The Little Theatre on the Seafront

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The Little Theatre on the Seafront Page 8

by Katie Ginger


  Lottie was glad she’d defended Lee against Mayor Cunningham’s accusations. He wasn’t nearly as full of himself as everyone thought he was and something like this might help him show everyone how much he’d changed.

  ‘I can’t wait to see it,’ said Gregory. ‘I’m sure you’ll be fantastic.’ Lee visibly relaxed and Lottie decided she wanted Gregory to adopt her.

  ‘I’ve, umm, I’ve never done anything proper, like Shakespeare.’ The colour on Lee’s chiselled cheekbones became more pronounced as he spoke. ‘I don’t even remember reading it at school. I was always at the back of the class messing around. Lottie can tell you that.’

  He raised his eyes and Lottie was surprised he even remembered her. She’d fancied him back then, just like all the other girls in her year, but he’d hung out with the cool kids and she and Sid had bumbled around together at the opposite end of the playground, him reading his comics while she stuck to her favourite books. ‘It’s true,’ Lottie replied, giving him a warm smile, glad she didn’t fancy him anymore. ‘You were always the one getting into trouble. But we’re all starting from square one here. And you, Sarah?’

  Sitting in the more relaxed atmosphere of the group Sarah no longer appeared snooty or stuck up. She was wearing jeans and a T-shirt and had pulled the sleeves of her cardigan down into her hands, just as Lottie did. When all eyes turned to her, Lottie saw Sarah swallow and nervous fingers started fiddling.

  ‘My name’s Sarah Powell. I work at the doctor’s surgery on Hope Road and I’m also the secretary on the theatre board.’ She smiled at Lottie. ‘I’ve never done any acting but I like to sing and …’

  ‘And?’ asked Lottie, gently.

  Sarah gave an embarrassed laugh and kept her eyes down. ‘And it took all my nerve to turn up to the auditions. That’s why I was last. I kept telling myself to go then getting scared. I’ve always got such terrible stage fright.’

  Lottie felt her eyebrows raise. Sarah had seemed so together at the committee meeting, unlikeably so, and so immune to things like stage fright. Lottie was definitely having to rethink her attitudes towards people at the moment. She hadn’t realised that everyone had insecurities, like her. They just didn’t always let them get the better of them.

  ‘I can help you with that, darling,’ said Gregory.

  Sarah’s eyes brightened. ‘Really?’

  ‘Yes. You’d be surprised how many stars get it. I’ve got some good breathing exercises I can teach you.’

  As the introductions continued Lottie was amazed to see how people encouraged each other and shook their heads at the self-deprecating comments. In an hour they had begun to bond and a good-natured camaraderie was developing. When the conversation died down, Lottie gathered their attention. ‘I thought we should begin by having a chat about what you all thought the next steps were for the theatre. What do you guys want to do first?’

  ‘I think we need to look into how much it’ll cost to refurbish the theatre,’ said Mrs Andrews gazing around. ‘Unless the committee are doing that.’

  ‘I’m beginning to,’ Lottie said, confidently. ‘And I can tell you that, at the moment, the theatre needs the roof fixing and the outside needs a clean-up. Inside, it’s all cosmetic but still fairly costly and time consuming.’

  ‘Do we have to wait for the next committee meeting?’ asked Debbie. ‘Or can we make decisions ourselves?’

  ‘Maybe we should decide on a production?’ replied Gregory.

  ‘Yes,’ said Cecil. ‘We could do a musical.’

  ‘I think we should organise a fun day to clean up the outside of the theatre,’ mumbled Conner.

  ‘Wait,’ said Lottie. ‘Quiet, everyone. What did you say, Conner?’

  Conner sunk down again. ‘Umm, I said, I thought we should organise something like a community fun day to clean up the outside of the theatre.’ He sat forward and brushed the mop of gelled hair to one side so Lottie could see his eyes. ‘It’ll get lots of people involved too and shouldn’t cost much either.’

  ‘How will it work?’ asked Mrs Andrews, obviously unaware how cleaning anything actually worked.

  ‘Well,’ Conner continued his voice a little louder this time. ‘We could pick a date and buy a load of mops and buckets, and brooms and stuff, and then have them lined up outside the theatre. Everyone can come along and just grab one and clean a bit.’

  Mrs Andrews scoffed. ‘You have great faith in mankind, or no knowledge of it at all if you think people are going to come along and clean for free.’

