by Katie Ginger
‘About bloody time,’ muttered Cecil.
And when Sarah and Nate parted, she turned to Cecil and tutted. ‘Everyone’s a critic.’
Chapter 22
FOUR MONTHS LATER
Sarah supervised as Nate dragged a box up the stairs and into Sid’s, now his, flat then headed straight back out for another. He was finally back from America and it had been a tough few months being apart, especially as their relationship was so new. But he’d flown back and forward as much as he could, and they’d spoken every day. They were steadily getting to know each other and the slow, easy pace suited Sarah. It was like their hearts were joined by a string and when they were together, they wrapped around each other, linking them together forever. When they were apart, the string simply stretched but remained unbreakable.
Emma and Nate had publicly announced their split, and after he’d moved out he’d decided to buy a place down in Greenley. With Sid having moved into Lottie’s, his flat had gone on the market and when Sarah mentioned it to Nate in one late-night phone call, Nate had immediately made an offer to Sid. She hadn’t realised how much he’d fallen in love with the town, or the flat after their single coaching session there. The sale had gone through nice and quickly and Nate was happy to be moving in just before Christmas. He wasn’t due back in America for a month and even then, Sarah thought she might go with him this time for a little holiday.
‘Shall I get the kettle on?’ asked Lottie who was helping him move in too, along with Sid who’d been roped in for some heavy lifting.
‘Ooh, yes please,’ Sarah replied. ‘I could murder a cuppa. It’s freezing out there.’ The December rain battered the window and the strong winds blew through the bare branches of the trees. She peered down at the removal van parked on the kerb and admired Nate’s strong body as he took a box from the van.
Life in Greenley had settled down nicely since that wonderful night four months ago. The players were getting ready for the opening night of the panto in just over a week’s time. And this time, Mrs Andrews had a starring role and not as the pantomime dame, or the wicked witch. Gregory was having a go at directing as Conner was off on an internship with a production company, arranged by Nate. Sid and Lottie were happier than ever, and wedding bells seemed a step closer. Lottie had even press-ganged Nate into becoming a patron of the theatre. Ben had a job as a delivery driver for the local supermarket and was absolutely loving it. He’d even moved into a small one bedroom flat in Greenley.
As far as Finn was concerned, he’d got his comeuppance when he’d double booked a lunch date and received a swift knee to the groin in the surgery waiting area. Sarah and Mandy had enjoyed the spectacle, especially his hobbling back to his consulting room wincing in pain.
A sudden gust of wind whistled around the building as she heard Sid and Nate climb the stairs and come in through the open door. They were becoming firm friends, which wasn’t a surprise as everyone liked Sid, but it was still wonderful that Nate was settling in so well. ‘How are you doing, boys?’ Sarah asked, pulling one of the many boxes towards her to try and make room for the others.
‘Fine,’ Nate replied. ‘You just stand there and supervise, don’t worry, we’ll do everything.’ Sarah smiled at him.
‘If you’re nice to me I might let you have a biscuit when you’re done.’
Sid rested his hands on his hips and shouted to Lottie in the kitchen. ‘Any chance of tea for the workers?’
‘Maybe when you’re done,’ Lottie called back. ‘No skiving.’
With the divorce underway, Nate and Sarah had made their relationship public. Not that the papers had really cared that much. Sarah didn’t go to flashy awards things with Nate, he always went on his own, and with nothing salacious going on the press couldn’t be bothered to schlep all the way down to Greenley when there was much more interesting stuff happening in the city. As a result, they were left pretty much alone.
‘That’s the last big box,’ said Sid, pointing at the box he’d placed on the floor.
‘Yep,’ Nate confirmed. ‘Just a couple of suitcases now.’
Sid offered his hand to Nate. ‘I hope you’ll be really happy here, mate.’ Nate smiled and shook it before pulling Sid in for a hug and a manly pat on the back.
‘I’m sure I will be. This place is beautiful. I couldn’t be happier.’
‘Nor me,’ Sarah added, going to Nate’s side and sliding her arm around his waist. ‘But you do realise you’ll be involved in the panto next year if you’re back in time.’
