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Mia wondered if she even had the words to explain it. “This morning,” she said after a pause. “Ditsy attacked Jacques on the Esplanade to get this letter.”
“Okay,” Charlie said, drawing the word out. “Why?”
Mia shook her head. “The question is, how did she know he had it?”
“That’s easy,” Charlie answered. “Jacques told her. He’s been telling everyone all day you had a letter from...” He trailed off.
“Exactly.” Mia sighed and took another slug of wine. “The whole town knows I have this letter, and they’re all waiting to see what I do with it.”
“And if you open it?”
“Then I’m still George Page’s daughter.” She sighed again. “And everything that goes along with the title.”
“He’s still your father,” Charlie murmured. “It’s okay to want to hear from him.”
Mia gave a short, sharp laugh. “Not according to Aberarian. You know, I’ve spent fourteen years trying to make them forget that I’m his daughter. I knew they wouldn’t forget what he did, but I thought...”
“You thought they’d see you aren’t like him,” Charlie finished. “They do, Mia. I’m sure they do.” He reached over and squeezed her hand. “Besides, they’re the idiots who hired him as a teacher and voted him in to manage the museum.”
“And so they deserved to have their head of history run off in the middle of the GCSE mocks with the school secretary and the contents of the museum safe?”
“I heard they don’t even know what was in the safe. He might just have left it open because it was empty. Maybe he didn’t take anything.” Mia gave him a look, and Charlie shrugged. “Okay, maybe they didn’t deserve that. I’m just saying, it’s not your fault.”
“But I was the last one here to blame after Mum skipped town. And you know what this town is like. Old scandals never really die, they just take naps. I’ll only ever be the daughter of a philandering thief.”
“And I’ll always be the outsider whose fiancee ran out on him.” Charlie shrugged again. “If you want somewhere people don’t know you, why don’t you leave?”
“Because I love it here. I love the town and the beach and my friends.” She gave Charlie a smile. “Besides, there’s no way in hell I’d let those busybodies drive me out.” Charlie laughed, and she turned the question back on him. “Why don’t you?”
“Same reasons,” he said, but the secretive sort of smile on his face when he looked at her made Mia nervous.
Of course he wouldn’t want to leave. Not when Becky had just arrived.
“So, what are you going to do?” Charlie asked, prodding the letter near her again.
Mia stared at it, thinking hard. Then she said, “I’m not going to satisfy anyone’s curiosity. If my father wants to know how his daughter’s doing after fourteen years and thinks a letter will suffice, I’m not giving him the satisfaction.” She grabbed the letter and shoved it into her bag. “And if the town wants to know what he has to say, they can bloody well track him down and ask him themselves. Because I’m not opening the letter.”
Mia drained the rest of her wine and held the glass out to Charlie. “Come on. Pour me another. And then we’re going out. I want to take my mind off all this.”
Chapter 5
The Coliseum was deserted, despite the handwritten poster promising a special midnight showing of It Happened One Night.
“Maybe he’s not opening tonight,” Charlie suggested, feeling sympathetic for Walt. After all, he’d been railroaded by Becky before. He knew how it felt. “Given the circumstances.”
“The circumstances are exactly why he should be open tonight,” Mia said, fumbling by the door for the lightswitch.
“So we can make the most of it, before it the place becomes filled with slot machines instead?” Charlie stepped forward and flipped the switch for her.
“How did you know it was there?” Mia asked, suddenly bathed in light.
Charlie shrugged. “I pay attention.” He didn’t add that he’d also drunk considerably less wine over the course of the evening.
“Mia?” Walt appeared from the back office, his remaining hair sticking out sideways and his candy cane striped shirt wrinkled. “Is everything okay?”
“We’re just here for the movie,” Mia told him, then squinted. “Doesn’t Susan object to you falling asleep at your desk so often?”
Charlie was starting to regret giving her that last glass of wine.
Walt tipped his head to one side and made an effort to smooth down his hair, with little effect. “Not really.”
“Anyway,” Charlie said, stepping closer to Mia, ready to lead her out the door. “Obviously you’re not running the midnight movie tonight, so we’ll just...”
“It’s twenty past,” Walt pointed out. “I didn’t think you were coming.”
“We always come!” Mia said, sounding indignant. “When have we not come?”
Walt glanced away at one of his posters of forties stars. “I just thought... Well, nevermind. Let me get you your tickets.” He stepped into the box office. “Do you want popcorn? There’s none fresh, but I’ve got bags.”
“That’ll be fine,” Charlie said, reaching for his wallet. Something starchy in Mia’s stomach couldn’t hurt.
Walt rang up their tickets and popcorn on the ancient till and handed over two tiny paper tickets to Charlie. Then, grabbing his torch from beneath the counter, he stepped out to lead them into the Coliseum’s one and only screen. “You’ll just have to give me a moment to get everything fired up.”
Charlie shepherded Mia after him. They might just make it through the film quite pleasantly.
Then Mia stopped halfway to their seats, right in the center of the empty auditorium, and said, “Why didn’t you tell me things were this bad, Walt?”
Walt sank down into one of the scruffy red velvet tipping seats, torch between his knees. “Tony told you, then.”
“Becky, actually.” Mia dropped into the seat beside him. “Which is even worse.”
Nodding, so his head sunk lower onto his chest, Walt mumbled, “I’m sorry about that.”
“You should have told me,” Mia said again, and Charlie, realizing they weren’t going to be watching a film anytime soon, took a seat in the row in front and opened the popcorn.
“Why? There wasn’t anything you could do.” Walt looked up and gave them both a sheepish smile. “Besides, I kept hoping for a miracle. Something to make it unnecessary.”
“I did hear from Jenny at the post office that Susan’s been buying a lot of lottery tickets lately.” Mia shook her head. “I should have guessed.”
Charlie wasn’t quite sure how Mia expected she could have made that intuitive leap, but he knew she’d beat herself up about it anyway. “Is there nothing we can do?” Charlie asked, folding his arms on the back of his seat as he looked over at them.
“Nothing I haven’t already tried.” Walt shrugged. “The money just isn’t there.”
“We could find it, maybe,” Mia said, but even she didn’t sound optimistic. “Have some sort of fundraiser.”
“What difference does it make?” Walt’s eyes were bright and his cheeks flushed. “People don’t want to come and see old movies any more. And if people don’t want to come here, why bother saving it?”
“Because we love it!” Mia wrapped an arm around the older man’s shoulders. “And I know everyone else would too...”
“If they came,” Walt finished. “Exactly. You think I haven’t tried to get them here? Ever since the huge multiplex opened in Coed-y-Capel, even the kids don’t want to come for the wet weather matinees. They don’t want this anymore, Mia. It’s over.”
“I think you’re wrong,” Mia said, sounding mutinous, and Charlie wondered how she planned on proving it.
Charlie took another handful of popcorn from the bag, and Walt jumped to his feet. “Anyway, you’re here for a film, not a sob story. And it’s one of my favorites too.”
“Co
me and watch it with us,” Mia said, her eyes soft, and Walt nodded.
“I’ll just go and start the reel,” he said, and disappeared through the door to the projection room on the balcony.
Charlie slipped out of his seat and settled beside Mia. “You okay?”
