He pictured his flat. Underneath the piles of clothes he dumped on the floor and the mass of rubbish he hadn’t cleared up yet, there was probably something there. There was definitely an old Victorian fireplace in the living room, though at the moment it was full of video games. ‘Yeah, it’s got a few things like that.’
‘I’m impressed.’ Then her face clouded over. ‘I’ve had to move back in with my mum and dad at the moment. But hopefully it won’t be for long.’
‘I’m sure you’ll be fine once you get back on your feet.’
‘Thanks.’ She smiled at him and Sid felt a burning in his lungs. One of the girls Selena had come with called her name. She spun back to Sid and though he wasn’t sure, her expression seemed like she wanted to stay. ‘Sorry. I have to go.’
‘Oh, alright.’
‘Did you want to come with us?’ she asked, looking him straight in the eye. ‘We’re going to that nice bar on the High Street. The girls want to dance.’
Sid couldn’t think of anything he’d like to do less except for maybe clean his flat. He wasn’t a dancer. His signature move was more of a lunge. And he’d be the only guy amongst a load of fashionable, glamorous girls. Some blokes liked that sort of thing but to him it was like asking if he wanted to swim naked with sharks with a T-bone steak tied to his neck. ‘Umm, no thanks,’ he said, hoping she wouldn’t take offence. ‘But you have a nice time.’
‘Okay.’ She went to walk away then turned back rifling in her bag to pull out a pen and a tiny notebook. ‘Look, here’s my number. We could meet for a coffee or something some time and chat about the old days.’ She wrote it down then tore out the piece of paper and handed it to him.
‘Yeah. Sure, that’d be nice.’ His stomach wriggled in a weird way that was both pleasant and unpleasant at the same time.
Selena left, glancing over her shoulder as she went, and Sid walked out unsure if his legs were actually moving or if he was being wheeled along by some supernatural force. His heart gave a pang and the fleeting thought of, ‘If only it was Lottie,’ ran through his head. No. That ship had sailed long, long ago. The thought of trying again with Lottie and it being another awkward and embarrassing moment that could potentially ruin their friendship forever made him squirm. No way. It wasn’t worth the risk. But he wouldn’t tell Lottie about Selena. Not just yet. She had enough on her plate and besides there wasn’t anything to tell.
The grin on his face returned and hurt his cheeks. He examined the number in his hand. A girl as gorgeous as Selena had given him her number. And she remembered the music he’d played her at uni, and she even knew about the secret scene. He was the luckiest man in the world. But then his elation fell away to be replaced with panic as he contemplated the number again. What the hell was he supposed to do now?
The wind blew stronger on Greenley seafront than Lottie expected even though it was spring and sunlight pierced through the gathering clouds, bouncing off the sea. She wrapped her coat around her. She liked spring weather, it was easier to dress for than summer when clothes revealed so much flesh. Big jumpers and coats hid her flabby upper arms and were far more comfortable.
Lottie’s nan could never understand her self-consciousness, believing Lottie was just big boned. She’d always had puppy fat but unlike most of the girls in her class at school, Lottie’s had stayed stubbornly in place past adolescence and long into adulthood.
Sid waved as he drove past, then parked down the street and climbed out. ‘Morning,’ he said, crossing over to join Lottie opposite the theatre where she stood gazing at it.
The Victorian building had a square front of grey stone, with two tall oblong windows either side of a majestic revolving door. The boarded-up windows were decorated with scrawls, spray painted swirls, and a useful list of expletives. The revolving glass doors, most of which were broken, were sheltered by a faded blue domed canopy, and at either end of the building, a rotting wooden frame encased an old, tattered, water-stained poster. The once bright colours paled to a sad, washed out hue.
Sid pointed to the wall. ‘Donna’s well liked, isn’t she? Very popular with the boys.’
Lottie followed his gaze and laughed. ‘It is beautiful, isn’t it? Even in this sorry state.’
‘It is, actually. Do you know, I never really appreciated it until now. It’s been closed up for so long, I’ve just got used to walking past it.’
‘It’s such a shame.’ Lottie was beginning to see why it had meant so much to her nan and could imagine it in its heyday all those years ago. She snapped another couple of pictures. She’d always had a fascination with old abandoned buildings and had taken quite a few photographs of the various ones around town over the years. There was something about how the light played on them creating shadows and stark contrasts, emphasising the desolation and loneliness of these old places. She’d always planned to turn them into an exhibition but had never quite been brave enough. Maybe she should start an Instagram account or something?
‘“Jez woz ere”,’ Sid read. ‘Clever.’
‘Bloody idiots. Haven’t they got something better to do than write all over lovely old buildings?’
‘Obviously not.’ Sid took out a packet of crisps from his backpack and opened them. Before he could say anything more an enormous seagull swooped down and snatched the bag, making him scream. It flew to a nearby roof and bashed the packet down until it gave way and the contents spilled out.
‘Did you see the size of that thing?’ asked Sid, breathlessly, his face frozen in panic. ‘It’s a monster.’
Lottie burst out laughing, doubled over.
‘It’s not funny. I could have died.’
‘Oh, Sid. You should have seen your face.’ She screeched, giving a quick impression, then descended into hysterics once more.
Sid bent forwards with his hands on his knees still trying to calm down. ‘But look at it. It looks like it’s been drinking protein shakes from the sports centre bins. That’s not normal. Seagulls shouldn’t be the size of small aeroplanes.’
‘Sid, stop it.’ Lottie wiped the tears from her face but continued laughing as she spoke. ‘Right, now I’ve calmed down a bit I’ll get the outside shot as the weather’s nice. I don’t like the look of that rain cloud.’ She nodded to the sky over the sea where a band of dark grey cloud threatened to envelop the town.
‘Okay, I’ll wait for you.’ Sid finally stood up and adopted his usual stance of hands in pockets, leaning against the back of a bench.
After taking the pictures, Lottie and Sid crossed the road and walked to the door. The clouds had quickly blown in and spots of rain began to fall. The rain gathered pace and Lottie pulled a heavy set of keys out of her bag and tried to find the one for the front door.
‘Come on, Lots, we’re getting soaked.’
‘I’m trying. There’s like a million keys on here.’ She examined them individually and found the right one. Pushing the glass door with her fingertips in case it smashed to pieces in her hand, they edged inside as it revolved to the sounds of rusty gears and grinding metal.
‘Wow,’ said Sid, walking in and placing Lottie’s camera bag down on the floor. Lottie brushed the rain from the sleeves of her cardigan and inspected the interior.
Inside was a small square balcony higher than the theatre floor. On either side, a few steps led down to where row upon row of seats lined up in front of the stage. A deep crimson carpet, discoloured and threadbare in places, echoed the faded grandeur of the exterior. It was an unusual layout which Lottie felt gave the place