‘I’m so glad you agree, Edward,’ Odette croons smugly, from the stage. ‘This supermarket will be a wonderful opportunity for the village – one we must exploit if we’re not to lag further behind than we already are.’ She stares meaningfully at Peg and Ted, who are sitting in the front row of the packed hall, their arms folded across their chests, looking mutinous.
‘Well, I don’t exactly agree with everything you propose, Odette,’ Edward says coolly.
‘You don’t?’ Odette’s eyes widen, as if she can’t imagine why anyone would ever disagree with anything she had to say. She really is a player. A player in pearls and a cashmere twinset, which I’ve discovered can be the most dangerous kind.
‘Let me elaborate,’ he says. ‘I think that the supermarket could help Glacken, yes. It could bring us some much-needed employment for a start.’
Odette nods energetically and there’s a murmur of approval in the hall.
‘But,’ Edward continues, ‘on the other hand, we don’t want to destroy the unique quality that the village has. It’s that quality that makes Glacken special. And I think we can agree that this village is very special to all of us.’
There’s an outburst of applause at this, led by Peg and Ted clapping and cheering enthusiastically. Ted is dying to give Edward a standing ovation already, I can see that.
‘What are you getting at, Edward?’ Odette asks crossly, momentarily forgetting to be sweetness and light to her beloved.
Seeing Edward’s surprise at her impatient tone, she remembers to smile at him again. This woman is like Jekyll and Hyde – what does he see in her? I just can’t understand it.
‘Well,’ Edward glances at me, ‘Maggie and I were chatting about it and we think we’ve come up with a plan that we believe could work.’
My face warms. It must be because everyone is staring at me – it can’t be because Edward’s cornflower blue eyes are locked on mine. Can it?
Half of the crowd has swivelled to see where I am. I try not to give in to the urge to sink down in my seat and hide. Instead I force myself to smile gamely, as if I’m the type of person who could have a plan about things. And I desperately try to forget the way Edward just looked at me. He’s looking at me like that because I’m here to support his arts idea, nothing more. After all, he and Odette are together. This fantasy that there’s some sort of connection between us is in my mind.
‘You and Maggie?’ Odette’s voice cracks and she shuffles the papers before her to compose herself and buy some time. I can tell she’s rattled because she’s got a death grip on her precious documents; her pearly pink manicured talons are almost ripping through them with rage.
‘Yes. Maggie,’ Edward confirms, smiling at me. ‘As you all know, Maggie is a celebrated artist here to complete an important commission.’
I wince as Edward says this. Whatever made me lie so stupidly like that? If only I’d told him the truth – that I’m an out-of-work estate agent … Maybe he wouldn’t have cared. Then again, from the way he reacted when we spoke about estate agents, he hates them all. Anyway, it’s too late to confess now that everyone here thinks I’m an artist. A massive wave of guilt washes over me. I feel terrible for letting them all believe I’m something I’m not. I try to push that thought away, though, because if I focus on it, I’ll never be able to speak or say anything remotely useful and I know that Edward is depending on me to contribute. Watching him talk with such conviction about the place he loves is moving. I’m rooting for people to support his idea and I want to be involved, even though I know I should probably just walk away before I land myself in even more trouble. Something is making me stay, though, and I know that something is Edward. The little voice in my head can’t be denied: I’m here because I genuinely don’t want to leave. I want to stay because of Edward and the way I feel about him.
‘… and Maggie feels that Glacken has something special to offer too.’ Edward is still speaking. ‘So, we’ve put our heads together,’ Odette shivers visibly, ‘and we both think that Glacken could be promoted as an artists’ retreat.’
‘An artists’ retreat?’ Odette’s voice is withering. ‘That’s your big plan?’
‘Yes,’ Edward says. ‘We could invite painters from all over the world to come here to work. We could establish a gallery – we could even have a festival.’
