Page 50 of One Snowy Day
She left him behind and made her way through the throng towards the ladies. She was halfway there when she was sidetracked for a couple of minutes by Val and Cathy, who coerced her on to the dance floor for a quick shuffle to Loretta’s version of ‘Waterloo’. Which wasn’t really the song Jessie wanted to hear when she was dying to get to the toilets.
Thankfully, there wasn’t a queue when she got there, but when she came back out, she spotted Kayleigh, leaning against the wall, next in line.
‘Are you okay there, sweetheart?’
‘I’m fine, Gran.’
‘So why the serious face? You look like someone stole your Harry Piles album.’
‘Harry Styles, Gran. And we don’t call them albums any more.’
‘That’s why you look miserable. A new Osmonds record could keep me happy for weeks at your age.’
She flattened herself against the wall as Linda Nesbit from next door stormed past Kayleigh and into the loo, skipping the line. Thankfully, Kayleigh didn’t seem to mind.
‘Anyway, I’m not miserable – I’m just waiting for a uni friend to text me back about a legal thing.’
That didn’t make sense to Jessie. ‘At nine o’clock on a Monday night? Are you in some kind of trouble?’
‘No, no, not for me! For Alyssa. When you were here this morning, did she tell you about the letter she got?’
Jessie was none the wiser. ‘Letter about what?’
‘This building is being sold and she’s losing the café and her flat. I’m gutted for her. I’m going to try to help, but I’m not hopeful.’
Jessie was wondering if she’d had one too many glasses of plonk to process that. Or maybe she didn’t hear it properly over the glorious sound of Moira Chiles, standing on a coffee table singing, ‘Proud Mary’.
‘Hang on, did you say she’s losing the café? That can’t be the case, surely?’
‘It is, Gran.’
Holy hell, she had heard right.
‘And who’s doing this to her exactly?’ Jessie could feel a combination of rage and horror rise in her chest and make her bra strap feel too tight. That lass had worked too damned hard, and this café was too important to the village to close. Where would all the old dears go for their tea and a heat in the winter? Where would the customers in the salon go after their highlights? Or the monthly speed dating group, that they’d nicknamed ‘Not So Speedy Dating’ because Agnes, the optimistic singleton from the fish shop, took twenty minutes to get to the point of any story.
No. No. No. Sod that.
Kayleigh was leaning into her ear now, so that she could be heard over the sound of the crowd cheering for Moira.
‘The landlord. Actually, not the landlord, because he died. From what I can gather, the café is part of his estate, and his beneficiaries are selling it off. Only sixty days’ notice, Gran – it’s terrible. Alyssa says one of the man’s family came in today and she begged him for help, and he refused. I wish you’d been here when it happened. I told her you’d have kicked his arse.’
At that, Linda vacated the toilet and Kayleigh moved to go in.
‘Anyway, don’t worry, Gran, I’ll figure it out.’
Jessie swiped two mini steak pies and a glass of plonk from the buffet as she passed to relieve Grant over at the door. There couldn’t be too many more people coming in at this time, so she’d give it five more minutes and then mingle – just long enough to ponder the revelations of the last couple of hours.
How could she leave? She wasn’t even out of the country yet and the café was closing down, Georgie was keeping secrets and Dorinda bloody Canavan was over there talking to Stan like they were long-lost lovers. Which, technically… She watched them for a moment, wondering what they were discussing and why. In almost thirty years, since that night at the golf club, she’d never seen them speak to each other. In fact, as far as she knew, they’d never even been in the same room. Stan avoided the café and Dorinda didn’t frequent the golf club, so there were no crossover points. So why was Dorinda speaking to him now? And was Jessie going to ignore it, or march right over there and find out what they were discussing?
Before she could decide, the lovely Hugo Canavan came through the crowd towards her holding up a bottle of fizz. She knocked back the wine in her glass then held it out towards him. ‘Top it up please, Hugo. I think I’m going to need a bit of liquid courage for what’s ahead tonight.’
26
GEORGIE
The party was in full swing and the space occupied by those having a dance was getting wider and wider as more people let their inhibitions drop and their pants boogie. Moira and Loretta had the whole crowd in the palms of their hands, acting like a tag team to throw down hit after hit from the seventies and eighties. They were currently duetting to ‘Islands In The Stream’ and Moira’s ability to replicate Kenny Roger’s low notes was notably impressive.
Georgie hadn’t had a chance to get her dancing shoes on yet because she was too busy catching up with her cousins, Helena and Eve. They’d been blethering for the last twenty minutes, and she was deeply aware she may also be using them as a human shield against the advances of her mother.