  ‘I disagree,’ said Lottie, seeing the blush on Conner’s cheeks. ‘I know lots of people who’d come.’

  ‘We can have some music playing too,’ Conner continued. ‘Make it a party. We can call it the “Big Clean”.’

  ‘We could have a collections box,’ said Gregory, sitting forward. ‘People might donate something. Even if it’s only coppers, it all helps.’

  ‘It’s agreed then,’ said Lottie. ‘What a great idea, Conner.’

  ‘Wait a moment,’ replied Mrs Andrews. ‘I’m not cleaning anything.’

  Lottie wondered again how best to deal with Mrs Andrews and decided she needed to assert some authority. ‘Mrs Andrews, being part of this group means us all working together. Sometimes we’ll get to do exactly what we want and other times we won’t. If anyone isn’t willing to compromise like that then they might as well leave now.’ Lottie felt a flush on her neck and cheeks as everyone looked at her. Cecil and Gregory were smirking at Mrs Andrews who stared at Lottie. If Mrs Andrews was blushing, Lottie couldn’t tell from the screen of make-up, but she hoped it had worked.

  ‘Very well,’ Mrs Andrews replied and she sat back down, twisting the large diamond ring on her finger.

  Enthusiastic voices began to all talk at once but Lottie left them to it. She moved to the side of the room and stood back leaning against the stage. Without thinking, she opened her mouth to speak to Sid, forgetting he wasn’t there. He was mysteriously busy with something today. Lottie pulled her sleeves into her hands. It was a shame. He’d have been proud of her tonight, just as her nan would. She was even a little bit proud of herself.

  Chapter 10

  Three weeks later and the Big Clean was starting. Sid took the handle and placed the brand new mop back in line with the others. Giving Lottie a warm smile he said, ‘Lottie, you’ve moved those mops and buckets around three times. Will you just calm down?’

  ‘I’m sorry. I’m just nervous.’ Lottie pulled her cardigan tighter around her.

  Sid moved around in front of her and placed his hands on her shoulders. ‘It’ll be fine. People will arrive soon. Just be patient.’

  Lottie smiled and gave a resigned nod.

  ‘And we’ve got a great day for it.’

  Lottie followed his gaze upwards. A clear cerulean sky stood over a barely moving sea, and on the pier, fishermen cast their lines, then relaxed back to wait for a catch. As Lottie drew her gaze down her eyes met Sid’s. He looked exactly the same but different somehow. She hadn’t seen him as much lately and Lottie realised she’d become so used to seeing his face she’d forgotten how deep and dark his eyes were. Like a rich coffee colour.

  Sid kept his hands on Lottie’s shoulders but his grin faded and he looked at her more seriously. More … grown up. She waited for him to speak but he didn’t. Mrs Andrews bustled over and Sid let go and shuffled a little further away. She pointed to a group of youths arriving with musical instruments and amps.

  ‘Who are that lot?’ she demanded to know.

  ‘It’s the band,’ said Lottie, standing on tiptoe and waving at them.

  Although terrifying to look at, with slick black hair and piercings, the band were made up of quite sweet lads. Lottie had expected them to be called things like ‘Punk’ or ‘Spit’ but was happy to find that Lewis, Jordan, Isaac and Rupert were very polite boys, and very thankful to Lottie for the opportunity to play at the Big Clean. It wasn’t long before they were doing a good job entertaining the blossoming c
rowd with some of classic rock’s greatest hits.

  Lottie eyed Mrs Andrews’ cream tight-fitting dress. ‘Do you want an apron, Mrs Andrews?’

  Mrs Andrews looked at Lottie like she’d asked her to ride a unicycle or something else completely absurd. ‘What for, Miss Webster?’

  Lottie hid her confusion and tried to answer seriously. ‘For cleaning.’

  ‘I’m not cleaning anything. This is Chanel. I’m supervising.’ Mrs Andrews stalked off and Lottie, with a resigned huff, followed.

  She had already prepared for this scenario and rehearsed what she was going to say, even though she had hoped it wouldn’t be necessary. ‘Mrs Andrews, can I have a quick word?’ Mrs Andrews slowed down and Lottie led her away from the others. Despite her concern, Lottie mustered her courage and kept her tone strong. ‘I know you don’t particularly enjoy cleaning, Mrs Andrews, and that you weren’t exactly in favour of this but you will have to do your bit with everyone else and keep the buckets topped up. If you don’t, people won’t help, they’ll just leave.’