A festival? That wasn’t something we’d spoken about – obviously Edward has put even more thought into this proposal. A festival is a brilliant idea. Nothing too grungy or like Glastonbury of course, something civilized. There could be showings, demonstrations, that sort of thing. The locals could rent out rooms to guests, Matty would make a fortune in the pub, and Peg and Ted would be set up. The more I think about it, the better it sounds.
‘But, Edward,’ Ted interrupts him, ‘how would that help us?’
‘I don’t like those festivals, Edward.’ Peg is unconvinced. ‘It’s all sex and drugs.’
‘Yeah,’ someone shouts, ‘we don’t want that sort of thing going on here.’
‘Yes, we do!’ someone else calls, and there’s a ripple of laughter in the hall.
‘There could be naked mud-wrestling or orgies. I saw that on the TV!’ Betty from the butcher’s bounces excitedly beside me, a basket of steaming sausage rolls at her feet. She’s already tried to entice me with one, but I had to resist. I can’t let Peg see me fraternizing with her. I may sneak one later, though, when she’s otherwise occupied.
‘Keep dreaming, Betty,’ Jimmy the guard, in his blue wool jumper, says.
A heated debate breaks out about the possibility of an orgy happening in a muddy field.
‘No, no, listen,’ Edward shouts. ‘I don’t mean anything like Glastonbury – of course that wouldn’t work here. I’m talking about something much more cultured. You know, like that literary festival they have at Hay-on-Wye.’
‘I’ve heard of that,’ Ted says. ‘They had Dan Brown there one year.’
‘Did they?’ Peg perks up. ‘Do you think Dan Brown will come here too?’ she asks, her eyes widening.
‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ Betty from the butcher’s says. ‘Dan Brown will never come to Glacken.’
‘Well, why wouldn’t he?’ Peg pouts. ‘What’s wrong with Glacken? We’re just as good as that Hay-on-Wye place.’
‘I’d say we’re better,’ Ted agrees. ‘Far better. Dan Brown would be a fool not to come here.’
‘But he’s not an artist, Ted.’ Betty sniffs. ‘He’s a writer.’
‘Well, we could have that girl, then,’ Peg says. ‘You know, the one who puts all her filthy rubbish on her bed.’
‘Tracey Emin?’ Jimmy the guard pales.
‘Yes, that’s her. She could come. Or that man.’
‘Let me guess, the one who floats dead cows in formaldehyde?’ Jimmy puts his head in his hands.
‘Yes!’ Peg looks jubilant. ‘Now, he wouldn’t be my cup of tea, but it would get the village great publicity. He’s always in the papers.’
‘Listen! LISTEN!’ Edward bellows. Everyone falls silent again. ‘If, and I say if, this project got off the ground and was in any way successful, it could attract tourists. The right sort of tourists.’ He smiles. ‘It could generate business for us all.’
Peg and Ted begin to look a little hopeful. ‘So you think our shop could be saved, Edward?’ Peg asks.
‘No one can say for sure,’ Edward answers honestly, ‘but it’s worth a shot.’
There’s a loud hum in the room as everyone leans in to their neighbour to chat about the plan.
‘Order.’ Odette raps her little hammer on the table in front of her. ‘Order!’
Everyone falls silent again.
‘Edward.’ She fake-smiles at him. ‘This is a nice idea. But there’s one problem.’
‘What’s that?’ I pipe up. It seems unfair to let Edward do all the talking. I need to help him out.
‘I was speaking to Edward,’ Odette snipes at me. ‘Not you.’
‘That’s OK, Odette,’ Edward interrupts. ‘Maggie should have some input. She’s the expert, after all.’
I blush as he says this – God, I feel terrible for lying to him. Why on earth did I ever do that?
‘OK,’ Odette doesn’t look too happy, ‘if you insist.’ She settles her eyes on me. ‘So. Maggie. Celebrated artist.’ She raises an eyebrow when she says this. ‘Who’s going to pay for this scheme? Unless you’re going to fund the exercise yourself perhaps. Then again, from what I hear, artists don’t make much money … not until they’re dead, that is.’
