‘Oh, yes, Mr Neville is very talented.’
‘Mr Neville?’ repeated Sid. Lottie recognised from the twitch in his cheek a grin was pulling at his mouth.
‘Yes, Mr Neville’s my parrot. He sings Tosca.’
Sid nodded. ‘And can we see this talent in action?’
Lottie readied her camera as Mrs Harker approached the CD player and switched it on. The music started and Mr Neville, as if by magic, came to life. He opened his wings and rocked on his feet as he screeched in unison with the music. Lottie lifted her camera and took some shots. Calling it singing was going a bit far, but it was certainly entertaining. A moment later, Mrs Harker switched off the music and Sid conducted the interview.
‘Well, thank you very much, Mrs Harker,’ he said when he’d finished. ‘That’s quite a parrot you’ve got there.’
‘He’s great, isn’t he?’ she replied, opening his cage to take him out. ‘Did you want to take your coat off, young man? You look a little bit hot.’
‘No, thanks. I’m fine,’ said Sid, wiping his top lip.
Lottie repressed a laugh.
‘I was so sorry to hear about your grandmother passing, Miss Webster,’ said Mrs Harker.
Lottie paused as a shiver ran down her spine. ‘You knew my nan?’
‘Yes, dear, I went to school with her and we played bingo together for years. She was a lovely woman.’
‘Yes, she was.’
‘It was wonderful what she was trying to do for the town, she was always working hard to make a difference. Such a shame she never quite got the theatre going again.’
Lottie opened her mouth, but nothing came out. Grabbing the bottle of water Sid offered, she took a big drink.
‘Did Mrs Webster talk much about the theatre?’ Sid asked. He must have seen her impression of a goldfish and stepped in.
‘Oh yes, she had grand plans. Elsie was going to make it like it was when we were young. Get the community involved again. I think that was where she met your granddad, Miss Webster.’
Lottie’s eyes darted to Mrs Harker’s face. She had no idea that was why the theatre meant so much to her nan. From the depths of her mind she remembered Elsie telling her the story. How she spotted him from across the aisle and that was that. Love at first sight. Lottie had responded by saying how lovely and picking up her book, burying herself in another time, another place. She bit her lip feeling ashamed.
‘All the bingo club were behind her, you know. Johnnie, the caller – the guy who calls out legs eleven and two fat ladies, and all that – he said that we could move back there when Elsie finished renovating it.’
Lottie tightened her grip on the water bottle and swallowed. She needed to get outside into the fresh air. ‘I think, Mrs Harker, it would be a lovely idea to get a picture of you and Mr Neville in front of your house, if you don’t mind?’
‘Not at all, dear,’ she replied, admiring Mr Neville and stroking his feathers. ‘Are you sure you’re alright? You look quite pale.’
‘Yes, I’m fine, thank you.’ Lottie’s voice was high and squeaky. Her hand shook as she clicked the camera, but finally, after a few attempts, she had the shot.
Sid escorted Mrs Harker back to her door and said goodbye as Lottie climbed into the car and pulled another bottle of water from her camera bag. She watched Sid remove his jacket and move round to the driver’s side to get in.
‘Okay, you were right,’ he said, wiping his forehead with the back of his hand. ‘I was absolutely roasting in there. Why do old dears always have the heating on? I mean, I know it’s still chilly, but come on.’ He looked at Lottie, his furrowed brow accentuating his crooked nose. ‘Are you alright?’
‘I am now I’m out of there.’
‘Was it the bit about your nan?’
Lottie stared at him in disbelief. ‘Of course it was! I wasn’t so impressed by an opera-singing parrot I nearly fainted.’
‘Alright,’ he said sarcastically. ‘I was just checking.’
Lottie pushed a stray lock of hair behind her ear. If Sid wasn’t so genuinely clueless when it came to women she would have been cross with him. ‘Sorry. I know I’m being unbearable at the moment.’
His cheeky grin returned. ‘That’s okay.’
‘It’s just that, I knew the theatre meant a lot to Nan, but I …’
‘What?’ asked Sid, softly.
She shook her head, unable to steer her brain into forming a sentence. A familiar wave of grief and sadness washed over her, tinged with panic and fear at what she was being asked to do.
‘Listen, Lots. I know you don’t want to deal with your nan’s letter but I think we have to. You can’t keep ignoring it.’
Elsie’s final gift to her hadn’t been at all what Lottie had expected and she had no idea how to deal with it. ‘There’s nothing to talk about, Sid. I’m not doing it and that’s final.’
‘But, Lottie, your nan must have thought this was what you needed. You can’t keep shoving your head in the sand and pretending it never happened.’
She crossed her arms over her chest. ‘Yes, I can.’
‘No, you can’t.’ Sid ran his hand through dark curls that maintained a stubborn unruliness no matter how short they were cut. If Sid was her type – which he wasn’t – she might have thought him handsome in a geeky way. ‘I’m not trying to annoy you.’
‘I know you’re not. You don’t need to try.’ She gave a weak smile.
Sid started the engine and began to drive off. ‘But why leave you a letter? Why not just ask?’
Lottie shrugged. ‘Nan knew full well that if she asked me face to face I’d tell her to bog off.’
‘And stomp off out of the room,’ he said teasingly.
She turned to him and widened her eyes in fake surprise. ‘I don’t do that.’
‘Yes, you do.’ He smiled. ‘But it’s fine, I don’t mind. I just don’t understand what you’re afraid of.’
Lottie opened her Easter egg and broke off a piece of chocolate, waving it in the air as she spoke. ‘Oh, I don’t know, making a fool of myself in front of the entire town, letting Nan down, everyone laughing at me.’
‘No one would laugh at you, Lottie.’
‘Despite what Nan thinks—’ Lottie felt her heart twinge, the words catching in her throat. ‘What Nan thought, I quite like my life.’
Sid looked at her sceptically. ‘You like
