Cupid's Way (8 page)

‘Anyway,’ Evie said, turning her back on her grandma, ‘I was just about to ask Zac about his plans for his two houses.’ She stressed “two” and pulled Eloise closer. ‘Aren’t you doing one of them up for your mum, Zac?’

He nodded and stood even more erect.

‘Oh, that’s so lovely,’ Eloise gushed. ‘And you’re a builder? Wow, that’s such a cool job. I bet you could build your own house, couldn’t you? If you wanted to, I mean?’

‘I certainly could. In fact–’

Whatever Zac had been about to say was lost amidst a loud clanging sound. Evie put her hands over her ears and turned to glare at her gran.

‘Right, everyone,’ Mavis shouted. ‘It’s time to stop gassing and get started. We all know what we’re here for. Dynamite Construction wants to bulldoze our homes into the ground – they want to destroy a hundred and fifty years of history, rob us of our memories, take away our very sense of security. They want to–’

Frank interrupted, wrapping his arm around Mavis’s shoulders and hugging her tightly. And not before time – she’d started to get teary again and was looking a little wobbly.

‘What they want to do is wrong, plain and simple,’ he said. ‘And it’s up to us to stop them. Right, folks. Ideas?’

Mavis whispered something in his ear, and Frank turned to Evie. ‘Maybe you could summarise it for us, Evie. Tell us what we’re up against, what the next steps are likely to be, that kind of thing. And then we’d like to hear your ideas for a plan of action.’

Everyone cheered at the word “action”, and Evie forced a smile onto her face. She’d deal with Frank and Mavis later.

‘Okay, here’s what I understood from yesterday’s meeting.’ She repeated word for word what she’d told her gran the day before, but when she got to the part about a compulsory purchase order the residents all started to talk at once.

‘They can’t do that,’ Bob Peacock called out. His son, Alun, who resembled a boxer on the wrong side of the ropes, punched his fist into his palm and said,

‘They’ll have to get past me first.’

Evie held out her hands. ‘We’re a really long way off that, and it might not come to it anyway. I just think it’s best if we know what we’re up against.’ She paused and glanced back at Mavis. ‘The thing is, if it was just more houses or another shopping centre, they wouldn’t stand a chance. The council aren’t interested in destroying our heritage. It’s not in their interest to give planning permission for something so controversial.’ Evie had to raise her voice above the jeers, and Frank shouted for them all to pipe down and let the lady speak.

‘Believe me, I’m just as against this as all of you,’ Evie said, keeping her voice low but insistent. ‘Some of you don’t know me very well, but I’ve been involved in conservation for years.’

‘She’s right,’ Bob Peacock said. ‘I remember her giving me hell when she was a kid, going on about landfill and recycling and all that nonsense.’ Bob’s wife elbowed him and told him to shut up, but Evie nodded.

‘It’s true,’ she said. ‘I was a right little activist back then. And I’m no less passionate now. Cupid’s Way is worth preserving, and not just because my family live here but for its history. But the problem we are facing here is serious. Dynamite Construction want to build a medical centre, not more houses. They want to bring essential services to the local community, and it’s going to be hard to make a case that they aren’t needed.’

‘Why do they want to build it?’ Sarah Lowry said. It was the first time Evie had heard her speak. She had a soft voice, almost girlish, but everyone fell silent to listen. ‘I mean, what’s in it for them?’

Evie smiled, and this time it was genuine. ‘Sarah, you’ve hit the nail on the head. That’s exactly what’s been bugging me, and first thing Monday morning I’m going to make some phone calls and see what I can find out.’

‘That’s my girl.’ Frank started clapping and the others joined in. Evie felt her face burning, and she grabbed her granddad’s hands to make him stop.

‘I can’t promise anything,’ she told them. ‘I only said I’d try and find out.’ But their hopeful faces were so full of joy, Evie didn’t have the heart to squash it. She allowed Bob Peacock to pat her on the back, and shook hands with Tim and the two renters.

‘Just because we’re only renting doesn’t mean we don’t care,’ Cissy said, before diving in for a full-blown hug. Bewildered, Evie patted the younger woman’s back, inhaling her scent of incense and some kind of flowery perfume.

‘Well done, love,’ Frank said when Evie finally retreated back into the gazebo. ‘You’ve really set their minds at ease.’

