Minding Frankie by Maeve Binchy Page B

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.
    “No, not
too
many,” Lisa agreed. This was the way it had to be played. She knew that now.
    She signed on for the business diploma the next day. They were very helpful in the college and she gave them a check that was the very last of her savings.
    “How will you support yourself?” the tutor asked her.
    “It will be hard, but I’ll manage,” she said with a bright smile. “I have one client already, so that’s a start.”
    “Good. That will keep you solvent,” the tutor said, pleased.
    Lisa wondered what he would say if he knew that the one client wasn’t going to pay a cent for the job she was doing and that he was costing her a fortune because he liked a woman to smell of expensive perfume and have lacy underwear, but because he was putting everything he had into the business he was unable to buy her any of these things.
    At her first lecture, she sat beside a quiet man called Noel Lynch, who seemed very worried about it all.
    “Do you think it will help us, all this?” he asked her.
    “God, I don’t know,” Lisa said. “You always hear successful people saying that qualifications don’t matter, but I think they do because they give you confidence.”
    “Yes. I know. That’s why I’m doing it too. But my cousin is paying my fees and I wouldn’t want her to think it was a waste.…”
    He was a gentle sort of fellow. Not smart and lively and vibrant like Anton’s friends, but restful.
    “Will we go and have a drink afterwards?” she asked him.
    “No, if you don’t mind. I’m actually a recovering alcoholic and I don’t find myself at ease in a pub,” he said.
    “Well, coffee then?” Lisa said.
    “I’d like that,” Noel said with a smile.
    Lisa went back to the bleak terraced house that she had called home for so long.
Why
was Anton so against her moving into his premises? It made absolute sense for her to be there, and once settled she could persuade him to give up his ludicrous bachelor existence with the others. After all, they were still on the prowl, while he had everything sorted: his own restaurant, his own girlfriend. What
was
the point in keeping up the charade of all being