Chapter 27

Chains and padlocks dangle loose from double-doors standing wide. The space inside is dim,
beckoning us inside.

We enter, stepping between cones of bird droppings into a single open space, taking up what looks like
the whole of the ground floor. Daylight filters through clouded glass and cobwebs from the far side.
Pigeons scatter as we enter then resettle, cooing protest at our invasion of their private space. Their
calls echo with our footsteps as, without speaking a word, we cross the open floor to the murky
windows.

A quick search through my bag produces a tissue, and I swipe over dust to clear a small viewing hole
through the grime, just big enough to peer out and over the river.

“We can do better than that,” comes Ryan’s voice from a few feet away.

He’s standing by another set of steel double-doors. Again, a chain dangles free from between the
handles and he lifts a locking bar, then swings the doors open. Pale sunlight spills inside, and dust
motes sparkle brilliantly in the beams casting to the concrete floor.

He wriggles fingers at me. “Together.”

Hand in hand, we step outside to find ourselves on a stone-flagged walkway, edging the water, perhaps
twenty feet wide, stretching to the far end of the building one way and to the wheelhouse the other.

Beyond the edge, the weir stretches over the river, curving across the water in a smooth arc, a good
fifty feet across from one bank to the other. Above the weir, the water is a smooth green pool. Then, in
a fall of ten feet of so, it froths and rushes, boiling down to the next level before continuing its journey to
the sea.

My heart pounds. “This place must be worth a fortune. How could we possibly afford it?”



Ryan heaves in air. “It’s only worth a fortune if someone is willing to put in the work. And…” He swipes
a hand through his hair… “I don’t think Richard would have brought us here if he thought it was out of
our reach.”

Footsteps clip behind us: James and Richard, talking quietly as they walk around from the side. James
aims a long arm upwards towards some feature, I think, measuring a wall by eye.

“How are you doing?” he asks as they join us.

“What do think?” says Ryan. “Could it be rescued?”

James seems quite relaxed. “Oh, yes. The walls are sound. There’s no sign of subsidence I can see.”
His eye roams upwards to the squabbling pigeons. “I imagine you’d need new timbers throughout and
almost certainly a new roof. And you’d want to have the ground checked over for pollutants. I don’t
know off-hand what contamination you might have from the paper industry, but we can find out easily
enough. The question is…” He inhales… “How big a project are you willing to take on?”

His eye travels to me… “And if you have to live here while the work’s on-going, are you willing to rough
it for a while?”

Ryan nods slowly, then turns to me too. “Kirstie, what do you think? Really? Would you be willing to live
on what was effectively a building site for a while? And it could be a while. Certainly, several months.
Probably longer. This would be a long-term undertaking. It wouldn’t happen overnight.”

“Yes! I’d do it.” I whirl on the spot, hands outstretched. “I love it. I love everything about it.”

Ryan hooks an arm into mine, then nods to the two men. Excitement ripples behind his voice, blending
into apology. “I don’t mean to be rude, but please excuse us for a few minutes. Kirstie and I need to
talk.”



Richard’s lips twitch. “Of course.”

Ryan tugs me away from the others, then takes me by the shoulders, pulling me around to face him.
“Kirstie, no-one’s going to hold you to this at this stage, but are you sure? Really? Are you sure? We’d
be almost camping here at first. If we sign up to buy this place, we’ll not be able to afford to waste
money on rent for somewhere else. We’ll have to live here. Like this. And for quite a long time.”

I set a hand on his, squeezing. “Ryan, I’d stay here in a tent, living on jam sandwiches and weak tea if
it meant we could buy the place.”

His smile takes his whole face. He kisses my forehead. “That’s my girl.”

I look up. “Let’s go to the top. I want to see what’s around us.”

*****

Four floors up, we stand together by an old loading bay. In a house, this might be called a balcony.
Here, iron railings are all that stand between us and a sixty-foot drop.

Ryan pokes at the rusty bars. “I think we’ll improve on these.”

“I’m sure we will. But look at the view.”

As far as the eye can see, we look over green fields and treetops, iced silver. One way, the river
continues its path to the city and beyond that, to the sea. The other, the land rises inexorably towards
the mountain.

“You’re really sure?” says Ryan.

“I’m sure.”

“Fine. Let’s go talk money.”



*****

We rejoin James and Richard. Both men wait, quiet, but their eyes questioning.

“So, who’s the owner?” begins Ryan. “And how much do they want for it? You said it’s not actually up
for sale.”

Richard’s eyes twinkle and the obvious strikes me. “It’s yours, isn’t it?” I say. “You own it?”

He chuckles. “Not exactly. But I have been offered the property. The owner is an old friend of mine.
Emphasis on old. He’s retired and wants to liquidate his assets. I rather think he sees his remaining
time being spent on a beach somewhere rather warmer than this. He asked me if I was interested but I
don’t have an immediate use for such a place. However…” He blows air. “If you two are interested, I’m
happy to act as intermediary for you.”

“Could you call him, please. Find out what price he’s asking.”

Richard holds up his mobile. “Already done. He said he’d get back to me within the hour.”

*****

Back at the Threesome’s home, Michael serves up coffee and cake in the lounge then piles logs onto
the fire.

Richard’s phone buzzes. He holds up a forefinger and everyone falls silent.

“Yes? Ah, Brian, thank you for getting back so quickly…” His eyes pass to mine. “Yes, I have them with
me… Yes? As per the original asking price? Ah… I understand. Yes, I’ll get back to you.”

He snaps the lid down on his mobile. “That was my old friend, the owner of the mill. He is hesitating
because his lawyer has been approached by a third party who has offered him a better price.”



The cake congeals in my mouth. Ryan sags. “Oh… That’s that then. We can’t get into a bidding war. As
it is, we’d be way out on a limb financially…”

Richard Harrumphs, then sniffs. “Not necessarily. There’s more to any offer than the price.”

I swallow hard, trying to free my mouth of cake. “I’m not with you. What else is there?”

“Oh…” Richard lifts arms, opens his palms… “Intended end-use. Reputation of the buyer. Proof of
funds…”

My mind whizzes in all directions. “I’m sorry. I didn’t understand any of that.”

Richard perches on the end of the couch arm. “As I mentioned, Brian is an old friend of mine. If he
genuinely didn’t care what happened to the site, he could have sold the mill long ago…

“But he does care. He doesn’t want to see either site or area abused. He prefers not to see the building
torn down and replaced by ten storeys of boxy white apartments. He does not want to see the site
levelled for a shopping centre and the wildlife ousted…”

He takes a mouthful of coffee, apparently considering his words. “And… from the financial angle, he
needs proof that any offer is both genuine and realistic: that the buyer can actually back up their offer
with either funds in the bank or a mortgage offer from a reputable source…”

He opens his mouth to continue, but his phone rings again. He checks the screen then flashes brows at
me and raises a finger to his lips. “Yes, what did he say? Right… Okay, that’s not a problem… Yes?
When? Alright, I’ll get back to you.”

He taps off, tapping a forefinger to his chin. Then, jerking his head at the door, “James, could I have a
word please.”

James inclines his head, brow wrinkling, but accompanies him out.



My eyes meet with Ryan’s, but the moment is broken by Michael standing from his seat. “Eggnog!” he
announces. “And would you like some more cake? Can’t have Christmas without plenty of both of
those.” As he exits, the door swings wide behind him and I see Richard and James, their heads close,
talking and nodding.

*****


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