Peg gasps. She knows exactly what Odette is implying – that she could kill me here and now with her bare hands, given half the chance.
‘That’s a good question, Odette,’ I reply, getting to my feet, ‘and one I’m happy to answer.’ Lie. I’m not happy to answer this. I’m terrified. Absolutely terrified.
‘Great.’ Odette leans back in her chair and smiles. ‘Please – go ahead.’
‘Well …’ I take a deep breath and try to remain composed ‘…we could look for funding. There are grants we could apply for. The government –’
‘The government isn’t giving any money to anyone, Maggie,’ Odette interrupts, ‘or hadn’t you noticed that all public funding has completely dried up?’
I clear my throat. She’s not going to make this easy for me. ‘We could get a private investor,’ I go on.
‘A private investor?’ Odette laughs. ‘Please. There are no private investors any more.’
‘There are still people out there who want to invest in the arts,’ I argue, ‘especially if there’s something in it for them too.’ I’m building up to mentioning Xanta. I can’t just wade in and drop the bombshell: it would be too much of a shock for everyone. I have to choose my moment carefully.
‘We’re wasting time.’ Odette dismisses me with a wave of her hand. ‘It’s never going to work.’
‘Hang on, Odette,’ Edward says, his voice steely. ‘Let’s just listen to what Maggie is saying.’
‘Edward, we need to form a consensus about how best to proceed. Time is of the essence, and we can’t afford to waste any more of it.’
‘Some of us have formed a consensus,’ Ted says. ‘Some of us have a very clear consensus.’
‘Yeah, who died and made you Queen of the World?’ Peg mutters, just loudly enough for those sitting in close proximity to hear.
Odette continues as if she hasn’t seen them – it’s as if they’re a muddy spot on her otherwise perfect landscape, best ignored completely. I know if she could somehow get rid of them both she’d do it in a heartbeat.
‘I thought, at this juncture, it would be useful if we had some outside input. To help us focus …’ Odette pauses meaningfully and an excited murmur runs through the hall as people wonder who she’s going to wheel in ‘… so that’s why I’ve invited the chairman of Xanta Ireland here tonight to discuss the development with us.’
‘What?’ Ted roars, his face pink.
Chaos erupts in the hall and there’s a deafening buzz as people process this information.
‘Calm down, Ted,’ Odette shouts over the din. ‘You know full well that Laurence wasn’t given a fair hearing last time around. It’s only right we listen to what he has to say.’
‘The chairman has been here before?’ I ask Betty from the butcher’s.
‘Yes, he came to talk to us a few months ago. It got pretty ugly.’
‘It did?’
‘Laurence had his own security with him and they tried to throw Ted out of the hall.’
Betty doesn’t look too upset by the memory – probably because she and Peg are mortal enemies, even if that has never been openly acknowledged.
Wow. I can’t imagine Ted having to be escorted off the premises – he’s such a gentle soul. Then again, he can get pretty fiery when it comes to this topic.
‘I can’t believe you did this behind our backs, Odette,’ Peg fumes. ‘You’ve ambushed us!’
‘Peg, be reasonable.’ Odette shuffles her papers and avoids Peg’s eye. ‘If I’d told you that Laurence was coming here tonight, you would have refused to attend. This was the only way to get everyone together – it makes perfect sense.’
‘Yeah! I want to hear what he has to say,’ someone calls from behind me.
‘So do I,’ someone else agrees.
‘He’s not a monster, Peg,’ a third says, ‘and we need the jobs.’
‘You see?’ Odette smirks smugly.
Peg slouches in her seat – she’s very unhappy about this development, very unhappy indeed.
Suddenly there’s a flurry of activity at the rear of the hall and a portly man in a pinstripe suit, leather briefcase tucked under his arm, makes his way to the stage.
‘Laurence,’ Odette coos, kissing him on both cheeks, ‘how lovely to see you again.’
‘Odette.’ He kisses her back. ‘You’re looking gorgeous as always.’
