Page 52 of Kiss Me at Christmas
“It isn’t your fault. I am learning that is often the way with landlords who own multiple properties: they’re quick to buy the buildings up at auction but slow to maintain them on a day-to-day basis.”
“Well, one thing you can be sure of, the team renovating the theater is excellent and very supportive of us being there. I’m sure they’ll welcome you too.” She was thinking of Ken’s bonhomie, how it infused every space he inhabited.
“You are a lifesaver,” Hesther enthused.
Harriet laughed. “Hardly. Can I ask, who pointed you in my direction?”
“A solicitor. Mr. Knight. I emailed his law firm to ask if we had any rights with regard to community areas. Unfortunately, we don’t, no surprise there. But he very kindly wrote back to me and told me to come and find you. He said if anyone would help me, you would.”
Harriet’s blood became honey in her veins. She wasn’t sure why, but knowing that hers was the name on the tip of James’s fingertips warmed something inside her.
“Funnily enough, Mr. Knight—James—was the man you met at the theater.”
“Really? Oh, I wish I’d known, I would have liked to thank him in person for his help.”
“Never mind, you’ll be seeing plenty of him, he’s at the theater almost as much as I am. I’m glad he pointed you in my direction. Come whichever days work best for you and your group. I’m only there in the evenings—aside from weekends—because I work during the day, but I’ll give you my number.” She scribbled it down on a napkin and handed it to Hesther. “And if you let me know when you’ll be coming, I can alert the maintenance teams.”
“Evenings would probably work for us too, most of us work during the day. I get the feeling you stay busy too; Mr. Knight outlined your project in his correspondence.”
Harriet laughed the maniacal laugh of overworked and underappreciated women everywhere.
“Rather too busy. But there’s nothing to be done about it. And it’s only another few weeks until the end of term, and then hopefully I won’t be quite so tired.”
Onlya few more weeks! Lawks! By the time this is over I’m going to need a cruise, shares in a sensory deprivation tank, and an intravenous ginseng drip to aid my recovery.
Hesther was looking at her with concern.
“Is your employer being supportive?”
This time her laugh was a harsh bark. The pile of paperwork on her desk plus the extra that Cornell had delegated her way felt like a mountain on the verge of an avalanche.
“No. They are not.”
“Could you ask to take some leave?”
She thought about her empty flat and a lonely Christmas.Schrödinger’s mum.At least when she was working, she had a purpose.
“To be honest, I don’t mind keeping busy at the moment. You know,” she said, stirring her coffee, “the maintenance team just put a brand-new stainless-steel kitchen in one of the restaurants at the theater. I’ll ask Ken, but I’m sure he wouldn’t mind if your group used the kitchens.”
“Who is Ken?”
“Oh, he’s the site foreman. He shouts a lot, but it’s all bluster. He’s sort of taken my students under his wing, a bit like a granddad who scolds them and looks out for them all at the same time.”
“I think we could all do with a Ken in our lives.” Hesther smiled.
“I think you’re right.”
“Thank you,” said Hesther, suddenly serious. “It will mean a lot to my group. It’s hard to start all over again in a new country, especially when English isn’t your first language and your accent sets you apart. A little kindness goes a long way.”
Harriet felt a twinge of guilt for complaining about being tired and lonely in her warm and safe life.
“I’ll be happy to help you all settle in.” A thought occurred to her. “If your group would like a project, we’re in need of hands to help us paint up some sets and backdrops. We have an excellent artist in our midst, young Leo—blue hair,” she added for clarification, “who has designed all the backdrops and is working on drawing them onto the backcloths. We could really use some extra hands to help us paint them…once I find some paint…and brushes. We’re what you might call a ragtagoutfit.” She covered her face with her hands and let out a tired huff. “What am I doing? I’ll be honest with you; I’m making it all up on the fly. To say I’m out of my depth would be an understatement.”
Hesther gave her a knowing look. “I’d never started a community group before this one. I’m a receptionist at a dental surgery, not a social worker. But here I am. Some people follow a calling and some, like us, stumble into one. Consider us part of your team. Put us to work. It’ll be like the art therapy I’d love to provide if money weren’t an issue,” she said with a wry smile. “But I’m guessing you know all about that.”
Harriet nodded in sympathy. “Unfortunately, I do.”
Hesther clapped her hands together as though to dispel any gloom, a sunshiny expression on her face.