‘No, no, no,’ said Nate, shaking his head. ‘No I won’t. Being here is downtime for me.’
‘Oh yes you will,’ Sarah and Sid chorused. Nate rolled his eyes just as Lottie came in carrying four cups of tea.
‘Didn’t I tell you? You and Sid are the pantomime horse.’ Nate and Sid looked at each other in shock.
‘But, because we like you so much,’ added Sarah, ‘we’ll let you decide who’s the front and who’s the back.’
They both gave a resigned shrug and with the clink of four mugs tapped together in cheers, they toasted the Greenley Players and the new year that was soon to be ahead of them. Sarah was absolutely sure it was going to be the best year of her life.
Acknowledgements
Wow! To be writing the acknowledgements for my second book is something I never, ever thought would happen to me. Thank you so much to everyone who decided to read Summer Season on the Seafront, I really hope you liked it!
This book wouldn’t have been anywhere near as good if it wasn’t for the amazing team at HQ Digital. You are all amazing but I’m incredibly grateful to my editor, Emily Kitchin (who is super lovely), for her brilliant insight, advice and guidance in making this story the best it could be. I’d also really like to take a minute to appreciate all the book bloggers out there who do so much to spread the word about books. You guys are utterly, utterly fabulous!
My family have been unwavering in their support and I owe them so much. Your love and encouragement mean the world to me, so thank you! But really my biggest thanks go to every single person who decided to spend some time with me and my characters. Being an author is all I ever wanted and it’s only thanks to you that it’s possible. I hope I haven’t let you down!
Keep an eye out for Katie Ginger’s next book, Snowflakes at Mistletoe Cottage, coming in October 2019!
Keep an eye out for Katie Ginger’s next book, Snowflakes at Mistletoe Cottage, coming in October 2019!
UK Edition / US Edition
Turn the page for and extract of The Little Theatre on the Seafront by Katie Ginger …
UK Edition / US Edition
Prologue
To my dearest girl,
What a wonderful life we’ve had together, my darling Lottie. I’m so sorry that I’ll miss so many things, such as seeing you get married and have children, but my time has come and I’m off to see your granddad. It’s been a long time since we last saw each other so we should have a lot to talk about, which will be a pleasant change from our married life together.
With all this death business I’ve been thinking about you and what you’ll do after I’m gone, and I’ve decided something – you need a shake up, my girl!
I love you, dear, but all you do is go to work, come home again, and that’s it. You’re thirty years old and you should be doing more with your life than spending your evenings with a little old lady like me.
If you remember, I have tried to get you enjoying life a bit more, but to no avail. Last year I set you up with that lovely handsome window cleaner, but you didn’t bat an eyelid. In fact, I’m not entirely sure you even knew what was happening. And then there was that time at Christmas, when I tried to get you to go to your school reunion … but you stubbornly refuse to enjoy anything that takes you out of yourself and out into the world. To be frank, dear, it’s no way to live.
So, I’ve decided that a bit of emotional blackmail is in order. And as spending your evenings fussing over me won’t be an
option anymore, you’re going to take over my place as chairman of Greenley Theatre and carry on my, dare I say it, good work, on the ‘Save Greenley Theatre’ campaign.
Think of it as one of those New Year, New You, type things!
Good luck, my dear. I know you’ll make me proud.
Lots of love,
Nan
P.S. I haven’t actually arranged this with the committee yet so that will be your first job. Have fun!
Chapter 1
Lottie waited outside her house for Sid, her colleague and best friend, to pick her up. She checked her watch and rolled her eyes. He was late, as usual. In all the years she’d known him he’d never been able to get anywhere on time – even primary school. After five more minutes of shuffling to stay warm she saw his battered old car round the corner and hid the box behind her back.
‘Here you go,’ she said as she climbed in.
‘You got me an Easter egg,’ Sid replied, smiling. It was an Incredible Hulk one.
‘I couldn’t resist.’
‘Me neither.’ He handed over a large posh box.
