Claiming Victory: A Romantic Comedy

by Beverley Watts

  My face flames uncontrollably as I struggle to come up with some kind of explanation for my outburst. But, come on, who the hell can come up with an instantaneous reason for shouting out ‘lust’ to an empty room…?

  Not me that’s for sure. ‘Do you want some tea?’ is all I manage to finally stammer.

  ‘Thought you’d never ask,’ he responds with a smile, walking round the table towards me. Could be he hears the word lust regularly…

  ‘I love your costume,’ I say sincerely, letting Dotty back in, completely relieved to change the subject. ‘You look like Mark Darcy.’

  ‘Wash your mouth out with soap,’ he says with a wink, grabbing a biscuit off the worktop. ‘Pride and Prejudice has got nothing on The Bridegroom. Are these ginger nuts?’

  ‘Digestives,’ I correct, ‘And totally guaranteed to get crumbs all over your splendid tailcoat.’

  ‘Give me the tea then woman, I’ll just have to dunk.’

  I hand him a mug. ‘Careful,’ I admonish lightly, ‘Takes a much lighter flick of the wrist to dip a digestive successfully.’

  Taking the mug from me, he deftly dunks the biscuit in and out of the tea and pops it into his mouth. I watch him with my mouth slightly open, totally spellbound.

  Definitely lust…

  ‘Practice makes perfect,’ he grins, helping himself to another one.

  ‘Are you allowed to eat anything while you’re dressed up like a dog’s dinner?’ I ask, genuinely interested. ‘Mmm,’ he affirms round a mouthful of biscuit, ‘as long as I keep the costume clean. Of course, if I spill something down it, I am assured of a long and horribly painful death. Why? Are you offering to cook me lunch?’

  ‘Absolutely not,’ I respond with a laugh. ‘I’m sure you’ll be partaking of a veritable banquet in that swanky trailer of yours. And anyway, I’m off to sort out your decorating.’

  Noah opens his mouth to respond but is interrupted as a technician pops his head around the door. ‘Mr. Westbrook, we’re ready for you now,’ he says with a slight apology in his voice.

  ‘I’ll be right there.’ Noah answers the technician without turning. ‘No rest for the wicked,’ he sighs, quickly swallowing the rest of the tea and giving his last piece of biscuit to the furry dustbin at his feet. Then, giving me a small bow, he hands me the empty mug. ‘Thank you sweet lady for the delightful beverage. And now I must bid you adieu as I go to earn an honest crust.’

  I laugh as I watch him go.

  I was wrong. Unfortunately, I really think it might be love…

  ~*~

  It’s five thirty pm and I’ve had enough. I’ve spent most of the day tying up all the loose ends of my other projects and have managed to arrange to meet with the architect and builder outside Noah’s house tomorrow. I glance out of the small window at the back. The weather has been warm and sunny, in complete contrast to yesterday, and I really hope it continues tomorrow as we tramp around Noah’s back garden.

  All in all it’s been a successful day – despite the efforts of my two best friends. Freddy must have popped in at least ten times on the off chance that Noah might be here, and Kit simply spent the whole day sighing and giggling.

  Grabbing my bag and putting Dotty’s leash on, I walk out into the gallery where Kit is just closing up. She and Freddy are heading straight to the Cherub to inform to the pub’s suitably impressed regulars that they now include Noah Westbrook in their circle of friends.

  I said I’d pass…

  As I walk onto the Higher Ferry, I hope against hope that Noah is still at the house. I have no idea what time they intend to finish filming today, but as long as I keep Dotty quiet and creep up the very edge of the garden, I reckon I won’t be interrupting anything. From there, I can sneak into the kitchen.

  Of course I’m telling myself that the reason I want to see Noah is to update him about my progress – yeah right…

  The garden is deserted, all bar a lone camera man fiddling about with the lights as well as a couple of extras (well I haven’t seen them before anyway) sneaking a crafty cigarette by the side of Noah’s trailer, which seems empty, although the lights are on. After warning Dotty to be quiet, I let myself into the kitchen, only to come face to face with what appears to be the whole cast, being royally entertained by my father. Shit…

  ‘Here she is,’ booms my father in his best Admiral Shackleford voice (oh God, he’s playing to the crowd, double shit…) ‘The light of my life. My most treasured possession.’ (Has he been drinking?)

