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Jessica scanned the waiting room from her chair that creaked. The scuffed magnolia walls were faded, which made the room feel even smaller. The carpets were frayed and there was a dark stain not far from her feet. It reminded her of her childhood. It had that same dilapidated and depressed feel and probably hadn’t changed much since. Council budgets obviously didn’t extend to upgrading the interior of the building very often.

Jessica’s eyes fell on Rosie across from her. Rosie was tapping her fingers against the side of her leg, looking towards the reception desk. Her shiny hair flowed down onto her chest and her fringe set off the rest of her face perfectly. She had on a stylish full-length green coat with a fabulous collar and long black boots with a sexy heel. She had excellent taste in clothes. Rosie had chatted to Des all the way here as Jessica had worked on her laptop. To say Des and Rosie got on like a house on fire would be an understatement. Jessica found that she enjoyed listening to their conversation. There was something soothing about Rosie’s voice.

She shook that thought from her mind and followed Rosie’s gaze towards the corridor, where a short man with ginger hair and freckles was walking towards them.

As soon as he spotted them, he stopped walking and sort of half bowed, as if they were royalty.

“Jessica and Rosie?” His voice went up at the end.

Jessica stood, somewhat towering above him in her high heels. “Yes. Jessica,” she tilted her head to her colleague, “Rosie. Patrick?”

“Yes, that is me.”

Jessica held out her hand. Patrick’s handshake was warm and sweaty. “Good to finally meet you.”

He nodded, turning redder by the second.

“Hello, the famous Patrick,” Rosie said, shaking his hand now. “It’s so great to meet you in person.” She paused for a moment. “I promise we don’t bite.” Rosie smiled warmly.

“Hah,” Patrick squeaked, looking like he might start hyperventilating. He took a breath while looking at the floor and cleared his throat. “Thanks very much for coming in today. Honestly, I can’t believe you guys wanted to take on the waterfront. It’s such a privilege to have you working on our little town.”

“The privilege is all ours,” Jessica said, meaning it.

Patrick looked between them, still looking like he couldn’t work out why they wanted this job. “It’s through here.”

In the surprisingly bright and spacious meeting room there were about a dozen people sat around the table. Introductions were made. The group was going to be the official steering committee for the project. As well as people from the local authority, there were people from local charities, local businesses, and the town’s residents’ association amongst others. Patrick, the town planning manager, seemed to be the most senior person from the local authority at the meeting. Jessica had expected his boss to be here, or even, the head of the whole council herself. The absence of a senior presence unsettled her. Were they committed to this? Did Patrick have their full backing?

Rosie connected Jessica’s laptop to their screen, nailing it like a pro.

“Well,” Patrick said, standing at the head of the table. He’d stopped blushing and his voice sounded clearer and calmer. “Today is a very special day because we are kicking off the waterfront redevelopment with top architects, JF Architecture, from London no less. They’re going to tell us all about how they are going to transform the waterfront space. I can’t wait to hear all about it. Without further ado, I’ll hand you over to JF Architecture.”

“Well, firstly, thank you for choosing us to work on this very important project,” Jessica said. “We’re delighted to be taking this on and very happy to be here and show you what we’re thinking,” she paused, squaring her shoulders. She clicked onto her first slide, feeling confident and excited about this. “At the core of our design concept, we want to reimagine the space and make it a healthier and happier place for people to both spend time in and move through. The aim is to create a space for local people to enjoy while honouring the town and its past. We take that aim very seriously; I can assure you.”

There was a short grunt from one of the more antagonistic-looking men. For some reason, there seemed to be a lot of them at the meeting.

Jessica continued, ignoring the obvious voice of dissent. “The next few slides are going to demonstrate our vision so you can see what we’re proposing. I’ll take questions at the end.” Their overall design flashed up on screen. She was proud of it. “In addition to the creation of a multi-purpose park, including a children’s play park and walled garden, we have designed a space for local businesses and community groups in the restoration yard near the original entrance to the site. The café will be a central feature of that space and will undoubtably bring more people to the area.” Jessica gave the nod to Rosie, who then got up and handed each person their design concept bounded up in a glossy document for them to peruse as she talked. Jessica guided them through the design. “The site sits south of the town so enjoys plenty of natural light with excellent views up and down the river. You’ll see the desire lines in the park are a continuation of the original walkways around the site. We’d like to reintroduce similar Victorian-style lampposts, for example. We want to work with what’s already there and make sure the space still feels like the old shipyards on one level. That’s a key theme of this whole concept, as I mentioned before: honouring the heritage of the space. For this, a maritime theme will be implemented throughout, and the crane will be made into a visitor attraction, with a new space created at the base where we can exhibit the history of the site and the town. Photographs, artifacts, a timeline. Bring it to life, as it were. So we highly recommend the crane is retained and we have grounds to believe that the visitor attraction will help bring some additional economic benefits to the area. And that is something we think we can help with. This town struggles because it hasn’t linked up with other areas in recent years and it’s isolated. We want to open it up and create transport links.” She clicked onto the next slide. “We picked up in the original tender the possibility for funding for a bridge across the water in future. We think that is an excellent idea and are also proposing that once the project is complete, in the second year, we build a bridge across the river and connect the town to further afield. With the inclusion of the bridge and the multi-mode transport links via cycle paths, this town will become outward looking once again.” Jessica paused, chin in the air, poised to make her final remark. “The full details can be found in the document you’ve been provided with. We hope this is what you were looking for. Are there any questions?”