Lottie giggled and had a quick look at the huge milk chocolate egg covered in a white chocolate drizzle. Her mouth began to water. ‘You’re the best.’ Sid’s grin grew wider. Lottie tucked the egg down by her feet while Sid tossed his onto the backseat where it was cushioned by a mound of rubbish and they headed to the first job of the day.
Lottie leaned forward and peeked at the picture on his top. ‘Don’t you think that T-shirt’s a bit off for meeting an old lady?’
Sid pulled it to his nose and sniffed ‘What’s wrong with it?’
‘I don’t mean it’s skanky. It’s the picture.’
‘What’s wrong with the picture? Dragon Slaying Vampires are a great band.’
She raised her eyebrows. ‘I’m not sure a half-naked woman with enormous breasticles, standing on top of a dragon’s severed head in a giant pool of blood, is really appropriate for an octogenarian. Do you?’
‘Oh,’ said Sid. ‘I suppose not.’ He shrugged. ‘I’ll keep my jacket on.’
‘Yeah, good luck with that.’
Sid was the reporter on the Greenley Gazette and Lottie was his photographer. Over the years they had covered every sort of local issue from the first day at school to hardcore crime and had learnt that old ladies over the age of seventy love to have the heating on. And it was already turning into a surprisingly sunny February day.
Lottie peered up at the clear blue sky and soft white clouds overhead. She loved living in Greenley-On-Sea, especially on days like this. The sun shone brightly, and the air was crisp and clean carrying a hint of salt from the sea. The streets were full of children on their way to school, laughing and giggling at what the day might hold in store.
‘You were late again,’ she said, teasingly.
Sid pointed to two takeaway cups in the cup holders. ‘I stopped to get coffee.’
‘Aww, thanks.’ She sipped the skinny mocha savouring the tang of coffee and sweet hit of chocolate, then removed the lid to swipe up some of the whipped cream.
‘I have no idea why you have it made with skimmed milk and then put cream on top.’
‘Because,’ said Lottie, popping the lid back on, ‘I can convince my brain that whipped cream is mostly air and therefore has no calories and skinny milk is mostly water, so really, it’s not that bad for me. In fact, on a day like this it’s actually good for me. I’m hydrating.’
Sid’s deep set hazel eyes under slightly too bushy eyebrows looked at her sceptically. She’d known him all her life and he knew her better than anyone else in the entire world, especially since Elsie, her nan, had passed away just after Christmas. She felt a familiar stab of grief tighten her throat but pushed it down. ‘Do you want to have lunch at mine today?’
‘Have you got any decent grub?’
‘Sidney Evans, you only ever think about your stomach.’ Lottie smiled and considered the sparse remains in the fridge. ‘Beans on toast?’
‘Yeah, alright.’
They were now in the posh part of town where old white Georgian houses with large sash windows lined the roads, but before long they would be out the other side back to the normal houses. ‘So who’s this old dear we’re seeing this morning?’
He bobbed up and down in excitement. ‘Mrs Harker and her opera-singing parrot.’
Lottie stared. ‘Opera?’
‘Yep.’
She blinked. ‘Oh.’
‘I know. I love my job,’ Sid replied, beaming as if it was Christmas.
Sid parked the car in front of an ordinary mid-terrace house. A neat front garden with a small path led them to a plain white front door. Lottie climbed out first. ‘I think I’ll get a photo of Mrs Harker outside holding the parrot. It’ll be a nice juxtaposition of the ordinary and the extraordinary.’
Sid tutted. ‘You take this all far too seriously sometimes.’
They walked to the door and Sid gave a cheerful knock. A petite woman in her eighties wearing a floral dress and long beige cardigan opened the door. ‘Good morning.’
‘Good morning, Mrs Harker. I’m Sid Evans, from the Greenley Gazette, and this is my photographer, Lottie Webster.’
‘Come in, won’t you?’ asked Mrs Harker, leading the way.