  Determined to nip my father’s eulogizing right in the bud, I put Dotty down and ask only half jokingly, ‘Haven’t you lot got a movie to make?’

  Turns out they’re waiting for the light to change outside. Seems as if this whole filming lark involves an awful lot of waiting about. I look around for Noah and finally spot him leaning against a cupboard in the corner with his hand over one ear, obviously trying to have a conversation on his phone.

  He is now dressed in the Regency gentleman’s equivalent of evening attire and I can’t help but stare. The whole ensemble fits him like a glove, right down to the skin-tight pants that leave absolutely nothing to the imagination. I swallow and wonder if I’m the only woman here who’s suddenly finding it slightly difficult to breathe…

  I glance back towards my father and note with relief that I’m no longer the centre of attention. Abandoning my defensive position at the door, I make my way towards Noah, intending to apprise him of today’s progress. Six feet away I stop and hover self consciously, waiting for him to finish on the phone. Silently berating myself for not remaining by the door until he finished, I occupy myself by bending down to pick up Dotty. Not one for large crowds, she’s been plastered to my side ever since we came into the kitchen – even the sight of Noah fails to elicit so much as the tiniest bark. Burying my head in her soft fur, I wonder where Pickles is. He’s definitely not one for large crowds either.

  Luckily, before I resort to dusting the dresser, Noah finishes his call and, turning towards me, offers a tired smile. ‘Long day?’ I ask sympathetically. He nods in response and steps closer to give Dotty a quick fuss. ‘And it’s not over yet. We’re gonna be filming for most of the night I think. Hope your bedroom’s not on the back.’ I grimace in answer. ‘Yep, directly over the patio. Still, I can always go stop over at Kit’s.’ I shrug my shoulders to indicate it’s not a problem, then, looking round at the crowd loitering around the kitchen, I change the subject. ‘How are you all going to eat?’

  ‘The hotel’s providing a buffet supper.’ He glances down at his watch. ‘Should be about sevenish.’ I breathe a sigh of relief. My culinary skills would definitely not stretch to catering for this many people and besides, unless Dad’s been shopping (and there’s more chance of him going bungee jumping), we’ve only got a couple of pizzas in the fridge. I wonder if I can snatch a couple of picky bits from their buffet. Don’t think I can actually get to the oven anyway.

  Noah interrupts my musing, ‘So, what progress have you made today. I’m completely prepared to be stunned.’

  ‘Not sure I’d use the word stunned exactly,’ I reply with a small smile, ‘Maybe dumbfounded or perhaps flabbergasted are a little more accurate.’ He raises his eyebrows and I laugh. ‘Okay, let’s settle on pleased. The fact is I’ve managed to arrange for an architect and builder to take a look tomorrow afternoon. Do you mind giving me a key?’

  ‘Consider me officially impressed,’ he answers. ‘Quick work indeed. But are they any good?’

  ‘I’d say so. I’ve used both of them before. I’ll email you a couple of photos showing a couple of their completed projects and you can check them out on my website. So, will you let me have a key?’

  He gives a mock sigh as I raise my eyebrows. ‘Be gentle. This is a big moment for me. I’ve never given a woman a key to my house before.’

  ‘What about your heart?’ I quip back, then want to cut out my tongue.

  ‘So, what are you two love birds having a little tête-à-têt
e about in the corner then?’

  Heart in my trainers, I turn towards my thick skinned parent who is beaming at us both as though we’ve just got engaged. I can feel the anger start to swamp me, but I don’t know who I’m more furious with – myself or my gob-shite father. I open my mouth to tear a strip off him, despite being in polite company; however, just as I get to, ‘What the bl..’ the kitchen door opens and in walks a blonde vision.

  Gaynor Andrews is dressed in ice blue. The dress fits perfectly; low cut and gathered under the bust in traditional Regency fashion. Her hair is twisted up behind and falls down her back in a riot of soft curls and a bandeau of light blue twisted crepe and roses completes the ensemble. As one, the whole cast break into an impromptu applause.

  Never have I hated anyone so much, or been so thoroughly ashamed of myself. I just have to get out of the room. Now.

