The Heat Is On Page 12

  ‘Have you fainted or something?’

  ‘Sorry Charlie, it’s brilliant. Huge and brilliant, I can’t quite believe it, can you?’

  ‘Not really. When I saw that we had an email from them, I sort of expected it to be a rejection. I was all geared up for that and when I opened it, I had to read it twice.’

  ‘So what happens now? How do they decide between the final three?’

  ‘They’ve said they love the weddings idea but want us to create something unique to help spread the word.’

  That helps to settle my nerves a little; they’re not just having us on. Charlie and I can easily build on the plan and make our original thoughts more gorgeous. We can do this.

  ‘And we should also take stock of the investment requirement now we know what we’re up against with Lorenzo,’ adds Charlie.

  He didn’t need to say that. We both know that since Launch opening, things have been tougher than we’d anticipated and although we’re fired up about the new ideas, we have to sell them and get customers through the door. We’ve a lot to think about before we move into the second stage of the bid. We agree to meet up this evening and having hung up the phone, I jump out of bed, my head spinning with ideas and obstacles in equal measure.

  I check the phone before I get into the shower. There still hasn’t been a call from Michael since the group hug in the shop – no messages or emails either. I have left lots of voicemails but I need to find time to go round to see him. Why is everything coming to a head at once? It’s going to be such a big day. Before I go to into Mercury I have to head to my parents’ house to explain the treasure trail concept to my dad. I’ve chosen the early hour of my visit carefully to coincide with sample hour at Mum’s favourite supermarket. She’ll be gone for ages, eating her way around the store.

  Dad greets me at the door and we grab cups of coffee before heading into his snug. It’s a distinctly Dad kind of room. None of Mum’s cushions or flower arrangements; instead models of vintage cars and rows upon rows of books. There’s a layer of dust here that wouldn’t be permitted anywhere else in the house but Mum is not allowed to touch anything in this room. Apparently she once threw out some old paper, which turned out to be ‘important’ quiz notes, hence her banishment. It must drive her nuts and I imagine that’s part of the reason he does it.

  Dad is excited by the trip idea as soon as I start talking about it. I knew he would be as it combines his love of cars and questions. His only beef is that if he develops the trail, he won’t be able to take part in it. I promise to find another quizmaster to challenge him if this one takes off.

  ‘So I can pick any country?’ he asks.

  ‘As long as people would want to go there,’ I reply. ‘You may have millions of quiz questions about Afghanistan but I think I might have trouble selling a holiday there.’

  Dad starts pulling out quiz books and atlases. I love that he’s going to develop this with old school technology.

  ‘If I take questions from Google,’ he explains, practically salivating as he leafs through the pages, ‘they’ll be easy for others to find. Just one mobile search and they’ll be there.’

  He’s now so engrossed that I feel like a spare part in the room, so say goodbye and head towards the door. I don’t get out in time. Mum turns the key in the lock and jumps when she sees me.

  ‘I thought you were a burglar,’ she tells me.

  ‘With a handbag?’

  ‘You might just be after the building society books or something to steal my identity. It’s a real thing you know, someone could be out there pretending to be me.’

  Oh lord, I hope no one ever steals Mum’s identity. What would they do? Pound the reduced aisles together? The thought of two of her on the rampage is just too much to imagine.

  ‘Anyway,’ she continues, ‘shouldn’t you be at work?’

  I explain that I’ve asked Dad for some help with a treasure trail.

  ‘You could have asked me,’ she huffs. ‘I used to watch that TV programme with Anneka Rice. Will you need someone to go up in a helicopter?’

  I very quickly tell her I won’t.

  Mum heads through to stand at the door of Dad’s study and I follow.

  ‘I thought today was sample day,’ I say.

  ‘It’s supposed to be.’ Mum holds her hands up in despair. ‘But Moira’s daughter has gone and had a baby, so she’s giving up the sampling to look after her. Who’s going to look after me and the other regulars? The new girl might be a bit mean with the give aways.’