‘It doesn’t seem much of a plan of action, though,’ she said, running her hands through her hair to flatten it down. Someone had patted her on the head like a bloody dog, and ruffled her hair into a bird’s nest. She had a feeling it was Alun Peacock, and thought she was lucky to have escaped with only messed up hair.

‘It’s a start.’

‘It’s “Evie will sort it out”. Which isn’t fair, Gramps. They can’t put all their faith in me – they hardly know me. We need to be doing stuff, thinking of ways to fight the development plans.’

‘Exactly. And who better to do that than a beautiful young architect who just happens to be staying here for two weeks? I’m sure you’ll have plenty of volunteers if you need any help – Woolly has plenty of time on his hands.’

‘And I’m sure Zac will be happy to help,’ Mavis piped up. She’d recovered her colour, and by the looks of it had demolished half of the cupcakes while Evie had been giving her impromptu speech. ‘I think he really likes you, Evie.’

Evie smiled and gave her gran a hug. She said nothing, confident that her gran’s clumsy attempts at matchmaking would come to nothing. Her phone vibrated in her pocket, and Evie made an excuse and walked to the other side of the gardens. It was a relief just to be away from them all, and she leant against a sturdy blossom tree and closed her eyes. Her phone vibrated again. She pulled it out with a sigh and looked at the screen.

Two texts, both from Michael. Both begging her to meet him in town. Right now.

“Only here for rest of day then got to fly to Edburg.” She assumed that meant Edinburgh. “Plse meet me in Bar Fortune this aftnoon. I’ll be waiting.”

She looked at her phone, then looked back to where her grandparents were standing under the gazebo, holding each other tightly. They were holding each other up in more ways than one, and she had been tasked with helping in any way she could. Would talking to the enemy be helpful? Maybe if she could make him see that there were real people involved here, people who didn’t want what he seemed to think everyone in the world wanted: an anodyne existence in a modern box. Maybe then he would reconsider.

It had to be worth a shot.

And if – she pocketed her phone and walked across the cobbled path, already formulating her excuse in her head – if Evie was a little bit excited at the thought of seeing Michael again, it was only her heart playing tricks on her. She was fully in control, and these days her head made all the decisions. She would never be made a fool of again.

Chapter 8

‘I think this is about as close as I can get you, Evie. Bar Fortune is just down there.’

‘Thanks so much, Sarah. You’re a star.’

Evie’s excuse that she needed to go into town to visit the pharmacy – the best she could come up with on the spot – had been more successful than she’d hoped, netting her a lift from Sarah Lowry who was just on her way out.

Unfortunately, it also meant Evie had to come clean about the pharmacy and confide in Sarah her true reason for the clandestine trip to the city centre. Plus, she didn’t know the location of Bar Fortune, so she had no idea where she should be dropped off. But Sarah had listened without asking any questions, her eyes fixed on the road ahead, and when Evie got to the part about Michael appearing at the meeting yesterday she let out an unexpected guffaw of laughter.

Why, thought Evie, did everyone find it so hysterically funny?

‘So you had no idea?’ Sarah said, shaking her head. ‘No idea at all?’

‘No. How could I? His badge said DMC, which doesn’t actually stand for Dynamite Construction if you think about it. I knew his name was Michael, but I’d never heard of Michael Andrews in connection with the Cupid’s Way development. When he got up to leave I just thought he was bored of me. Or something.’

Sarah threw Evie a look, but said nothing. Evie filled her in on how she’d confronted Michael, and how bemused he’d seemed by the whole thing.

‘I don’t think he’s a bad person,’ Evie said, recognising as she said it that this was more wishful thinking than actual fact. ‘He seemed to be under the impression he was doing you lot some kind of favour.’

This time Sarah’s reaction was less controlled. ‘These big, faceless developers haven’t got a clue, have they? Doing us a favour, indeed. How could forcing people out of their homes ever be considered a favour?’

Evie didn’t have an answer to that, but she did know one thing: Dynamite Construction wasn’t a faceless organisation – it had a face, and that face was a very handsome one that had haunted her dreams for the past two nights.

She got out of the car and waved goodbye to Sarah, who was sworn to absolute secrecy. Evie had tried a couple of times to steer the conversation around to Tim Robinson, but Sarah either didn’t want to talk about him or Evie was losing her touch. She straightened her skirt, wishing she’d changed back into her jeans before she came out, or that she’d resisted her gran’s insistence that she dress up for the party. She didn’t want Michael to think she’d made an effort just for him.

