The Vintage Cinema Club. Jane Linfoot
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and Luce had first met Dida at art college, when they were eighteen, and she was a thirty something, desperate to find some sanity after having her first baby. The friendship was cemented when Dida and Luce rocked up at the same ante-natal class, having Lolly and Ruby, who were sitting together on the counter now, fingers entwined, swinging their legs. Ruby caught Izzy’s eye as she gazed around, and her little wave made Izzy’s tummy turn over.
Ruby was so like Luce, all pale slender beauty, in her flowery shorts, snuggled in next to the vision of frills in pink fluo net that was Lolly, Dida’s daughter. Whereas Dida got the champagne flute, Lolly had exited the birth canal complete with diamanté tiara. Izzy knew without asking the battle that would have gone on at Alport Towers, Dida’s home, this morning, over Lolly’s insistence on day glow pink and orange glitter wellies.
Her friend was in full flow now. ‘We were the first vintage shop, and as others followed, Matlock has become the retro shopping destination in Derbyshire.’
Izzy and Luce exchanged indulgent smiles. Dida was extending the short and punchy she’d agreed on for her speech, but they had pulled off something spectacular here, and just for once Izzy was enjoying a few minutes of basking in the glory. After the way her dad had treated her mum when he left, all Izzy had wanted was a means to make her way in life, without having to rely on a partnership with a guy who might up and leave at any moment. What seemed at the beginning like a happy accident of a retro shop, had gone a long way to giving her that independence, and she had her wonderful friends Luce and Dida to thank for that.
‘So thanks to Byron from Corks, for the wonderful cocktails we love so much, Gigi at Amandine’s Patisserie for keeping us supplied with delicious tarts especially the blue berry ones, to Evan at Majestic Wine, please don’t count the Moet bottles…’
Izzy gave a wry grin, and noted that Aidie’s name didn’t appear anywhere on Dida’s ever growing list.
Dida bashed on. ‘…and huge hugs to my mum and dad, I am so, so, so grateful…’
Talk about out of control at the Oscars. Izzy knew Dida’s mum was a total nightmare. Dida was doing a Gwynnie here. It was time to cut to the cake.
Izzy put on a five hundred watt beam, and chimed in. ‘So, shall we raise our glasses, and do confectionary?’ She gave Dida’s hip a large nudge, and nodded in the direction of the glorious tower of cupcakes, decorated with roses and lace, in sludgy blues and pinks and creams.
Luce had Izzy’s back. ‘Great idea.’ She added with her own wide grin.
‘Okay, so to sum up…’ Dida took a deep breath, her voice wavering now. ‘Vintage at the Cinema represents three women – Izzy, Luce and I – and we have worked our butts off to create something truly unique, that surpasses all our hopes and dreams.’ Dida wrapped her arms around Luce and Izzy, and pulled them against her.
Tears welled up in Izzy’s eyes at that last bit, and despite her best attempts to control it, her bottom lip began to wobble, as all the love she felt for Luce and Dida burst up in her chest. She was only saved from full blown howling by an overpowering blast of Dida’s Diorissimo, and the pain in her shoulder, as Dida squeezed her tight enough for the linen of Dida’s jacket to graze her skin.
‘So let’s raise our glasses, to the very awesome Vintage at the…’
Dida held her glass high, but before she could say the final word, a loud mechanical sound reverberated through the shop.
A shadow flickered across Dida’s beatific smile. ‘What the hell is going on out there…? Can someone please tell whoever that is, this is not the time for hammer drills.’
Izzy, peering past the crowd, could make out a ladder propped up on the pavement beyond the shop doorway.
As the crew moved towards the door and peered out, Luce got there first. ‘What are those two huge for sale signs propped against the window for?’ Her brow creased into a worried frown.
Dida staggered down from her trunk, and elbowed her way out onto the pavement. Then she grabbed an umbrella from a flower pot, rapped hard on the ladder with the handle, and shouted to the man above. ‘Excuse me, what exactly do you think you’re doing?’
‘98 Derwent Street, Commercial Freehold For Sale.’ The man said, glowering down from ten feet up and sounding casually confident.
Dida’s jaw dropped, but she squared her shoulders, ignored the collective gasp behind her, and shouted up. ‘I’m sorry, there must be some mistake.’
Izzy’s heart plummeted. She knew Dida’s husband, Aidie, was ruthless, but surely he wouldn’t do this to them. Although on second thoughts, this stunt had Aidie written all over it. From his snarky comments whenever he was around, which happily wasn’t that often, he clearly resented Dida’s growing independence. His wife’s success was a direct threat to a control freak husband like Aidie, and selling the building was a fast forward way to wrestle back his power, simultaneously wiping the floor with all of them. And if he was hell bent on bursting Dida’s bubble, in the most spectacular and public way possible, his timing was impeccable.
‘Definitely no mistake.’ The workman up the ladder sounded very sure of himself. ‘Don’t blame me, I’m only doing my job.’ His shrug and weary sigh suggested this happened a lot, then his tone became conciliatory. ‘Best ring the agents love, they’ll clear it up for you.’
Izzy, feet welded to the pavement, by a mixture of shock, and panic watched Dida bristle. She hated being called ‘love’.
‘Eldon and Trellis. Right. I’ll do that now.’ Dida’s growl was ferocious. ‘I hope you realise you’re wasting your time up there, you’ll be back in half an hour to take it down.’
Fighting talk, and good on Dida for not taking it lying down, but Izzy, whose stomach was languishing somewhere at pavement level, wasn’t so sure.
Dida bustled back through the shop waving her mobile. ‘So sorry about this, carry on with the cupcakes. One minute, I’ll sort this out.’
Nice try, but nothing flattened bubbly faster than bad news. Realistically, this party was over.
Izzy, Luce and Dida threaded their way past the customers, as they discarded their plastic champagne flutes on the counter next to the untouched cupcake tower, and discretely began to disperse. Izzy’s heart was racing, and she wasn’t sure if her shaking knees were due to anger or pure fear. Dida might have pulled off an upbeat exit to the kitchen, but Izzy had caught the wild whites of her eyes as she passed. The gash of her red lipped grimace reminded Izzy of the face in Munch’s The Scream, and it was enough for Izzy to know that Vintage at the Cinema was in big trouble here. And that had to be awful news for all of them.
Wednesday Evening, 4th June
IZZY
A building site in Bakewell
The downside of upcycling
‘Hey, you! Get out of my skip.’
Izzy froze, rammed her shoulder against the rusty metal container side, and crouched lower, cringing as the male voice resonated above her head and echoed across the building site.
Damn it. She kicked herself for coming back for one last look, when she should have got away. In some ways this afternoon’s bombshell news that the cinema building was up for sale made it more important than ever for her to get her hands on stock. They weren’t going to give up, they were going to fight to survive, and tonight’s skip raid was a symbol of that determination. Ever since she, Dida and Luce had launched Vintage at the Cinema, they’d dreamed of a time when business would be booming, and it was ironic that now it was actually happening, it looked as if it might be snatched away.
Something about tonight’s desperation spun Izzy back to the time when