wasn’t going to be a cost I’d have to absorb, I�
��d have felt differently,’ Robin sighed, realising that Molly was right, that even if she’d had to pay the extra, it would have been worth it. But hindsight was a wonderful thing, and they had to deal with the current situation the best they could.

  Her arms were aching and her knees, bare in denim cut-offs and pressing into the hard concrete of the promenade, were throbbing. Not to mention that she felt entirely bamboozled by the pieces of metal and hardboard laid out in front of them. It had been dropped off rather haphazardly, she thought, by the company she’d hired it from, and they’d driven away gleefully after giving her the instructions and a basic risk assessment, clearly aware of the hours of torment that were ahead of her because she had chosen to save some money.

  She swore under her breath and tried fitting another part of the metal frame together. She couldn’t give up. It was Thursday evening, less than twenty-four hours before kick-off, and she was sure that even if she called the company and pleaded with them to come back and do it for her, they wouldn’t send anyone until the following morning. And one rule Robin had learned from her Once in a Blue Moon Days was that you never left anything to the last minute – not if you wanted to survive the event without becoming a puddle of stress. She could also, she thought, have stuck to the rule about paying for professionals and doing everything properly, but it was too late for that now.

  ‘There are four of us,’ she said, exasperation edging into her voice. ‘How can four of us not make this work? We’ve refurbished a whole bloody guesthouse between us. I mean, seriously.’

  ‘It’s very like scaffolding,’ Molly said. ‘Or Meccano. Who do we know who’s good at Meccano? Adam, are you Meccano or Lego?’

  Adam rolled his eyes at the age-related jibe. ‘I’m sure if we fiddle about a bit, we can make it work.’

  ‘We are not fiddling about a bit!’ Robin’s voice reached fever pitch. ‘People will be standing on this stage, in front of a large crowd. We can’t take any chances, can’t risk it falling down and injuring anyone because we thought it would be OK to “fiddle about a bit”!’ She stood up, brushing her knees down angrily, and then realised that Molly, Paige and Adam were looking at her with wide-eyed apprehension.

  ‘Jeez, Robin, calm down,’ Molly said. ‘Everything’s going to be fine.’

  ‘I know, but I can’t risk Lorna, or any of the other performers – or Will – being up here and then it all—’ She stopped in mid-flow, replaying Molly’s earlier words: It’s very like scaffolding. She knew one person who had years of experience working on building sites, who – she was sure – would find this as easy as Jenga, but hopefully with a more stable outcome.

  ‘We’ll get it right,’ Paige said, patting her shoulder reassuringly.

  ‘We might not have to.’ Robin dusted herself down and headed purposefully in the direction of number four. ‘I’ll be back in a jiffy.’

  She couldn’t help her heart rate ratcheting up a notch as she got closer to the tall grey building, the blue plaque glinting in the evening sunshine. Would he be in? Would he be prepared to talk to her, after over a week of staccato text replies, and refusing to meet with her before the concert to discuss his role? Well, they needed him now. This wasn’t a ruse cooked up so that he’d be forced to rescue her. She genuinely didn’t know what they’d do about the stage without his help.

  She climbed the steps quickly and knocked on the door before she had a chance to change her mind.

  She heard movement inside, a low voice, and then the door opened and Will stood before her, looking relaxed in grey shorts and a navy cotton T-shirt that clung to his torso, emphasising his wide shoulders. Robin was caught off guard, his looks and her attraction to them more pronounced after a few days without seeing him. He was holding a bottle of beer, condensation glistening on the outside, and Robin licked her lips, imagining how good the cold, refreshing liquid would taste.

  He didn’t start at her appearance. Instead, his eyes widened in what looked like concern. ‘Robin, are you OK?’ He reached his arm out towards her, his fingers hovering inches from her skin, and she realised how much of a state she must look. She glanced down and saw that her vest top was covered in grease marks from the metal poles, and that her knee was slightly grazed. Her face must be red, sweaty and surrounded by a halo of frizz. The contrast between them couldn’t have been greater.

  ‘Oh,’ she said. ‘Yes. Yes, I’m fine.’ She felt a physical ache, wanting so badly to hold on to that moment of caring from him, after days of him treating her like an irritating stranger. ‘I mean, no. I’m not OK, not really.’

  ‘What is it? Do you want to come inside?’ Now his fingers did graze her arm, and she felt it like a spark of electricity. Their eyes held, and she knew he had felt it too.

  ‘No, I can’t.’ She dragged the words out. She would love to go inside with him, to finally talk, to start to heal the rift between them. ‘We’ve got a problem with the stage for the music night … In that we can’t build it.’

