Minding Frankie - Maeve Binchy [34]
“Very clever,” Lisa said through her teeth. Miranda, who looked slim like a greyhound but who ate like a hungry horse, was sitting on the ground in her pencil-slim jeans, wolfing down pizza as if she had known no other food. Some of the men were people who shared Anton’s flat. The other girls were glamorous and suntanned. They looked as if they were auditioning for a musical.
None of them was broke, in debt, with nowhere to live and nowhere to work. Lisa wanted to run away and go and cry somewhere, big heaving sobs. But where could she go? She had nowhere, and this, after all, was where she wanted to be.
She slipped the smoked salmon and cream cheese into one of the fridges and came to join them.
“Anton has been singing your praises,” Miranda said when she looked up momentarily from the huge pizza she was devouring. “He says you are a genius.”
“That’s going a bit far.” Lisa smiled.
“No, it’s the truth,” Anton assured her. “I was telling them all about your ideas. They said I was very lucky to get you.”
These were the words she had wanted to hear for so long. Why did it not seem as real and wonderful as she had hoped?
Then he said, “Everyone is here to give some ideas about marketing, so let’s start straightaway. Lisa, you first …”
Lisa didn’t want to share her ideas with this cast. She didn’t want their approval or their dismissal.
“I’m last in—let’s hear what everyone else has to say.” She gave a huge smile at the group.
“Sly little fox,” Miranda whispered, but loudly enough to be heard.
Anton didn’t seem disturbed. “Right, Eddie, what do you think?” he began.
Eddie, a big bluff rugby player, was full of ideas, most of them useless. “You need to make this place a focus for the rugby set, somewhere people would lunch on the days of an International.”
“That’s about four days a year,” Lisa heard herself say.
“Well, yes, but you could host fund-raisers for various rugby clubs,” he said.
“Anton wants to make money, not give it away at this stage,” Lisa said. She knew she sounded like someone’s nanny or mother, but honestly …
A girl called April said that Anton could have wine appreciation classes there, followed by a dinner serving some of the most popular choices of the evening. It was so ludicrous as a moneymaker that Lisa hardly believed anyone would take it seriously, yet they were all eager and excited.
“Where’s the profit?” she asked icily.
“Well, the wine manufacturers would sponsor it,” April said, annoyed.
“Not until the place is up and running, they won’t,” Lisa said.
“Anton could have fashion shows here,” Miranda suggested.
Everyone looked at Lisa to see how she would knock this one down, but she was careful. She had been too snide already.
“That’s a good idea, Miranda. Have you any designers in mind?”
“No, but we could think up a few,” Miranda said.
“I think it would take from the meal itself,” Anton said.
“Yes, maybe you’re right.” Miranda didn’t care; she was there only for the laughs and the pizza anyway.
“What do you think, Lisa? Do you have a background in marketing and business as well as graphic art?”
“No, I don’t, April. In fact, I’ve just decided to do an evening course in management and marketing. The term starts next week, so at the moment all I have is my instinct.” Lisa even managed a smile.
“Which says …?” April was obviously keen.
“Just as Anton says, that the food is going to be extraordinary and everything else is second to that.” She had surprised herself with the announcement about the evening class. She’d had the vague notion that such a thing would be a good idea, but being challenged by April had made up her mind. She was going to do it. She’d show them.
“You didn’t tell me you were going back to college,” Anton said when the others had all left. It had been touch and go as to whether April would ever leave, but somehow she realized that Lisa would outstay her and she did go grudgingly.
“Ah, there’s lots of things I don’t tell you, Anton,” she said, scooping the glutinous pizza and paper plates into a refuse bag.
“Not too many, I hope,” he said.