‘You think I need to mention that?’
‘Well, only if it contains it…’
Jaxx made a note on his phone.
‘Man. If only there was, like, some club or a group or something like this, where serious business people like us could get together and find all this stuff out,’ he mused. ‘We could share ideas and try out each other’s products. Tell them their website’s boring, all that.’
‘That’s a great idea!’ Trev interjected. ‘You should set one up.’
‘We totally should!’ Jaxx gave him a high five.
‘According to the poster, there already is one,’ I said, pointing to the notice board by the entrance. ‘It meets… every other Friday at one.’
Trev looked at his watch. ‘It’s one thirty.’
‘Oy, Irene!’ Jaxx shouted across the library, causing her to flick up her head, eyes blazing. Although, when she saw who had called out, the heat dropped by several degrees. ‘What about this business group that meets on Fridays?’
Irene wrinkled up her nose. ‘They disbanded.’
‘Why?’
She hesitated. ‘Something to do with a disagreement about biscuits and a guest speaker.’
‘Was the disagreement with you?’ Yasmin asked, smiling sweetly.
Irene became engrossed in straightening the papers on her desk.
‘Well, there can be no objections to the group restarting, then, can there?’ Trev said.
‘The group won’t want to restart,’ Irene snapped. ‘They said they would never set foot in the library again. Which is fine by me, because the Friday Business Hub is barred.’
‘Well, how about the Wednesday Business Builders?’ Jaxx asked. ‘No biscuits, unless we offer you some, Irene. See.’ He winked at Yasmin. ‘That’s the kind of quick thinking means I’m going to be a millionaire one day.’
After a lot more wrangling, finished off by me offering to speak to the director of Notts libraries, who loved ReadUp, Irene agreed to a small meeting, once a fortnight, for business support. The terms included no presentations, or activities that might disturb the other library users. Biscuits were allowed, in return for a small donation.
Trev asked if he could join them.
‘Of course, mate, the more the merrier. What’s your business idea?’ Jaxx asked.
I strongly suspected that any ideas Trev had were nothing to do with business.
‘Reckon I can come up with something.’
22
When there was a knock on Saturday morning, I was surprised to find Pia, Sam’s mum, wringing her hands on my doorstep.
‘I’m so sorry it’s taken me a whole week to call in!’ she exclaimed, leaning past Nesbit’s enthusiastic greeting to give me a suffocating squeeze. ‘We were away last weekend, and then I’ve had my grandchildren to stay.’
‘Um, okay.’ I stepped back automatically, directing her towards the garden. It was a gloomy day for August, with a distinct nip in the air, but the living room and kitchen were still a complete mess, due to me choosing to keep my promise to Yasmin and spend Friday evening tidying up myself and my wardrobe before collapsing into fretful sleep, ignoring the disgusting state of the cottage. I tried to wrack my brains to find a reason why Pia should have called around. I’d not seen her since the outdoor theatre a few weeks ago, and couldn’t recall anything being said then or since about her coming over.
‘Would you like a tea or coffee?’ I asked, once we were safely seated at the table.
‘Goodness, no! You sit down and stay put. I should be the one making you a drink!’
‘Um, the kitchen’s in a bit of a state.’
She looked at me askance, adding, ‘Well, of course it is!’ before going back inside.
A few awkward minutes later, she came out of the kitchen with two mugs of tea.
‘My dear, I am so, so sorry,’ she said, once she’d sat down, and then promptly burst into tears. Wow. I didn’t realise the kitchen was quite that bad.
‘I’m sorry,’ she said a few more times while blowing her nose and dabbing at perfectly made-up eyes. ‘I know I have no right to be the one crying. I just feel so guilty. When I heard what happened, I couldn’t believe it.’
‘Um, I don’t really know—’
‘In hospital!’ she cried. ‘Ginger said that Joan found her – collapsed! Oh, that poor, poor girl. Those poor, poor girls.’
‘Leanne.’
‘Well, of course. Why else would I be here?’