Patrick was smiling so broadly it could have been his wedding day. The faces of the rest of group were mixed, some were smiling and nodding, while others were looking sceptical.

“Hi, thanks for that,” a man began talking. “I run a shop near the entrance to the site. What do you mean you want people to move through the area? Where do you expect them to go? Isn’t this just about putting in a park and some benches and making it look nice? Can’t we just make it look like less of an eyesore and be done with it? I’m sure the council has far more important things to spend its money on. Like schools.”

“I agree,” said someone else. A woman who seemed friendly enough. “I thought you were just going to pull down the old warehouses and build a café, maybe. What’s all this about desire lines? Sorry. I’m confused.”

The group of people staring at her around the table were entitled to their opinion. But it was criticism, nonetheless, even though she knew her design was what they needed. “Thank you for your comments. I’ll address each one in turn. The site is currently blocking access to different towns in the area. We recommend building a cycle path which connects to nearby cycle paths, so that the whole riverfront becomes a promenade and allows access to other areas without needing a car. Opening it up will allow more people more access to commute to different jobs and opportunities. They also might want some exercise and to enjoy being by the river, which is good for health and wellbeing. We know this is a problem for the town. I think we need to be a lot more ambitious than just a park and some benches and a café. The walled garden can be a space for wellbeing and to learn about plants and flowers, taking them towards the river as they flow through the park. The restoration yard will include a space for healthy food outlets and wellness studios for community groups. We’ll install a children’s adventure play park in the north-east quadrant, which will bring in the families. Desire lines are the natural routes people take to get from one place to another. It will no longer look like an eyesore; I can assure you.” Jessica held firm in her answers. Why was this such a hard sell?

Rosie wasn’t making eye contact with anyone and seemed to be shrinking in on herself as the air of disagreement filled the room.

Patrick’s eyes darted around from person to person as if his dream was being pulled away from him.

Another man spoke this time. “That’s all very well and good about making it look nice. But we need to think about jobs in the area. In my role at the local authority, we have targets to meet around increasing the social-economic situation. I think the space should be for a new shopping centre. Tear down the old one, build a new one by the river. Put a huge car park next to it. Now that will generate the type of economic boost this town needs.”

“I totally agree,” the same woman from before said. “I don’t think anyone’s going to want to spend much time in the park, let alone cycle up and down the waterfront.”

Had they not listened to a word she’d said? “Many places benefit from this type of upgrade.”

“Upgrade?” The woman, scoffed. “There’s nothing wrong with this town. We don’t need to become something we’re not.”

Jessica ignored the comment.

The economic boost guy piped up again. “How can we afford to build a bridge when unemployment is so high?”

“The priority will be the site. The bridge hasn’t been decided upon yet. We really want to hear from the town’s residents in how all this is shaped. We’ll be conducting an engagement session in the town hall tonight and sending out a survey soon.”

“There’s a lot of interest in tonight’s event. Interest and excitement at the waterfront finally getting going. I’m looking forward to it.” This time, a kindly looking woman spoke. Her name was Mavis, and she was from the town’s residents’ association. Her comment was supportive, which was a relief.

Economics guy spoke. Again. “Our MP still wants to turn the full space into luxury waterfront flats. I don’t think he’s going to like any of this at all. As a councillor as well as an MP, we have to take his views on board.”

“He doesn’t have the final say on this,” Patrick interjected, finally.

“Well, who does? You?”

Patrick took a deep breath. “The local authority decides on spending based on the wants and needs of the local population. The government has given us this budget to use as we see fit. Mary Bardour, as chief executive of the council, will sign off on the design concept for the site based on consensus, but this project is with me and my team to actually get done and she has signed off on JF Architecture taking the contract already. She wants us to be ambitious. There have been decades of disagreements like this. We need to move forward. It’s taken us so long to get to this point. This build has been approved and JF Architecture is the best company to do it. If this is their vision, then I think we should trust them on it. I for one absolutely love what they have put forward to us today.”

“But the detail matters here, Patrick,” one of the older men said. “How much is this going to cost, for instance.”

“We can get this done within the budget,” Jessica said. “It’s all been costed up, everything except the bridge.”

Rosie sat forward, looking fearful, but as if she was about to say something.

Further disagreement ensued among the group. Jessica wasn’t going to get any more involved in this nonsense and she wasn’t going to budge too much on her overall vision. They either wanted their creative and professional services or they didn’t. She hadn’t had to fight this hard for her design for a project in years. And she’d put everything into this design. She always did. The fact that her hometown, of all places, was the one to make her feel like she’d missed the mark cut very deep. This was one of the reasons she left this town in the first place. People were never on her wavelength. No one seemed to want to broaden their horizons. It had been so frustrating back then, and it still was.