‘Oh, thank you,’ she giggles, blushing. ‘I’m so glad you could come.’
‘My pleasure, my dear, my absolute pleasure. Halloooooo, everyone!’ Laurence turns to face the room, his voice booming. ‘Thank you for coming here tonight.’
He’s so Big Top cheery, I almost expect him to do a little tap dance or pull a rabbit from his briefcase to try to impress us all.
‘We wouldn’t have come, if we’d known you’d be here,’ Ted says loudly, his face stony. ‘We were tricked into it.’
‘Peg, Ted, it’s lovely to see you again.’ Laurence beams at them both, ignoring the fact that he’s just been insulted.
‘I wish I could say the same,’ Peg replies. ‘But I can’t.’
‘Ah, now, Peg, don’t give me a hard time. I’m not here to ruffle your feathers. I’m here to talk – have a conversation. There’s nothing wrong with that, is there?’
‘Can snakes have conversations, then?’ Peg says.
‘Bring your thugs with you again, did you?’ Ted adds. ‘Or are they waiting for me outside?’
‘Ho, ho, you two are a tonic, you really are!’
Laurence’s tone is bright, but there’s a brittle edge to it. It seems that Peg and Ted are thorns in his side, no matter how he tries to disarm them with the charm offensive that obviously works so well on Odette.
‘I told you before, all that was a simple misunderstanding,’ he goes on. ‘The boys weren’t going to harm you, Ted, you know that.’
‘I know nothing of the sort!’ Ted snaps, his face thunderous. ‘They – they manhandled me!’
‘They could have killed him!’ Peg shouts. ‘He has high cholesterol, you know – he could be one Mars Bar away from a heart-attack.’
The crowd erupts into animated conversation again and Laurence shifts nervously from foot to foot, unsure how to proceed. ‘Now, now, all that is behind us,’ he says. ‘It’s time to move forward, look to the future.’
‘We could have sued the pants off you!’ Peg shakes her fist at him. ‘We might still!’
‘Peg, let’s give Laurence a chance to speak. It’s only fair,’ Odette wades in, patently eager to break the tension.
‘Fair doesn’t come into it!’ someone shouts.
‘Hear, hear!’ Peg yells.
‘Laurence, can you tell us about any recent developments with regard to the supermarket?’ Odette ploughs on, ignoring the interruptions.
‘Yes, I can, Odette, certainly.’ Laurence clears his throat, and rearranges his jovial features so he instantly looks more serious and businesslike. ‘Well, as you are probably all aware, the supermarket has received the preliminary green light from the council.’
‘Bah!’ Peg huffs. ‘That was very convenient.’
‘So, bar any objections,’ Laurence glances nervously at Peg and Ted, ‘we aim to proceed within the next six weeks. We estimate it will take approximately twelve weeks to build the structure and a further twelve before it’s fitted out and ready to operate. It’ll be state-of-the-art when it’s finished. State-of-the-art!’
‘How exciting!’ Odette breathes.
‘I’m happy you think so.’ Laurence eyes her.
Is it my imagination or is he looking straight at her breasts?
‘So, it will be just over six months before the doors are opened to the general public?’ She simpers.
‘Yes, six months before it’ll be all systems go!’ Laurence gives the thumbs-up, trying to play to the crowd.
I realize, with a jolt, that this is just like a beauty pageant: Odette is the smarmy commentator and Laurence is the hopeful contestant trying to impress the audience – not that he could win any prizes with the waistband of his shiny suit straining round his gut like that.
‘Six months before the village is ruined, you mean!’ someone shouts. Peg and Ted clap furiously.
‘Six months. That’s right, Odette, that’s right.’ Laurence tries valiantly to ignore the protests. ‘All going well, of course.’ He shoots another anxious glance at the front row.
‘And I read that you’re keen to give locals jobs, Laurence?’
It sounds to me as if Odette and Laurence have prepared this patter beforehand – it’s all too smooth, like it’s straight from a press release.
