The Switch(82)

Will you come and see me before you go tomorrow morning if you can? I’ll be at Selmount, and I’ve not got any meetings. The Selmount office is on your way, right, if you’re heading to King’s Cross?



I type my reply.

Hello, Bee. Don’t you worry. How’s 9 o’clock tomorrow morning? Perhaps if you have time, we could have one last coffee and muffin together. Not a problem if you can’t, of course. Love, Eileen xx



Her reply is almost instant.

Perfect. Sorry again Eileen xxx



The other message is from Howard.

OldCountryBoy says: I’m glad you’re happy with ￡300 to get us started. I promise you, we’ll have double that in donations within a week! xxx

EileenCotton79 says: I’ll give you the cheque when I see you. I can’t wait to see our website soon



Up pops the dot-dot-dot that means he’s typing something.

OldCountryBoy says: I’m ever so sorry, Eileen, but I don’t think I can make it to the launch party. I’ve got lots of work to be getting on with for the website! Could you transfer the money online?



My heart sinks. I thought … I’d really … Well. Never mind. This event wasn’t about Howard and it’s not the end of the world if he can’t come.

EileenCotton79 says: I’m not all set up for banking on the computer I’m afraid. I can post you the cheque, though. Just send me the address. All my best, Eileen xx



‘Eileen?’ comes a familiar voice.

I look up, and there’s Tod – wonderful, handsome Tod. My heart lifts again. I suppose this is why it’s handy to have several men on the go at once.

‘You’re here!’ I stand on tiptoes to kiss him on the cheek.

He looks very dashing in an open-necked shirt and chino trousers. He surveys the hive of activity, looking rather dazed by it all.

‘You did all this?’ he asks.

‘Yes! Well, we all did, really,’ I say, beaming.

‘Oh, hi, is this Tod?’ says Fitz, popping up beside us. He stretches his hand out for Tod to shake. ‘Pleasure to meet you. I fully intend to be you when I grow up.’

‘An actor?’ Tod asks.

‘A proficient lover even in my seventies,’ Fitz corrects him. ‘Ah, no, that’s not a vase, it’s for walking sticks!’

That part was to Letitia. I make an apologetic face at Tod, who is looking very amused, thank goodness.

‘Sorry about the chaos,’ I say, at the same time Tod says, ‘I have some bad news.’

‘What bad news?’

‘The tour bus. It’s needed by the theatre company, I’m afraid.’

I clutch my chest. ‘What You’ve not brought it? We’ve not got transportation?’

Tod looks worried. ‘Oh, dear, was it very important?’

‘Of course it was important! We’ve promised to pick people up!’ I wave my mobile phone at him.

‘Can’t we just order them cabs?’ he asks, nonplussed.

‘So far the lovely people in this building have been funding this club out of their own pocket,’ I snap at him, eyes narrowed. ‘They can’t be paying for who-knows-how-many cab fares on top of everything else.’

‘Oh, right.’ For a moment I think Tod might offer to pay, but he doesn’t, which makes me narrow my eyes even further.

‘Excuse me,’ I say rather frostily. ‘I had better go and sort this out.’

Men. They always bloody let you down, don’t they?

*

I know Sally isn’t keen on the idea of the Silver Shoreditchers, and I’ll bet she’s planning on spending the afternoon firmly locked away in her flat. But we’ve got nobody else to ask. I wait nervously outside her door. She seems to take for ever to answer, and I don’t know what we’ll do if she’s out.

Eventually Sally undoes the three locks on her door, takes one look at me, and ducks back inside.

‘Hello?’ I call, bewildered.

She bobs back up, this time holding her car keys. ‘What’s the emergency this time?’ she says, already closing the door behind her.

She grumbles and sighs all the way out of the building, but I’m not convinced. I think Sally likes to be the hero.

Once she and Fitz have set off, complete with their list of names and addresses, I busy myself setting up dominoes and packs of cards on the tables, nervously glancing towards the door. I’m patting at my hair so often I’m at risk of ruining my lovely new ’do. I can’t seem to stop fussing and fidgeting.

Just as I’ve run out of jobs to do, my phone beeps with a new message. It’s from Arnold.

Dear Eileen,

I thought you’d want to know Betsy gave Cliff the boot today. Leena has sorted her out a safe place to stay for a while, with Nicola from Knargill, and we’ve had some choice words with Cliff, who has promised to move in with his brother in Sheffield by next weekend so Betsy can have her house to herself at last.

Sorry if I’m interrupting your grand opening, I know it’s an important day. But I thought you would want to know.

Arnold.



I clutch the phone to my chest. My first instinct is to call Betsy, but then I remember how I felt right after Wade left, the humiliation, the shame. I didn’t want to speak to a soul, not at first.