  Mrs Andrews rolled her eyes and turned away from Lottie, as Lottie suspected she would. She pulled out the ace up her sleeve. ‘We’re in the public eye today, Mrs Andrews. I’ll be taking photographs and Sid will be going around getting quotes from everyone. It’s important we’re all doing our bit. I’m not asking you to scrub the walls yourself, just keep the buckets topped up with clean water. That’s all. We all need to pitch in.’

  Pursing her lips and tossing her hair back over her shoulder Mrs Andrews reluctantly nodded and Lottie went to the rest of the players to give them a pep talk.

  ‘Everyone ready?’ she asked. Smiling faces turned and nodded at her. ‘We’ve already assigned tasks so if you’re on donations duty this morning you should be going round with the buckets asking people to be generous and the rest of you are on cleaning, then we’ll swap around this afternoon. Okay?’

  Gregory and Cecil and a number of other players picked up their clean buckets with donations written on the side. Everyone else headed off to the mops and buckets welcoming those already there.

  There was a buzz in the air as more and more people arrived. Though it was only May it was still warm and children dressed in shorts and summer dresses were grabbing up mops and buckets and splashing water all over the place while their parents stood behind, directing their efforts. The Greenley Players kept the buckets filled with water or wandered around with collection boxes.

  ‘It’s going very well, isn’t it? Lottie said to Sid when she caught up with him later.

  ‘Yes. Better than I expected.’ He took his pen from behind his ear. ‘Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to go and get some quotes for the article and you need to take some pictures.’

  Lottie picked up her camera and saluted. ‘Yes, sir.’ She began roaming through the crowd, taking photos of the kids cleaning while the adults smiled fondly and scrubbed the higher parts of the walls.

  A warmth rushed through her as she realised what she’d done. Lottie never before thought she could achieve anything like this. She had made this happen and seeing the town coming together filled her heart.

  Mayor Cunningham strolled around mingling with the crowd, a smug smile plastered on his face, shaking hands and probably, thought Lottie, taking all the credit. Which was fine, she was too busy enjoying the day to care. She looked to see if Sarah was close by but she wasn’t near him. She was over with a large group of children smiling and handing out brooms.

  Lottie was just about to take a breather when a smooth, deep, voice came over her shoulder. ‘You must be Charlotte Webster. I’ve heard an awful lot about you.’

  Lottie turned to see a tall man smiling down at her. He wore a tailored shirt that clung to his arms and stomach, and jeans. When Lottie lifted her head, piercing green eyes sprinkled with flecks of gold stared quizzically back at her.

  ‘It is Charlotte Webster, isn’t it?’ His voice swirled and echoed around her head and his gleaming white smile shone like a spotlight on her face. Realising her mouth was hanging unattractively open she closed it and tried to smile.

  ‘Yes, it is. I’m umm … hello.’ Be confident, she told herself. You’re acting chairman ‘How do you do?’ She held out her hand hoping it wasn’t sweaty.

  ‘Hi, I’m Jeremy Bell.’ His stance was confident and he rested his hands lightly in his pockets. ‘You’ve done a great job here today. It’s not often you see a community coming together like this and certainly not to clean. It’s amazing.’

  ‘Thanks. It’s been a great result.’ Some hairs had escaped from her ponytail and Lottie brushed them behind her ear. ‘Do you live in Greenley too?’

  ‘Sometimes. I have a second home here, on the marina. I work in London during the week and come down at weekends.’

  ‘Right,’ said Lottie. Despite the warmth of the midday sun, she fidgeted with her cardigan, pulling it around her. ‘Do you know Mrs Andrews then? You’re neighbours.’ Lottie indicated where Mrs Andrews was. Unfortunately, at the time Mrs Andrews’ face was screwed up in disdain as a smiling girl in a sun hat handed her a mop.

  Jeremy followed her eye line and smiled. ‘I do, a bit. I don’t see my neighbours very much, though. I often don’t arrive till late on Fridays and leave Sunday evenings to be back in London.’

  Lottie searched for something to say. ‘Sounds busy,’ she managed then felt herself melting under the sight of his incredible eyes.

  ‘Well, it was nice meeting you. I’ll see you around.’ Lottie watched him walk away to stand at the mayor’s side.

  ‘Who was that?’ asked Gregory who had wandered over.