Lottie followed Sid into the porch and was immediately struck by the heat. It was like having a boiling hot flannel shoved on her face. She looked at Sid and grinned as a redness crept over his cheeks. It was going to be fun watching him cook, a little bit of payback for last week when they’d done the weekly shop together and he’d kept secretly adding things to other people’s baskets. She’d giggled at the time but it was quite embarrassing when he got caught. Of course, he’d come clean and charmed his way out of it while Lottie hid at the end of the aisle, peering round from the pick ’n’ mix.
As they entered the living room, Lottie slipped her coat from her shoulders and spotted a cage with a bright red parrot perched inside. The bird didn’t move and for a moment, Lottie worried it was stuffed. It wouldn’t be the first time they’d interviewed a crazy person.
‘I understand,’ said Sid, ‘that you have a very unusual parrot, Mrs Harker?’
‘Oh, yes, Mr Neville is very talented.’
‘Mr Neville?’ repeated Sid. Lottie recognised from the twitch in his cheek a grin was pulling at his mouth.
‘Yes, Mr Neville’s my parrot. He sings Tosca.’
Sid nodded. ‘And can we see this talent in action?’
Lottie readied her camera as Mrs Harker approached the CD player and switched it on. The music started and Mr Neville, as if by magic, came to life. He opened his wings and rocked on his feet as he screeched in unison with the music. Lottie lifted her camera and took some shots. Calling it singing was going a bit far, but it was certainly entertaining. A moment later, Mrs Harker switched off the music and Sid conducted the interview.
‘Well, thank you very much, Mrs Harker,’ he said when he’d finished. ‘That’s quite a parrot you’ve got there.’
‘He’s great, isn’t he?’ she replied, opening his cage to take him out. ‘Did you want to take your coat off, young man? You look a little bit hot.’
‘No, thanks. I’m fine,’ said Sid, wiping his top lip.
Lottie repressed a laugh.
‘I was so sorry to hear about your grandmother passing, Miss Webster,’ said Mrs Harker.
Lottie paused as a shiver ran down her spine. ‘You knew my nan?’
‘Yes, dear, I went to school with her and we played bingo together for years. She was a lovely woman.’
‘Yes, she was.’
‘It was wonderful what she was trying to do for the town, she was always working hard to make a difference. Such a shame she never quite got the theatre going again.’
Lottie opened her mouth, but nothing came out. Grabbing the bottle of water Sid offered, she took a big drink.
‘Did Mrs Webster talk much about the theatre?’ Sid asked. He must ha
ve seen her impression of a goldfish and stepped in.
‘Oh yes, she had grand plans. Elsie was going to make it like it was when we were young. Get the community involved again. I think that was where she met your granddad, Miss Webster.’
Lottie’s eyes darted to Mrs Harker’s face. She had no idea that was why the theatre meant so much to her nan. From the depths of her mind she remembered Elsie telling her the story. How she spotted him from across the aisle and that was that. Love at first sight. Lottie had responded by saying how lovely and picking up her book, burying herself in another time, another place. She bit her lip feeling ashamed.
‘All the bingo club were behind her, you know. Johnnie, the caller – the guy who calls out legs eleven and two fat ladies, and all that – he said that we could move back there when Elsie finished renovating it.’
Lottie tightened her grip on the water bottle and swallowed. She needed to get outside into the fresh air. ‘I think, Mrs Harker, it would be a lovely idea to get a picture of you and Mr Neville in front of your house, if you don’t mind?’
‘Not at all, dear,’ she replied, admiring Mr Neville and stroking his feathers. ‘Are you sure you’re alright? You look quite pale.’
‘Yes, I’m fine, thank you.’ Lottie’s voice was high and squeaky. Her hand shook as she clicked the camera, but finally, after a few attempts, she had the shot.
Sid escorted Mrs Harker back to her door and said goodbye as Lottie climbed into the car and pulled another bottle of water from her camera bag. She watched Sid remove his jacket and move round to the driver’s side to get in.
‘Okay, you were right,’ he said, wiping his forehead with the back of his hand. ‘I was absolutely roasting in there. Why do old dears always have the heating on? I mean, I know it’s still chilly, but come on.’ He looked at Lottie, his furrowed brow accentuating his crooked nose. ‘Are you alright?’