‘So you wouldn’t be doing it on your own,’ Susan said. ‘You already have a potential audience and people who’d be willing to spread the word. Some of them might volunteer to help you with the restoration or running the place—and you can count me in as well. I could even try and get some of my probationers interested. I bet they’d enjoy slapping a bit of paint on the walls.’
‘Supposing I can’t make a go of it? There’s only one screen, maybe the possibility of two if I use the upstairs room,’ Nicole said. ‘Is that enough to draw the customers in and make the place pay?’
‘If anyone can do it, you can,’ Susan said.
‘I have savings,’ Nicole said thoughtfully. ‘If the renovations cost more than what I have, I could get a loan.’
‘I have savings, too. I’d be happy to use them here,’ Susan added.
Nicole shook her head. ‘This should be your heritage, Mum, not mine. And I don’t want you to risk your savings on a business venture that might not make it.’
‘We’ve already had this argument. You didn’t win it earlier and you’re not going to win it now,’ Susan said crisply. ‘The Electric Palace is yours. And it’s your choice whether you want to sell it or whether you want to do something with it.’
Nicole looked at the sad, neglected old building and knew exactly what she was going to do. ‘I’ll work out some figures, to see if it’s viable.’ Though she knew that it wasn’t just about the figures. And if the figures didn’t work, she’d find alternatives until they did work.
‘And if it’s viable?’ Susan asked.
‘I’ll talk to my boss. If he’ll give me a six-month sabbatical, it’d be long enough for me to see if I can make a go of this place.’ Nicole shook her head. ‘I can’t quite believe I just said that. I’ve spent ten years working for the bank and I’ve worked my way up from the bottom.’
‘And you hate it there—it suppresses the real Nicole and it’s turned you into a corporate ghost.’
‘Don’t pull your punches, Mum,’ Nicole said wryly.
Susan hugged her. ‘I can love you to bits at the same time as telling you that you’re making a massive mistake with your life, you know.’
‘Because mums are good at multi-tasking?’
‘You got it, kiddo.’ Susan hugged her again. ‘And I’m with you on this. Anything you need, from scrubbing floors to working a shift in the ticket office to making popcorn, I’m there—and, as I said, I have savings and I’m happy to invest them in this place.’
‘You worked hard for that money.’
‘And interest rates are so pathetic that my savings are earning me nothing. I’d rather that money was put to good use. Making my daughter’s life better—and that would make me very happy indeed. You can’t put a price on that.’
Nicole hugged her. ‘Thanks, Mum. I love you. And you are so getting the best pudding in the world.’
‘You mean, we have to stop by the supermarket on the way back to your flat because there’s nothing in your fridge,’ Susan said dryly.
Nicole grinned. ‘You know me so well.’
* * *
Later that evening, when Susan had gone home, Nicole checked her phone. As she’d half expected, there was a message from Clarence. Did you talk to your mum?
Yes. Did you talk to your dad?
To her pleasure, he replied almost instantly.
No. There wasn’t time.
Nicole was pretty sure that meant Clarence hadn’t been able to face a row.
What did your mum say? he asked.
Even though she had a feeling that he was asking her partly to distract her from quizzing him about his own situation, it was still nice that he was interested.
We went to see the building.
And?
It’s gorgeous but it needs work.
Then I’d recommend getting a full surveyor’s report, so you can make sure any renovation quotes you get from builders are fair, accurate and complete.
Thanks. I hadn’t thought of that.
I can recommend some people, if you want.
That’d be great. I’ll take you up on that, if the figures stack up and I decide to go ahead with getting the business back up and running.
Although Nicole had told herself she’d only do it if the figures worked out, she knew it was a fib. She’d fallen in love with the building and for the first time in years she was excited at the idea of starting work on something. Clarence obviously lived in Surrey Quays, or he wouldn’t be part of the forum; so he’d see the boards come down from the front of the Electric Palace or hear about the renovations from some other eagle-eyed person on the Surrey Quays website. She really ought to tell him before it started happening. After all, he was her friend. And he’d said that he had experience in the entertainment and service industry, so he might have some great ideas for getting the cinema up and running again. He’d already made her think about having a survey done, which wouldn’t have occurred to her—she’d just intended to find three builders with good reputations and would pick the middle quote of the three.
But, even as she started to type her news, something held her back.
And she knew what it was. Jeff’s betrayal had broken her trust. Although she felt she knew Clarence well, and he was the only person she’d even consider talking to about this apart from her mum and best friend, she found herself halting instead of typing a flurry of excited words about her plans.
Maybe it was better to wait to tell him about it until she’d got all her ducks in a row and knew exactly what she was doing.
What’s stopping you going ahead? he asked.
I need to work out the figures first. See if it’s viable.
So your mum said the same as I did—that it’ll get you out of the job you hate?
Yes, she admitted.
Good—and you’re listening to both of us?
I’m listening, she said. But it’s still early days, Clarence. I don’t want to talk about it too much right now—
She couldn’t tell him that she didn’t trust him. That would mean explaining about Jeff, and she still cringed when she thought about it. How she’d been blithely unaware of the real reason Jeff had asked her to live with him, until she’d overheard that conversation in the toilets. One of the women touching up her make-up by the mirror had said how her boyfriend was actually living with someone else right then but didn’t love her—he was only living with the other woman because his boss wasn’t prepared to give the promotion to someone who wasn’t settled down, and he was going to leave her as soon as he got the promotion.
Nicole had winced in sympathy with the poor, deluded woman who thought everything was fine, and also wanted to point out to the woman bragging about her fickle lover that, if he was prepared to cheat on his live-in girlfriend with her, there was a very strong chance he’d do exactly the same thing to her with someone else at some point in the future.
The woman had continued, ‘She’s a right cold fish, Jeff says. A boring banker. But Jeff says he really, really loves me. He’s even bought me an engagement ring—look.’
There were encouraging coos from her friends; but Nicole had found herself going cold. Jeff wasn’t exactly a common name. Even if it were how many men called Jeff were living with a girlfriend who was a banker? Surely it couldn’t be...? But when the woman had gone on to describe cheating,