Bar Fortune was a double-fronted, coffee-coloured eatery on the waterfront, slap bang in the middle of the city centre. Immediately she walked inside, Evie felt intimidated. Slouching languidly behind the bar were three impossibly beautiful waitresses, and each one turned and stared at Evie as she looked around for Michael. He was nowhere to be seen.

Deciding she had no option but to brazen it out, Evie stepped up to the bar and ordered a cappuccino.

‘A cappuccino,’ the nearest waitress repeated in a flat voice. When she stood up to her full height she towered above Evie, who felt more dumpy and plain than ever. She wasn’t overweight – far from it – but no woman with any kind of curves who stood just under five feet without shoes could ever be described as lithe. The waitresses were lithe. The one serving Evie slid across to a coffee machine and began to fiddle around with some levers, managing to look bored the whole time. Evie sighed and looked around again. Still no sign of Michael. So much for “I’ll be waiting for you.”

She tried to pull herself on to a bar stool, but gave up after two attempts. Her skirt was too short to be able to manage it gracefully without some kind of step-up. The waitress glided over with Evie’s coffee and told her it was four pounds fifty. Just as well Evie wasn’t sitting on the bar stool after all – she’d have fallen off in shock.

‘Actually,’ Evie said, gathering up her courage, ‘I’m meeting someone here and I expect he has a tab. Perhaps you could put the coffee on that. His name is Michael Andrews.’

At the mention of Michael’s name the waitress perked up, but not in a good way. She thrust out her non-existent chest and looked down at Evie. ‘Mr Andrews does indeed have a tab,’ she drawled, ‘but I’m not at liberty to add just anybody’s drinks to it.’

‘Evie isn’t just anybody,’ said a voice behind her. ‘Evie is my guest.’

The waitress simpered a little and ducked away with an apology. Evie took her time in turning around. She wondered if he made of habit of scenes like this – perhaps he hid around corners so he could step up at the perfect moment to rescue women from some embarrassing or awkward situation. She picked up her coffee and took a sip, wincing as the hot liquid scalded her lips. Then she slung her bag over her shoulder and whirled around to face him.

It was like being slugged in the stomach with a sandbag. Dressed once again in a white shirt, this time paired with faded blue jeans, Michael seemed to have doubled in gorgeousness in the past twenty-four hours. Which was ridiculous, of course. His hair curled around his ears, just a tiny bit too long to be tidy, and his eyes were just as twinkly as Evie remembered, and just as deep and inviting. When he smiled at her, the dimples in his cheeks caused a chain reaction; she smiled in return, before remembering why she was here and who he was and that she really shouldn’t be smiling at all.

‘Shall we sit down?’ he said, making it sound like an invitation to a grand ball. Evie nodded and allowed herself to be led to a table by the window. Michael’s jacket was thrown over the back of the sofa and the table was strewn with empty sugar packets and covered in paperwork.

‘You’ve been here a while?’ she said, sitting on the very edge of the low sofa opposite him.

‘I like to work in here sometimes. It’s less stuffy than the office. And the view is very stimulating.’

If her ex-boyfriend had made that comment, he’d no doubt have glanced at the waitresses and winked, leaving Evie in no doubt as to what kind of view he was talking about. James was a Neanderthal, a fact Evie had failed to notice until he left her for a twenty-year-old vegan animal rights activist. They now lived in a yurt, apparently, and the twenty-year-old was carrying his child. Not that Evie cared. Michael, however, was staring out of the window at … the view. Across the river was Castle Park, where the ruins of the medieval church rose majestically above the trees. Bristol’s skyline spread out behind it in glorious diversity, with the spires of All Saints, Christchurch and St Nicholas sitting comfortably among the modern tower blocks.

‘I love this view as well,’ Evie confessed. ‘There’s nothing quite like the mixture of the ancient and the modern. Bristol is beautiful because of it.’

Michael regarded her, his gaze intense, and Evie felt her face flush. She picked up her coffee and took another sip to mask her embarrassment.

‘That’s exactly what I love about it,’ he said, taking his eyes away from hers to look back out of the window. ‘You can see my office building from here. Just next to All Saints. See it? The glass one just there?’

Evie looked but didn’t really take it in. She shook her head and put down her cup. ‘Michael, I don’t understand you.’