‘That’s very true, Odette.’ Laurence beams. ‘Integration into the community is of the utmost importance to Xanta. We value Glacken very much and we’ll do our absolute best to employ people from the vicinity.’
‘But you won’t guarantee it?’ a familiar voice asks. It’s Edward. He’s leaning against a wall, looking intense, as he poses the question. God, he’s hot when he’s being serious. But I try not to think about that: it’s highly inappropriate – especially as his girlfriend is only a few feet away from us both. Odette would strangle me if she had any inkling of my feelings for her boyfriend. Still, I can’t help but wonder again what Edward sees in her – they’re so different. They even hold opposing views about the supermarket development. Edward is realistic: he knows the supermarket will probably happen but he wants to ensure that the area at least benefits from the development. He genuinely wants what’s best for the village. Odette doesn’t seem to care about any negative impact and she certainly isn’t considering ways to help the community make the most of the situation. I see her narrow her eyes in annoyance at Edward’s query – she’s not taking kindly to him questioning Laurence publicly like this.
‘We’ll do our very best,’ Laurence repeats jovially. ‘But there are no guarantees in life, of course not. We could all be dead tomorrow, I always say that!’
‘I wish you were, that’s for sure,’ Peg says, over the drone of conversation in the room – people aren’t happy about this disclosure.
‘Edward, there’s no point in splitting hairs.’ Odette’s voice is sweet, but with a warning edge. ‘The majority of the supermarket’s workforce will be made up of locals. Isn’t that right, Laurence?’
‘That’s the plan, Odette!’ Laurence booms, smiling happily at the audience. ‘That’s the plan!’
This guy is a smooth operator underneath all the geniality. He knows exactly what he’s doing. He’s dishing out vague promises without setting anything in stone – it’s a clever ploy.
I catch Edward’s eye and he gives a tiny shake of his head. I get the message: tonight is not the time to reveal any more about our arts development idea, not now that Laurence is here – tension is running too high.
I nod back at him to let him know I understand, and he smiles. What is it about that smile that makes me go weak at the knees?
‘And do you think the supermarket will attract many customers, Laurence?’ Odette is still talking. It’s like she’s reading from a cheat sheet she prepared in advance – all this must have been rehearsed.
‘We do indeed, Odette,’ Laurence replies. ‘In fact, I have projected figures here – let me just get them on to the screen so everyone can see.’
A burly man wheels a projector screen on to the stage and I see Ted pale – this must be one of Laurence’s security team, one of the minders who ejected Ted from the hall last time.
Within seconds, the lights are flicked off and the projector is whirring.
‘This looks very promising, very promising indeed!’ Odette murmurs, as everyone scans the pie chart and graph that have sprung up behind her. There’s a jumble of figures running along the bottom – it’s all highly complicated, which I suspect is exactly as Laurence wants it. He wants to dazzle the villagers with facts and figures – blind them with science – so they won’t put up a fight.
‘Who says any of these so-called customers will come into the village, though?’ Ted asks. ‘The exact opposite could happen! They’ll come to the supermarket to do their shopping and then bugger off home again. Glacken will be a ghost town.’
‘Well, now,’ Laurence pulls an understanding face, ‘I take your worries on board, of course I do. But there have been studies done to prove the exact opposite. Here, let me show you.’ He rummages in the half-light and pulls another sheet of paper from his briefcase. Odette slides it under the projector. ‘See here?’ He points to a summary of findings. ‘We opened a supermarket in a small village on the west coast two years ago. Like Glacken, the village was close to the development and, like here, certain villagers had their concerns. Which we took seriously, of course. However, if you read the findings you can see that the village benefited directly from the development. Passing trade increased by thirty per cent and so did profits. It’s a win-win situation – this study proves it.’
‘How fascinating!’ Odette croons. ‘Isn’t it, everyone?’
‘Was that an independent study, by any chance?’ I hear Edward ask.