  Moira is the woman who hosts the sampling table. Over the years, she has become one of Mum’s best friends, probably because she is in charge of giving out free cake. It’s highly inconsiderate of her to choose to look after her first grandchild rather than my mother. What was she thinking?

  ‘You know Patty needs a job,’ I tell her, lighting a bulb in my mum’s brain. I can see it through her ears. ‘She might enjoy doing some sampling.’

  ‘That’s a brilliant idea,’ she replies. ‘Patty knows what a proper slice of cake looks like. She wouldn’t be doing all those thin pieces you can barely taste. I’ll tell Moira about her.’

  I may have just netted a double-whammy: Patty and my mother fully occupied in one fell swoop. What a day this is turning out to be.

  ‘How’s my own granddaughter doing anyway?’ Dad asks. As we’re lurking, he’s given up trying to concentrate on his books.

  ‘Really well,’ I tell him. ‘She’s working very hard, maybe too hard, though. She told us she’s hardly seeing Jamie at the moment, I do worry about them.’

  ‘Well, you know what they say: the apple doesn’t fall very far from the tree,’ says Mum.

  I frown at her.

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘Have you told her?’ Mum directs the question at Dad. He sighs and gives her a ‘don’t interfere’ look. I hold my arms out to indicate that someone needs to tell me.

  ‘Michael came round late last night,’ he says gently. ‘He brought some tools back.’

  I could guess at the significance of this but Mum spells it out.

  ‘Because he doesn’t think he’ll be seeing us again.’

  ‘Did he say that?’

  ‘He didn’t have to, why else would he bring them back. Have you two split up?’ Mum wags her finger at me and I shake my head.

  In my mind we haven’t, but I can see that my schizophrenic behaviour really might look that way. Running for my life at any attempt to get intimate, taking Patty on the weekend away, communicating only by text, the group hug last night and then leaving millions of voicemails. If it had been the other way round, I’d have given the tools back even earlier. Damn it, I hate it when Mum is bang on the money.

  ‘You need to book one of those date nights, too,’ Mum continues to lecture.

  ‘What do you think Dad?’

  He stands up and gives me a hug.

  ‘I’m the last person to ask about relationships. But I do think that you obviously have a lot on and you probably don’t need to do all of this alone,’ he says. ‘He’s a nice guy you know and would love to be helping you. It’s in his nature.’

  I nod knowing that he’s right and leave the house before Mum can offer advice, too. I walk slowly trying to straighten things out in my mind. When I think about the future, he’s in it and despite everything that’s worrying me right now, I don’t want to lose him. I really don’t. Suddenly I’m back on that shoreline and I notice that Michael’s boat still has a tow rope attached to a mooring. Just one tug and he’ll start drifting back to me. I need to see Michael today and I can’t accept no for an answer.

  I call him repeatedly and on the fourth time he answers.

  ‘Hi there, it’s the invisible woman,’ I laugh but get no response. ‘Michael, I’m really sorry that I’ve been all tied up in the business. I’ve been a complete pain in the backside.’

  Still nothing. I can’t repair this with platitudes.

  ‘Please forgive me,
’ I say. ‘I really like you and I don’t want to lose you but I’m out of my depth with all of this. I was trying to keep the tougher parts of my life out of our relationship so that when we’re together we don’t have to worry about Mercury or Lorenzo or anything else for that matter. But I realise now that’s not going to work. Please let me try again.’

  ‘You don’t have to try to protect me,’ Michael replies softly. ‘Relationships are about dealing with the tough times, too.’

  ‘I know and I’m sorry.’

  ‘Shall we meet up tonight?’ he asks.

  I’ll be reviewing the proposal feedback with Charlie and although my instinct is still to keep work and pleasure separate, I have to start letting Michael in if I’m serious about this.

  ‘That would be perfect,’ I say tentatively, ‘but there’s something I have to do tonight. We got through to the final three bids, so we have to go over the island proposal but it would be absolutely brilliant to have you there. Do you mind? Please say you’ll come.’

