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?’
‘I am now I’m out of there.’
‘Was it the bit about your nan?’
Lottie stared at him in disbelief. ‘Of course it was! I wasn’t so impressed by an opera-singing parrot I nearly fainted.’
‘Alright,’ he said sarcastically. ‘I was just checking.’
Lottie pushed a stray lock of hair behind her ear. If Sid wasn’t so genuinely clueless when it came to women she would have been cross with him. ‘Sorry. I know I’m being unbearable at the moment.’
His cheeky grin returned. ‘That’s okay.’
‘It’s just that, I knew the theatre meant a lot to Nan, but I …’
‘What?’ asked Sid, softly.
She shook her head, unable to steer her brain into forming a sentence. A familiar wave of grief and sadness washed over her, tinged with panic and fear at what she was being asked to do.
‘Listen, Lots. I know you don’t want to deal with your nan’s letter but I think we have to. You can’t keep ignoring it.’
Elsie’s final gift to her hadn’t been at all what Lottie had expected and she had no idea how to deal with it. ‘There’s nothing to talk about, Sid. I’m not doing it and that’s final.’
‘But, Lottie, your nan must have thought this was what you needed. You can’t keep shoving your head in the sand and pretending it never happened.’
She crossed her arms over her chest. ‘Yes, I can.’
‘No, you can’t.’ Sid ran his hand through dark curls that maintained a stubborn unruliness no matter how short they were cut. If Sid was her type – which he wasn’t – she might have thought him handsome in a geeky way. ‘I’m not trying to annoy you.’
‘I know you’re not. You don’t need to try.’ She gave a weak smile.
Sid started the engine and began to drive off. ‘But why leave you a letter? Why not just ask?’
Lottie shrugged. ‘Nan knew full well that if she asked me face to face I’d tell her to bog off.’
‘And stomp off out of the room,’ he said teasingly.
She turned to him and widened her eyes in fake surprise. ‘I don’t do that.’
‘Yes, you do.’ He smiled. ‘But it’s fine, I don’t mind. I just don’t understand what you’re afraid of.’
Lottie opened her Easter egg and broke off a piece of chocolate, waving it in the air as she spoke. ‘Oh, I don’t know, making a fool of myself in front of the entire town, letting Nan down, everyone laughing at me.’
‘No one would laugh at you, Lottie.’
‘Despite what Nan thinks—’ Lottie felt her heart twinge, the words catching in her throat. ‘What Nan thought, I quite like my life.’
Sid looked at her sceptically. ‘You like being safe, Lottie, that’s not the same thing.’
‘But what if I take over the theatre and make things worse?’
‘How can you?’ Sid glanced at her quickly before turning his eyes back to the road. ‘What could you possibly do to make it worse? Burn the place down? Blow it up? You’re not planning on blowing it up, are you?’
Lottie scowled.
‘Oh, I know,’ he continued in a mocking tone. ‘You’re going to run National Front rallies, or host puppy kicking competitions?’
‘No, but—’
‘It’s a small local theatre for a small quiet town. Not a top notch, swanky London showbiz place.’
Lottie cocked her head and broke off another piece of chocolate. ‘But I don’t know how to do this.’ Her voice was rising and she pulled it back. It wasn’t Sid’s fault. ‘I’m not a project manager, I have no idea how to be a chairman and do chairman-type things. And, I know absolutely nothing about theatres.’
‘But you are ridiculously bossy.’
‘No I’m not, I’m just … organised.’
Sid’s face broke into a wide grin and he grabbed her hand, giving it a squeeze. ‘You can do this, Lottie, I know you can. Just give it a chance.’
Lottie ate another piece of chocolate.
‘The thing is, Lottie,’ he continued, ‘your nan was right. You do need to get out more. I mean, when was the last time you had a boyfriend?’
‘When was the last time you had a girlfriend?’ she countered.
‘It was 2003, but this isn’t about me.’
Lottie repressed a smile. ‘You were twelve in 2003.’
‘Yep, but I’m perfectly happy with my life; you’re not and you haven’t been for ages.’
Lottie folded her arms over her chest. It was true. She had been feeling restless for a long time now. But when her nan became ill, she’d retreated even further into her safe, quiet life. It wasn’t that she didn’t like people, she did. She’d just never quite got around to getting a social life, that was all. ‘What’s your point?’
‘I think if you stopped looking at everything so negatively you’d see this could be good fun.’ Sid was always trying to chivvy her up.
Lottie toyed with her camera, opening and closing the lens, her mind racing. ‘I’ve got to do this, haven’t I?’
‘We have,’ said Sid, smiling at her. ‘I’ll be there for you.’ He stopped at a junction. ‘Shall we head to yours now? We can have lunch and start coming up with a plan to get you on the committee.’
Lottie checked her watch. ‘It’s only half eleven.’
‘I know, but I’m starving. Please?’ He stuck his lower lip out just as her stomach rumbled.
‘Alright then. Just for you.’
Lottie had lived in the same house all her life. As a diplomat, her father worked all over the world and in the beginning, when he was posted to the back of beyond, her mother had stayed at home with Lottie. But when Lottie’s father was posted to Vienna, a city her mother longed to visit, she declared herself allergic to parenthood and departed with him for health reasons. Lottie’s nan had stepped in and it had, for the most part, been a happy and harmonious relationship.
The house sat on the brow of a hill with views of the sea and steep steps leading up to the front door. There was no front garden to speak of, just a tiny square of grass with soil too chalky to grow anything pretty. Blue paint peeled from the front door, stripped off by the salty sea air, leaving patches faded to grey and exposed bare wood. Lottie thought it was beautiful, like a piece of art.
They mounted the steps and Lottie found her keys to let them in. Sid, who was as familiar with the house as she was, marched through the dark hallway into the living room, slung his jacket onto the back of the sofa, then