  I mumble something to Noah and back towards the kitchen table. All eyes are on Gaynor who is now holding court in the middle of the room, so it’s relatively easy for me to scurry around the table and slip out of the kitchen behind her. I resist the urge to trample deliberately on her beautiful satin train as I push open the door, and loathe myself even more for wanting to…

  Two minutes later I’m leaning against my bedroom door and take a deep breath. God I am such an idiot. I can see my shadowy reflection in the full length mirror on the opposite wall. The opposite of delicate. I look like a bloody farm hand. ‘You silly cow.’ I whisper to myself. ‘You stupid, silly cow.’

  I walk towards the mirror and continue out loud, ‘So you’re both best buds now are you? And what do you think’s going to happen next then? He’s going to fall in love with your “womanly curves”? Decide he prefers something to grab hold of in the sack?’ I’m now right up against the mirror and want nothing more than to punch it. Then, incongruously I notice Dotty sitting shaking in the background, and just like that my anger dissipates, leaving a kind of sad acceptance in its wake.

  Turning away from the mirror, I call the little dog to me and she runs up, tail wagging and rolls straight onto her back. ‘Oh Dotspot,’ I murmur, bending down to tickle her tummy, ‘Your mummy’s a complete and utter idiot. You’d think that at thirty two years old, she’d have more sense.’ She licks my hand earnestly in answer. ‘Well,’ I continue standing back up, ‘enough’s enough. It’s time to grow up. I’m not living in the middle of a bloody fairytale, no matter what Freddy thinks. Drop dead gorgeous world famous actors do not fall in love with nobodies – unless of course that nobody is someone with looks like Gaynor Andrews. And you know what Dot?’ She looks at me with her head on one side as I wag my finger at her. ‘My life is good. My life is happy. This job could put me on the map and I’m bloody lucky to have it. But that’s all it is. A job. I’m not the first to experience unrequited love and I won’t be the last. The sooner I get this sorted, the sooner he’ll be gone and out of my life.’ I nod my head at her emphatically. Excellent pep talk, don’t you think?’

  I completely ignore the little voice in my head that is saying, ‘But what if he moves here permanently…?’

  Chapter Fifteen

  I wake up at six again, basically because I’m ravenously hungry. I didn’t venture out of my bedroom again last night, so not only did I not get Noah’s key but I didn’t get anything to eat either, (not that it will do me any harm), and, once filming started I wasn’t even allowed to turn on the bedroom light so I simply sat by the window in the twilight and listened to the dialogue taking place below. Of course it had to be a love scene. Talk about torture. Still, even self torment has its limits and after listening to the same protestations of undying adoration for the fifth time, I decided I needed to sleep…

  As I get out of bed, I have the great idea of texting Noah and asking him to leave the key hidden outside his front door. That way I keep this professional and don’t actually have to see him. Perfect plan. Maybe I should try starving myself more often.

  Putting Dotty on her leash first, I peak over the banister. The hall below is deserted, and, breathing a sigh of relief I head down into the kitchen to grab something to eat. Contrary to my earlier speculation, starvation doesn’t appear to be helping me in the thinking clearly stakes, as my stomach is now completely in charge and currently believes my throat’s been cut…

  I’m just finishing my tea and toast when the kitchen door opens, and, looking up with my heart in my mouth, I’m relieved to see it’s Jed and Arnold. ‘Hey,’ I smile, ‘How’s it going guys. Want a cuppa?’ At their nods, I set about making a fresh pot while they wax lyrically about Gaynor Andrews. Seems it’s not only Jed’s son who has a crush. After about five minutes of this, I’m actually wondering if the person they’re raving about is the same Gaynor Andrews who attended Noah’s cocktail party. Maybe it’s just overweight female interior designers she has an aversion to.

  Another ten minutes goes by before I finally get them to draw breath long enough to ask what time they’re kicking off today, only to learn that due to the late finish last night, and another one to come tonight, the intention is to allow Gaynor, delicate flower that she is, to get a bit of well earned beauty sleep and start just before lunch time. I nod sympathetically and resist the urge to stick my fingers down my throat along with an imitation gagging sound.

  Think maybe I’m really not a very nice person…

  My phone suddenly pings and, glancing down, I see that it’s a text message from Noah. ‘Oh be still my beating heart,’ I gripe internally as I open up the message.