  Fortunately, he’s happy to come along, and after working hours, Michael appears at the shop door and I let him in. We’re both fairly sheepish but pretending all is well. Charlie senses the slight awkwardness and does what he always does – he makes Michael feel at home.

  ‘Thank goodness you’re here,’ he gushes. ‘We need the man behind the yurt inspiration. Come on, sit beside me.’

  Michael dutifully sits down at the table between Charlie and Josie. I join them opposite with Peter. Each of us has a copy of the proposal and the feedback given to us. We look through the questions we now have to answer. There are some health and safety issues, some legal requirements and some clarifications on the timescales. Michael studies them and tells us that he can tackle anything to do with the grounds themselves. Charlie gives him a pat on the back and I’m relieved that he’s involved so quickly.

  ‘I can review the legislation,’ adds Peter. ‘The questions look quite straightforward, so I’ll get a lawyer friend of mine on to them.’

  ‘So we need to get creative,’ I say to Charlie and Josie. ‘How do we make the resort famous yet still keep it exclusive?’

  Silence.

  ‘It’ll always be exclusive because it’s quite a small resort,’ begins Charlie. ‘You couldn’t host a cast of thousands there.’

  ‘Is there anything else the bride and groom can do there?’ I ask, thinking of those snorkelling weddings but really not wanting to suggest it.

  ‘There’s a stunning catamaran cruise at sunset,’ says Peter. ‘You could make that part of the package on the day before the wedding and show that you’re boosting other local businesses.’

  ‘Everything you’ve said and shown us, just conjures up the most beautiful images,’ adds Michael. ‘Do you need any more than that? Isn’t it enough to capture the couple’s imagination?’

  He’s right in a way, we shouldn’t aim for gimmicks. The resort sells itself when people see it. When Peter and Charlie showed us their pictures on the big screen…

  ‘Can we do something on TV?’ I suddenly ask, then work through my thoughts. ‘It’s a small island, so not everyone will be able to go even if the couple want them there. They’ll have a video of their wedding and people will be posting up pictures but what if we go one step further? What if we stream the wedding somehow and you can join it live? Is that kind of thing possible Josie?’

  ‘Totally,’ says Josie. ‘I can look into that if you like?’

  ‘You could check with Patty,’ I suggest. ‘Her friend Craig might know people.’

  She heads off to call our leading lady.

  ‘I have some other ideas about making the experience truly unique,’ Charlie says. ‘I was thinking about the bride’s jewellery and wondering whether it could be made locally. The rings can be bought nowhere but on the island; they’d be a constant reminder of the beach.’

  ‘That sounds wonderful.’

  ‘And how about a free seventeenth-wedding-anniversary trip?’

  ‘Why seventeen? It seems a long time to wait,’ I say.

  ‘Seventeen is the shell anniversary. It’s perfect,’ Charlie gushes.

  It’s lovely and I can picture the couple strolling along the beach on their return to the island and choosing each other a gorgeous mother-of-pearl shell that means everything to them.

  ‘I adore this idea,’ I tell him. ‘It really celebrates love and togetherness. We just have to do it.’

  It also says future to me. It says Mercury will be around to celebrate the shell weddings of our first guests even if Charlie and I are long retired. That would be glorious.

  ‘It’s nice to think about a future when all of this is a huge worldwide success and Lorenzo just a speck on our dim and distant past,’ I say.

  Looking through the numbers, it is going to be tough and we definitely can’t finance it from Mercury reserves. That option is well and truly gone thanks to all the heavy discounts we’ve had to give.

  ‘We can still pull out of this now if you’re not sure,’ says Charlie. ‘We’ve proven that we had a good idea, but if the timing isn’t right, we can say no and we should have the courage to do it.’

  This is the second time he’s given me the chance to back out today. I’m not sure whether he’s nervous or he thinks I am. Surely he wouldn’t have been thinking of all the new ideas if he wanted to give up on this dream. I remember him telling me that he was too emotional about the resort and he needed me to be the practical one. I have to give him a practical reason for continuing; I so want Charlie to have this.

