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СКАЧАТЬ a lot about the cinema on the Surrey Quays website. There’s a whole thread with loads of pictures.’ Nicole flicked into her phone and showed a few of them to her mother.

      ‘Obviously I was born in the mid-sixties so I don’t remember it ever being called The Kursaal,’ Susan said, ‘but I do remember the place from the seventies on. There was this terrible orange and purple wallpaper in the foyer. You can see it there—just be thankful the photo’s black and white.’ She smiled. ‘I remember queuing with my mum and my friends to see Disney films, and everyone being excited about Grease—we were all in love with John Travolta and wanted to look like Sandy and be one of the Pink Ladies. And I remember trying to sneak my friends into Saturday Night Fever when we were all too young to get in, and Brian spotting us and marching us into his office, where he yelled at us and said we could lose him his cinema licence.’

      ‘So there were some good times?’ Nicole asked.

      ‘There are always good times, if you look for them,’ Susan said.

      ‘I remember you taking me to the cinema when I was little,’ Nicole said. ‘Never to the Electric Palace, though.’

      ‘No, never to the Electric Palace,’ Susan said quietly. ‘I nearly did—but if Brian and Patsy weren’t going to be swayed by the photographs I sent of you on every birthday and Christmas, they probably weren’t going to be nice to you if they met you, and I wasn’t going to risk them making you cry.’

      ‘Mum, that’s so sad.’

      ‘Hey. You have the best godparents ever. And we’ve got each other. We didn’t need them. We’re doing just fine, kiddo. And life is too short not to be happy.’ Susan put her arm around her.

      ‘I’m fine with my life as it is,’ Nicole said.

      Susan’s expression said very firmly, Like hell you are. But she said, ‘You know, it doesn’t have to be a cinema.’

      ‘What doesn’t?’

      ‘The Electric Palace. It says here on that website that it was a ballroom and an ice rink when it was first built—and you could redevelop it for the twenty-first century.’

      ‘What, turn it back into a ballroom and an ice rink?’

      ‘No. When you were younger, you always liked craft stuff. You could turn it into a craft centre. It would do well around here—people wanting to chill out after work.’ Susan gave her a level look. ‘People like you who spend too many hours behind a corporate desk and need to do something to help them relax. Look how popular those adult colouring books are—and craft things are even better when they’re part of a group thing.’

      ‘A craft centre.’ How many years was it since Nicole had painted anything, or sewn anything? She missed how much she enjoyed being creative, but she never had the time.

      ‘And a café. Or maybe you could try making the old cinema a going concern,’ Susan suggested. ‘You’re used to putting in long hours, but at least this time it’d be for you instead of giving up your whole life to a job you hate.’

      Nicole almost said, ‘That’s what Clarence suggested,’ but stopped herself in time. She didn’t want her mother knowing that she’d shared that much with him. It would give Susan completely the wrong idea. Nicole wasn’t romantically involved with Clarence and didn’t intend to be. She wasn’t going to be romantically involved with anyone, ever again.

      ‘Think about it,’ Susan said. ‘Isn’t it time you found something that made you happy?’

      ‘I’m perfectly happy in my job,’ Nicole lied.

      ‘No, you’re not. You hate it, but it makes you financially secure so you’ll put up with it—and I know that’s my fault because we were so poor when you were little.’

      Nicole reached over the table and hugged her. ‘Mum, I never felt deprived when I was growing up. You were working three jobs to keep the rent paid and put food on the table, but you always had time for me. Time to give me a cuddle and tell me stories and do a colouring book with me.’

      ‘But you’re worried about being poor again. That’s why you stick it out.’

      ‘Not so much poor as vulnerable,’ Nicole corrected softly. ‘My job gives me freedom from that because I don’t have to worry if I’m going to be able to pay my mortgage at the end of the month—and that’s a good thing. Having a good salary means I have choices. I’m not backed into a corner because of financial constraints.’

      ‘But the hours you put in don’t leave you time for anything else. You don’t do anything for you—and maybe that’s what the Electric Palace can do for you.’

      Nicole doubted that very much, but wanted to avoid a row. ‘Maybe.’

      ‘Did the solicitor give you the keys?’

      Nicole nodded. ‘Shall we go and look at it, then have coffee and pudding back at my place?’

      ‘Great idea,’ Susan said.

      The place was boarded up; all they could see of the building was the semi-circle on the top of the façade at the front and the pillars on either side of the front door. Nicole wasn’t that surprised when the lights didn’t work—the electricity supply had probably been switched off—but she kept a mini torch on her key-ring, and the beam was bright enough to show them the inside of the building.

      Susan sniffed. ‘Musty. But no damp, hopefully.’

      ‘What’s that other smell?’ Nicole asked, noting the unpleasant acridness.

      ‘I think it might be mice.’

      Susan’s suspicions were confirmed when they went into the auditorium and saw how many of the plush seats looked nibbled. Those that had escaped the mice’s teeth were worn threadbare in places.

      ‘I can see why that article called it a flea-pit,’ Nicole said with a shudder. ‘This is awful, Mum.’

      ‘You just need the pest control people in for the mice, then do a bit of scrubbing,’ Susan said.

      But when they came out of the auditorium and back into the foyer, Nicole flashed the torch around and saw the stained glass. ‘Oh, Mum, that’s gorgeous. And the wood on the bar—it’s pitted in places, but I bet a carpenter could sort that out. I can just see this bar restored to its Edwardian Art Deco glory.’

      ‘Back in its earliest days?’ Susan asked.

      ‘Maybe. And look at this staircase.’ Nicole shone the torch on the sweeping wrought-iron staircase that led up to the first floor. ‘I can imagine movie stars sashaying down this in high heels and gorgeous dresses. Or glamorous ballroom dancers.’

      ‘We never really used the upper floor. There was always a rope across the stairs,’ Susan said.

      ‘So what’s upstairs?’

      Susan shrugged. ‘Brian’s office was there. As for the rest of it… Storage space, I think.’

      But when they went to look, they discovered that the large upstairs room had gorgeous parquet flooring, and a ceiling СКАЧАТЬ