  Will stared at her, his expression incredulous. ‘You’re building the stage?’

  ‘Yes. We’ve hired it from one of those companies, and—’

  ‘You asked for the contract that didn’t include putting it up and taking it down again?’

  ‘It was so expensive,’ Robin sighed.

  ‘Because it’s not that straightforward.’ She saw amusement dance in his eyes.

  ‘I know that now. Can you – I mean, I’m sorry to ask, but there are four of us at it and we’re still struggling. And I thought, with you having worked on building sites …’

  ‘Yes,’ he said. ‘I can help.’

  ‘You can?’ She couldn’t help the smile. ‘I mean, I know you can, but – but will you?’

  He didn’t answer immediately, and she wondered if he’d temporarily forgotten that he was mad with her, and she’d just reminded him and he was going to say no, and close the door, and then she’d be desolate and stressed, with no way of getting their stage up and a hole in her heart as big as the one that was currently where the stage should be.

  ‘Yes, Robin. Of course I’ll help. Give me two minutes to get some shoes on, and I’ll be with you.’ He gave her a gentle, wary smile, as if he was trying it out after not having used it for a while. ‘Here, look after this for me.’ He handed her his bottle of beer. ‘And if it’s all gone by the time I get back, I won’t complain. You look like you could use it.’

  He disappeared into Tabitha’s hallway, leaving Robin standing on the doorstep feeling as light as a feather. She took a long, refreshing swig of beer, enjoying the coolness as it slipped down inside her, and then wondered if, right now, alcohol was the best idea. She was feeling giddy already, at his concern, his kind words, the glimmer of warmth she’d seen in his eyes. She waited for him, knowing unequivocally that she’d made the right decision not to pay for the stage to be erected. For once, it looked like being less than completely organised was about to pay off.

  Chapter Six

  Will tightened the final screw with the electric screwdriver and stood back, wiping his forearm across his brow. ‘They shouldn’t be allowed to loan these types of structures without putting them up for you,’ he said. ‘It’s not safe.’

  His tone was kind, exhausted perhaps, but Robin still felt guilty. She had always prided herself on doing things to a high standard, but on this occasion she’d let her pettiness get in the way, thinking she could do it all on her own to save some money. Not to mention the minuscule timeframe she’d given them all to work with. However, it had led to Will helping them, which was a definite silver lining.

  ‘This whole thing has been such short notice,’ she said. ‘My options were limited when I was looking for local companies. But it’s entirely my fault that we were left with this job to do. I can’t thank you enough, Will.’

  ‘You’ve saved our bacon,’ Molly added. ‘And I hope you’ve been practising your introduction.’

  Will put the screwdriver back in its box and grinned. ‘I’m not su
re what I need to say yet, so …’

  ‘Why’s that, I wonder?’ Molly asked lightly. Robin had been keeping her friend up to date with the terseness of the texts that had been passing between the two of them, so she already knew the answer.

  He had the grace to look sheepish. ‘I take full responsibility for that, so …’ He shrugged. ‘Now’s as good a time as any.’

  Adam and Paige returned from Molly’s house with a six-pack of cold beers and handed them out. Molly watched closely as, once the adults each had a bottle, Paige passed one to Adam, then took one herself. There was a moment of silence, Robin holding her breath as she waited for Molly to explode, but her friend simply raised her eyebrows and extended her arm, pointing at Paige with a slow, sinister finger.

  ‘Just one, because you’ve earned it. But don’t think this is permission for any other day or occasion beyond this one beer, right here, right now. Understood?’

  Paige grinned, clinking her bottle with Adam’s. ‘Understood. You’ve got to let me grow up sometime, Mum.’

  ‘Baby steps,’ Molly said, a warning in her voice. ‘Baby. Bloody. Steps. Don’t get any ideas.’

  Robin sank on to the promenade wall and Will sat beside her with a sigh. He no longer looked immaculate and relaxed: he looked like he’d spent a whole day on a building site.

  ‘Sorry to ruin your evening,’ she said.

  Will shook his head quickly. ‘You didn’t. And this is a good reward. The satisfaction of seeing the stage set up for tomorrow night, and having a cold beer with this view.’ He swivelled to look out over the sea which, in the gathering dusk and beneath the promenade lights, was an eerie violet hue. The water was calm, small waves caressing the shore. Robin closed her eyes and breathed it in, imagining it this time tomorrow, bustling with people, the rhythm of the tide masked by chatter and song.

  Sometime in the last few minutes, Molly, Paige and Adam had disappeared without saying goodbye. Robin was sure that was Molly’s doing. ‘It’s perfect, isn’t it?’ she asked softly.