  ‘It wouldn’t be sensible to back out,’ I tell him. ‘Look at the revenue forecasts for the wedding idea compared to what we’re achieving now with Mercury. If Lorenzo keeps up this game for any length of time, we’ll need the island to prop up the travel club. It’s a really sound investment, Charlie, and one that we’re going to be really good at. Let’s take that bank loan and make a real go of this.’

  Charlie leans over the table and practically strangles me with his hug.

  ‘Have I ever told you just how much I love you?’ he declares, planting a big kiss on my cheek. ‘After me, you are the luckiest man in the world,’ he tells Michael.

  I look quickly at Michael to try to read his thoughts. He’s just nodding. And blushing.

  Sweet Dreams are Made of This

  I think I read that three of the top ten most stressful things you can do are: start a business, start a relationship and move house. Well, expanding a business, defeating a competitor and rescuing a relationship while trying to move house must also count. Death is also on that list and there is a danger I might murder my mother and best friend right now for reasons I will come to shortly. I get the keys to my new apartment soon and with everything that’s been going on, I completely forgot about it until a letter from the solicitors arrived to formalise the completion date. We’ve also redrafted the second-stage bid with all our new ideas and informed the bank that we’re through to the next stage. Having done all I can for Mercury, I’m looking forward to a little nest building. It’s a nice distraction and also a perfect way to show Michael that he’s part of my future. We’re still slightly tender around each other but I’m really trying.

  ‘I’m going to look for some new furniture,’ I tell him. ‘Would you like to come and help me pick out a sofa? After all, you’ll be sitting on it as much as I will.’

  That last bit was so obviously added to make a point, but he laughs and tells me he’d be delighted to.

  ‘Unless you’d rather take Patty,’ he adds.

  I most definitely would not rather take Patty right now. She’s unemployed again after a sampling stand-off with my mum. As if I don’t have enough on my plate, in the middle of this week, I found two very unwelcome visitors hammering on the door just as I’d filled the bath and was about to spend the evening relaxing.

  ‘This woman is an absolute nightmare,’ said Patty as she barged through my door with my mother hot on her heels. ‘She got me fi
red.’

  ‘I had a right to, you were doing it all wrong and besides, I got you that job in the first place,’ replied Mum.

  I thought longingly about the hot, scented bubbly water upstairs knowing that I’d be waving it goodbye in a few hours as it flowed down the plughole, flat and cold.

  ‘You didn’t get me the job. You just suggested it, I got it for myself by absolutely nailing the interview,’ continued Patty. ‘They probably recognised my natural ability to engage the public and my love of food.’

  ‘They could hardly miss that,’ sniped Mum. I scolded her with a big frown.

  ‘So I started today and there was a brand new summer puddings range. I had to ensure everyone got the chance to taste them,’ explained Patty, ‘but that was near impossible because SOMEONE went up and down the aisle at least three times until she’d finished the plateful all by herself.’

  ‘There was plenty left,’ protested Mum.

  ‘Only because I kept the last few hidden until you’d gone.’

  ‘I knew you’d done that!’ said Mum. ‘I watched you from behind the crumpet aisle. I saw you’d got some underneath the counter. I thought you were taking them home.’

  ‘That still didn’t give you any right to hijack my trolley and yell out to everyone I had a hidden stash.’

  ‘They had a right to know,’ replied Mum.

  ‘She caused a riot,’ continued Patty. ‘Then, no sooner had we got the summer puddings sorted, she starts telling the customers that I’m doing it all wrong.’

  ‘She did soup in the morning,’ Mum told me horrified. ‘I mean everyone knows soup is for lunchtimes or evenings when busy professionals are passing through.’

  ‘I can sample things when I like,’ replied Patty, ‘and at least I knew you wouldn’t be stealing all the soup or the beer.’

  ‘You see?’ said Mum, ‘she’s sampling things I don’t like just to annoy me.’