She remained silent.

Rosie cleared her throat as soon as an opening allowed. She had been far too quiet the whole meeting. “Okay, great. Thank you so much for your feedback. We will take on board everything you have said and see if we can make some alterations to the design. I’m hearing a lot of commonalities in what you’re saying, which is good. There might be some things we can negotiate on.”

No there fucking would not be.

Rosie continued. “We’ll also get a chance to hear from the local community tonight. Their take on this will be vital, too.”

“Yes. It will,” one of them said.

Jessica seethed internally. Rosie was pandering to them. Jessica never did that. But she couldn’t deny the fact that it diffused the tension. The group seemed to appreciate Rosie’s concessions.

“Perhaps a space for cafés and community groups would be quite good,” said the woman who felt the town didn’t need an upgrade.

“If we do have cycle paths,” the man with the shop outside spoke up, “they will need to be properly signposted.”

Rosie was winning them over.

The rest of the meeting went by in a blur of conversations that went around in circles and people being more open to the design presented. The change in the group was marked.

Patrick saw them out once the meeting was over. “Sorry about that. I think what you showed us today is exactly what we need, and I love it. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Jessica said, sceptical that this project was ever going to materialise.

“Some of them have no idea what they’re talking about, but we need them on board if we want to get this done.”

“They’ll come around,” Rosie said. “Maybe they just needed to get that off their chest and once they have some time to think about what we suggested, they’ll see the good in it.”

Jessica scoffed, under her breath.

Patrick grimaced. “I hope so.”

“We’re going to get set up at the town hall. Will we see you there, Patrick?” Rosie said.

“I wouldn’t miss it. Well, thanks for coming in and talking to us. I’ll see you both later.”

Des was waiting for them outside the car. The sight of him was comforting. A reminder of who she was and a link to her actual life in London.

“Rosie,” Des said, opening the door for her. “Jessica,” he added, as she let herself in the other side.

She took what felt like her first deep breath since the barrage of complaints started after her presentation, now that she was back in her safe place. She took a piece of shortbread from the Tupperware box full of treats Des had offered them and chewed. The sugar made her feel somewhat renewed, but no less overwhelmed.

Rosie was sitting rigidly and looking pale.

One thing was clear. Jessica did not want to go to the public engagement session this evening after that shit show of a meeting. Her head was spinning. Just being here was triggering. She couldn’t bear to hear any further negativity about her ideas, especially from people who might know her from her childhood.

She wasn’t ready for it.

Rosie could handle tonight on her own. She would be able to sell the design to them and take any suggestions. Jessica was certain of it. Tara and Tom would help too.

“I have to head back. I’m sorry. Are you okay to do this on your own?”

“You are?” Rosie looked at her, confused.

“Yes.” She spoke towards Des in the driver’s seat. “Can you take me to the train station, please?”

He turned his large frame towards her. “Sure thing.”

She let Des know what the plan was: that she would get the train home, and he would take Rosie to and from the engagement session. He agreed again, taking it all in his stride.

“Des will look after you,” Jessica said, turning towards her. “Thank you for smoothing things over in there. What you said helped.”

Rosie glanced at her. “No problem.”

“I had one observation though, if I may share that with you?”

“Yes.”

“In high-conflict meetings like that, it’s better to hold your ground more when it comes to the design. You made it sound like we would scrap the whole thing and start again, which we will not be doing. We are a team, and I need you to follow my lead.”

A flicker of confusion came over Rosie’s face. “Okay. I understand,” Rosie said.

Jessica hated having to give this kind of feedback, but she needed to know she could rely on Rosie in moments like that.

Des drove them towards the train station through streets Jessica knew on a cellular level. It was strange being here with Rosie, a colleague from her new life, in the town that she grew up in.

“Can I ask one thing though?” Rosie said, looking at her.

“Sure.”

“You said yourself that I helped smooth things over. Don’t you think that the meeting was bombing, and we had to do something? At least we got to leave on a somewhat positive and cordial note. I felt like I salvaged the situation.”

“You did help. But it’s a delicate thing at the moment. These stakeholders. The design. All I’m saying is that you have to show confidence in the design throughout. Don’t show any hesitation or weakness because it will only cause your client to doubt that you, the architect they have hired to provide them with something they need, know what you’re doing.”

“Okay.”

Jessica wanted to bolster Rosie for tonight or something, which was ridiculous. Rosie was having such a strange effect on her. “Good luck for tonight. Remember, listen to what they have to say, see if there’s anything useful, and hold firm in the design we’ve put forward. You’ve got this, Rosie.”

Rosie softened.

Des pulled up at the drop-off bay outside the train station. It hadn’t changed in all these years. This was the very train station her adult life had begun at. She’d boarded a train for university and hardly looked back. She still had the same navy-blue backpack in her wardrobe, hidden away at the back somewhere.

As she got out of the car, however, she got the distinct feeling she was running away again. But she had no choice. She simply couldn’t face it tonight.