I see Odette frown in the projector light. ‘Edward, a study is a study,’ she says quickly. ‘The results speak for themselves.’
‘Not exactly, Odette.’ Edward’s voice is sharp. ‘A study can be tweaked to draw almost any conclusion. That’s well known.’
‘What an extraordinary thing to say!’ Laurence barks, his jovial expression hardening a little.
‘Edward, please!’ Odette gasps. ‘This is hardly conducive to good relations.’
‘OK, let’s assume the study was legitimate,’ Edward says. The entire room has swivelled to watch him. ‘Can you tell me where your supermarket was in relation to the village?’
‘I don’t know what you mean!’ Laurence blusters.
‘Don’t you?’ Edward goes on. ‘I bet the store site was such that customers had to drive right through this village to get to the supermarket – am I right? If they did then it stands to reason that a certain percentage would stop, thus the increase in trade.’
‘I – I …’ Laurence is looking at the projector as if willing it to give him some answers.
‘It’s hardly comparable to Glacken, is it?’ Edward says. ‘No customers will drive through here to get to your supermarket, will they, Laurence? The site is far enough away to ensure that.’
There’s a murmur in the hall as everyone processes this news. He’s right, of course. The two situations are completely different.
‘Now, Laurence, I believe you have more news for us.’ Odette is desperate to move the conversation forward, away from this topic. It’s almost as if she wants the supermarket to be pushed through, no matter what. Why is that?
‘Yes, I do.’ Laurence rearranges his face into a smile and beams at the darkened hall again. ‘I know that some of you were slightly concerned that the supermarket was out of keeping with the landscape.’
‘An ugly blot on the countryside, more like!’ Peg shouts.
‘Yes, well,’ Laurence continues, ‘in a gesture of goodwill, we’ve decided to redesign portions of the complex to make it more … aesthetically pleasing. Easier on the eye, like.’
‘Why’s that, Laurence?’ Odette asks, right on cue.
‘Well, Odette, we feel that the structure must reflect what the community is about – we want it to sit comfortably among you.’
‘That was very thoughtful, I must say,’ Odette replies.
‘Thank you,’ Laurence says graciously, as if he thinks he’s some sort of hero. ‘So, to that end, we have gone to enormous expense to redesign the clothing hall section of the building.’
‘You’ve redesigned just one portion of the overall scheme?’ Ted retorts. ‘That’s big of you.’
‘I think you’ll agree it makes a huge difference,’ Laurence says. ‘In fact, just reconfiguring this one section has softened the impact of the whole building. It took a lot of hard work and money to achieve.’
‘I’d say it did!’ Odette says, her face earnest.
‘Yes, but we wanted to get it right,’ Laurence says. ‘We have a top-class team working on this project – our architect is a genius.’
‘Did it take him long to adjust the plans, Laurence?’ Odette asks.
‘Well, Odette, you can ask him yourself because he’s here tonight to answer any of your questions.’
I almost expect him to say, ‘Come on down, the price is right!’ This is all completely staged, I’m certain of it now.
Everyone cranes their neck to see where this architect is hiding.
‘Come on, Robert, step forward – don’t be shy!’
Robert? An architect called Robert? That’s a creepy coincidence. Then again, there are probably hundreds of architects called Robert – it’s not such an unusual name, is it?
It’s so hard to see in the darkness, but a shadowy figure is making his way from the rear of the hall. It’s bizarre – if I didn’t know better it could almost be him: the similarity, even in the darkness, is uncanny. But it couldn’t be. There’s absolutely no way. It’s just my mind playing tricks on me, that’s all.
‘Hmm … not bad.’ Betty whistles beside me. ‘I wouldn’t throw him out of the bed for eating crisps, know what I mean?’
It can’t be. It can’t be. There’s no way on earth …
As he draws closer I can see his features more clearly and my stomach flips. I can’t believe it. It is him. It’s Robert. My Robert. My ex, Robert. He’s Laurence’s architect – and he’s here in Glacken.