Instead, he grinned around at the group in Hiawatha’s sitting room. (There was a much better turnout than there had been the previous Wednesday. The announcement of an ‘EGM’ prompted cheering hopes for some scandal or disaster.)
‘The fact is,’ said Kent Warboys, ‘that you are currently looking at the owner of Polly’s Cake Shop.’
The committee burst into spontaneous applause.
‘My lawyers completed the necessary formalities on Friday. I paid the asking price for the premises, though some of my commercial estate-agent advisers thought it was rather steep.’
So Josie Achter had got her pound of flesh, thought Jude; then had a momentary anxiety that the reference might be thought anti-Semitic. She reassured herself that it wasn’t, but reflected how cautious Josie’s hypersensitivity on the subject had made her.
‘But my concern,’ Kent Warboys continued, ‘has always been – even if it meant paying a bit over the odds – to secure the Polly’s Cake Shop premises for the community of Fethering. And that has now been achieved.
‘My plans for the development of the site – you know, for the affordable housing at the back – are still being finalized. Then they’ll have to go through the local planning process—’
‘Which can be a nightmare,’ interrupted Arnold Bloom, who knew about such matters (and also thought that Quintus Braithwaite and Kent Warboys had so far monopolized the evening’s proceedings to his disadvantage).
‘Yes, I agree it can be.’ Kent Warboys smiled knowingly. ‘But I do like to think I have a good track record with them … after the work I’ve done on the Smalting Lifeboat Centre and the Clincham Haymarket Gallery.’ Once again the names of these projects drew approving nods from the committee. If the Polly’s Cake Shop development matched the standards of those two environment-friendly schemes, no one would have any worries.
‘So I like to think I’ve built up a level of trust – even respect – with the local planning committees. They are aware of the architectural values that I hold dear. As I always say to them, “I’m a Warboy, not a Cowboy.”’ This was clearly a line he’d used on many occasions, but it still brought a friendly titter from the assembly. ‘So I’m optimistic about the response we’re likely to get from the planners. Though it’ll all take time, of course, I’m aware of that, I am confident that the outcome will be positive.’
‘But I think, Kent,’ said Quintus Braithwaite, fearing he was losing his central position in the evening’s proceedings, ‘that you have something even more important to announce to the committee.’
‘Yes, I was getting there.’ The architect spoke without reproof. If he was riled by the Commodore’s obsessive stage-managing of the evening, he didn’t let it show.
‘The main point is that since I am – or rather my company, Warboys Heritage Construction is – now the owner of Polly’s, I can decide what happens to the place in the immediate future – you know, before we get into the business of planning and structural work.
‘And what I would like to do is to move as quickly as possible to running Polly’s Cake Shop as a Community Project just in the way that this committee envisages!’
This was the big announcement of the evening and it was greeted with warm and sustained applause.
‘What you mean,’ asked Wendy Roote, who liked to have everything in her life clearly defined, ‘is that Josie Achter is no longer in charge of Polly’s Cake Shop but we are?’
‘That is exactly what I mean.’
‘And does Josie know about that?’
‘Yes. I’ve had a few meetings with her – and your Treasurer sat in on a couple of them.’ Alec Walters inclined his head to confirm this. ‘But Josie Achter seemed completely unconcerned about what happened to the café after she’d sold it.’
‘So how would the day-to-day running of the place work?’ Wendy persisted.
‘What I’m proposing in the short term,’ Kent Warboys replied, ‘is that the café will continue to be run by the existing staff, for whom I will pick up the tab, paying them exactly what Josie Achter did, until we’ve sorted out how it’s going to work with the community running it.’
‘But how do we know,’ said Arnold Bloom, ‘that you won’t find that running the place yourself is rather lucrative and you’ll want to keep on being in charge?’
‘I can assure you,’ said Kent Warboys evenly, still showing no signs of annoyance, ‘that amongst the many ambitions I have held at one time or another, running a café is not one of them. No, I’m just talking about the next few weeks, while you’re sorting out how the community organization of the place is going to work.’
‘Well, it’ll be done by volunteers,’ said Quintus Braithwaite, as though the answer was self-evident.
‘Right, if that’s the way it’s going to be done, fine.’
‘My wife Phoebe is highly skilled in organizing volunteers. While we were posted in Dar es Salaam, she established a wonderful organization to set up coffee mornings for the wives of local sailors. All done by volunteers.’
‘Excellent. I’m sure there are many people in Fethering whose talents we can call on to ensure the smooth running of the project. But it is going to take a few weeks to get the whole thing up and running.’
‘Not long, you know.’ The Commodore chuckled. ‘In the Navy we have a reputation for sorting things out quickly. We’ll have the volunteers’ rota set up in no time.’
‘Well, let’s see how that goes,’ said Kent Warboys. ‘You just keep me informed of your timescale. Fortunately we’re entering a time of the year when business at Polly’s slackens off, so we should be able to make the changes gradually.’
‘I think what we need to do,’ enthused Lesley Tarquin, ‘is to have a major relaunch when the café’s taken over by the community. That’s the kind of project the local press loves – ticks all the right boxes about sustainability, historical continuity and Big Society enterprise. We could get just mega-coverage for an event like that.’
‘Excellent idea,’ said Quintus Braithwaite, who was still not very good at concealing his attraction towards the youngest and most glamorous member of his committee. She was looking very good that day in a shocking pink top and silver leggings. In spite of her greyed hair, she still contrived to make all the other women present look frumpy.
‘I was thinking it might be good to have the launch just before Christmas,’ said Lesley. ‘I’ve done some market research with local traders and they say the Parade gets busy round then. Be a good time to stage a massive media blitz.’
‘Good thinking,’ said the Commodore. ‘We’ll discuss the fine-tuning at the next meeting.’
‘Could I just ask one thing?’ said Jude, ‘Is the plan for Polly’s, once it becomes a Community Project, to have the entire business run by volunteers?’
‘Why shouldn’t it be?’ asked the Commodore.
‘Well, I’d have thought there might be an argument for employing a paid manager to keep an eye on—’
‘Nonsense! We won’t need anyone like that.’ Quintus Braithwaite was beginning to sound distinctly testy.
‘Also,’ asked Flora Claire, ‘how soon should we start exploring the other uses we’re going to put the café to? Can we do that straight away – you know, developing a Mindfulness Centre and—?’
‘There will not be any bloody Mindfulness Centre!’ came the even testier reply.
‘And will Polly’s have to close down for a while?’ asked Wendy Roote. ‘You know, for refurbishment?’
Kent Warboys fielded that one. ‘I had thought of that possibility. And as a gesture of goodwill, and because I believe strongly in helping start-ups, my company is prepared to put up twenty grand for any basic refurbishment that’s required, so that doesn’t have to come out of the SPCS Action Committee budget.’