  Lottie was too busy studying Jeremy’s left hand for a wedding ring, so she didn’t respond at first. She came to and saw Gregory staring at her, one eyebrow raised. ‘Oh, his name’s Jeremy Bell.’

  ‘He’s gorgeous, isn’t he?’

  ‘Yes, he is,’ said Lottie, then realising she was speaking out loud, added, ‘if you like that sort of thing.’

  ‘You mean a tall dark handsome man with impeccable taste? What’s not to like, darling?’

  Lottie glanced over again at Jeremy. He had a confident, easy manner and a tall muscular frame but his smile was so warm and genuine. His eyes caught hers and Lottie turned quickly away.

  ‘What did he want?’ asked Gregory.

  ‘Nothing,’ Lottie said, confused. She wondered if she’d missed part of the conversation when she was staring at him or letting her mind wonder what his chest looked like.

  ‘Nothing?’ Gregory asked, smirking.

  ‘He just came over and introduced himself.’

  ‘Oh, sweetie, he was chatting you up, obviously.’

  ‘I don’t think so.’ But her heart gave a flutter at the thought.

  Gregory tutted. ‘Of course, he was. I saw the way he smiled at you. That was a come-hither smile if ever I saw one.’

  ‘Thanks for the vote of confidence,’ said Lottie. ‘But I really don’t think he was.’ She peeked back over her shoulder to catch one more glimpse of Jeremy’s face. He was chatting to the mayor but his eyes still flicked to hers. Feeling scruffy, she brushed the dirt from her jeans and pulled her T-shirt down to hide her tummy.

  Towards the end of the day, as the evening light paled, Lottie stood back and surveyed the gleaming theatre. It looked totally different and she lifted her chin and smiled. The graffiti had vanished, the paintwork was clean and the canopy glistened as the remaining drops of water dried in the sun. She lifted her camera and took a shot just as Mayor Cunningham approached with Jeremy a few steps behind.

  ‘Ah, Miss Webster, I’ve been looking for you. I wanted to speak to you about Mr Bell here.’

  Lottie quickly retied her ponytail, trying to look less like a Victorian street urchin.

  ‘Mr Bell is a property developer, interested in the theatre.’

  ‘What?’ Lottie said sharply, taken by surprise. She hadn’t expected him to say that. Her body tensed and she looked at Jeremy, whose
eyes widened too. What was going on? Was Mayor Cunningham lining up prospective buyers already? She hadn’t even had a chance to succeed yet. How could he? Anger spilled out of her voice as she spoke. ‘What do you mean, a property developer?’

  ‘Now calm down, Miss Webster,’ said the mayor, nervously glancing to Jeremy. ‘There’s nothing to get worked up about. He just wants to—’

  Calm down? Calm down? God, he was patronising. She wasn’t a child. They couldn’t take all this away from her already. She wouldn’t let them.

  ‘It isn’t what you think,’ said Jeremy edging out from behind him.

  ‘No?’ Lottie’s lip quivered as she tried to control her anger. She glared at the mayor, then at Jeremy. ‘A property developer interested in the theatre? At the moment, it seems to be exactly what I think.’ Lottie pivoted round and stomped off to the mops and buckets.

  After all the effort she had put in, that scheming dick of a mayor had a property developer on speed dial. He must have been planning this all along. No wonder he was happy for her to take over as chairman, he knew it wouldn’t be long before they sold it off. Bastard. And she was just beginning to enjoy herself.

  Lottie looked around for Sid and as she turned saw Mayor Cunningham placating Jeremy in his usual slimy way. Well, ha! Hopefully he’d change his mind now. Jeremy glanced up then came walking towards her. ‘It really isn’t what you think, Miss Webster.’ He ran a hand through his short, light brown hair. ‘Please let me just —’

  Lottie put her hands on her hips, the anger pushing the words out of her. ‘Let me guess, you want to buy the land to chuck up about a million houses no local person can afford to buy so more second homers just like you can move in?’

  ‘No,’ he said, calmly.

  Her breathing paused as she took in what he’d said. ‘No?’

  ‘No,’ he replied, the most charming smile she’d ever seen forming on his lips. ‘Firstly, that’s not the type of property I develop. I deal with other types of commercial premises – offices and things like that. And secondly, I’d like to talk to you about your plans for the theatre and see if I can help. I’d like to get involved, if I can.’

 

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