  ‘Key under right hand plant pot – no-one 1 will ever think to look there :-) If it’s not too much trouble, stick around house til I get back?’ I frown before replying.

  ‘Rn’t u filming l8 again tonite?’

  ‘Not me. Gaynor’s gig. Be finished bout 5ish. C u l8r. Will order us dinner.’ Well, I’ll be blowed…

  After spending the morning at the gallery, I go back to the house to freshen up (go figure) before going up to Noah’s. Plus I’ve decided to take the car and drive up. For two reasons. First of all, I don’t want to arrive all hot and sweaty again and second, I might want to make a quick exit once we’ve finished talking shop over our cosy takeaway…

  The unseasonably warm weather is still holding out which I think bodes well for Gaynor being stuck at the house until the early hours. Don’t know whether to be happy or sad over that. I suppose it depends on whether I’m required to listen to her…

  I change into a floaty skirt in soft pastels together with a fitted pale pink top and matching flat pumps. I actually dug it out from the back of my wardrobe – think I bought it for a wedding or something a few years ago. Looking at myself in the mirror, I reflect that even Kit couldn’t complain at my image of feminine curvaceousness (is that a word?) Okay, it might be a bit dated but I think it’s quite flattering. Makes me look younger too – always a bonus. Not totally sure that it’s ideal tramping around a garden attire, but my wellies are in the back of the car.

  I haven’t actually told my best friend about Noah’s text, his offer of dinner, or any of it really. She knows I’m taking the builder and architect round the house but that’s all. I’ve never kept things from her before, and this is the second secret in as many weeks, but I just can’t face coming back and dissecting it all with her and Freddy again. They’ll want to know every little detail and I know I’ll only end up bursting into tears or something similar – I’ve been making an idiot of myself far too often lately. This is simply business and I certainly don’t tell her about every business meeting I have. Of course if she finds out, she’ll kill me…

  As I pick Dotty up to put her in my Ford Fiesta, I glance up at the high fence and gates shielding the Admiralty from the road. Just like the one at the bottom of the garden, the main gates now rival the entrance to Fort Knox, complete with a movie set equivalent of a bouncer stationed outside. Obviously the idea is that only those connected to filming are allowed within these hallowed grounds - which clearly does not include t
he local riff raff. I wonder if such a precaution is really necessary, but as he lets me out, I’m surprised to see that there is still a small contingent of hardened groupies milling around. Gives me quite a thrill actually to see them surge towards the car in the hope that it’s someone famous. Unfortunately, there’s pretty much complete indifference once they realise it’s me - mind you, a couple of them do give me a wave which is rather nice...

  Fifteen minutes later, I’ve driven round to Kingswear and am making my way slowly up along the cliff road to Noah’s house. I’m a little early on purpose. I want to get a feel for the place again without all the Hollywood types diluting the atmosphere. After parking the car a few yards down the road (already laboriously turned around ready for the aforementioned speedy getaway), I hunt for the door key and find it under the pot as promised.

  It feels strange letting myself into Noah’s house. Although there’s not a lot of furniture or decoration, the interior already feels infused with the actor’s presence and for a couple of self indulgent minutes I allow myself to imagine living here with him as I wander from room to room. Then heading into the kitchen, I notice a half full bottle of red wine and two empty wine glasses, one with lipstick around the rim, and my day dream comes to a screeching halt. Telling myself it’s absolutely nothing to do with me doesn’t erase the ridiculous pain in my chest, but picking the glasses up and putting them into the sink makes me feel slightly better because I can’t see them – how silly is that? Forcing myself back into professional mode, I take out my notebook and place it on the worktop. Then I do what we English always do when we’re at a bit of a loose end – I put the kettle on.

  By four thirty pm and three cups of tea later, both builder and architect have gone and I’m shattered but elated. They loved my idea of a full length outside porch and Edwardian conservatory but made suggestions and tweaks that would give both the added wow factor. We also came up with ideas for a completely new kitchen; master bathroom; three en suite bathrooms; new windows; bi-fold doors to the drawing room; a gymnasium and a tennis court. And that’s just for starters. Woo-hoo, I’m on a roll. God, I’m good...