Matty Dove had 18 months to try and find a buyer for her late grandmother's lighthouse. A buyer who, she hoped, would not only buy the lighthouse, but love the village so much that they would invest time and money into saving the community. In 18 mo...
Gail Hirst answered the door before Bill even had a chance to knock.
"Bill, Matty. Please come in."
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Matty looked at Bill.
"Do we have the right room?"
"I don't know."
Gail laughed slightly.
"I know this is not how you have seen me in the past, but this is the real me. Not the properly dressed woman that Simon always likes to present."
She was dressed in a pair of fashion jeans and a beige coloured loose sweater. She wore no makeup and her dark hair showed streaks of red through it.
She lit a cigarette and sat on a chair at the small table. In the middle of the table was a bottle of 21 year old Glenlivet scotch and three crystal glasses.
"Please sit," Gail motioned, as she began pouring drinks.
Bill closed the motel room door and sat with his wife, at the table.
Gail passed both of them drinks and raised her glass.
"To understanding," she smiled.
The three clinked glasses and drank their scotch. Gail immediately began pouring another drink.
"Who are you?" Matty joked.
"And what have you done with tight-ass Gail Hirst."
"This is me. The little ole gal from Whitecourt, Alberta. Simon does not like this side of me to be out in public."
Matty laughed.
"I could almost get to like this not so tight-assed version of you."
Bill wanted to get to business.
"Why are you here, Gail?"
Gail walked to the desk in the room, where a laptop and small printer were set up. She picked up the papers.
