The Doris Day Vintage Film Club

by Fiona Harper

  He shrugged and smiled at her. ‘Why not?’

  Why not indeed. She had no idea why she was so nervous about this, no idea at all.

  ‘Okay. Let’s go then.’

  She took a deep breath and headed up the narrow and winding staircase at the back of The Glass Bottom Boat. She pushed the door to the upper room open and was met with a sea of smiling, happy faces.

  ‘Hey, everyone,’ Claire said in a rush. ‘Sorry I’m a little late!’

  ‘Only five minutes late,’ Maggs said from her vice-president’s chair.

  Claire fussed with her DVD case as she put it down on the table. ‘Yes, I know, but still late. However,’ she said, turning to Nick, ‘I have a good reason. I’ve brought a guest. I hope you don’t mind.’

  ‘We totally don’t mind,’ Peggy said, grinning.

  ‘This is Nick.’

  Nick waved at the group. ‘Hi,’ he said. ‘This is my first time, so be gentle with me.’

  That earned him a collective chuckle and even more smiles.

  ‘Are you a new member?’ George asked, looking quite serious. Claire wasn’t sure if he was feeling territorial or glad of some male company.

  ‘Give the guy a chance. He’s only just got here. Let’s just say he’s an interested visitor, and why don’t we at least let him see a film before he makes up his mind?’

  Most of the group nodded.

  Kitty piped up, a naughty twinkle in her eye. ‘I don’t ‘spose you need a dress too, do you?’ And then she whispered to Grace, ‘I wouldn’t mind getting him down to his underwear!’ Unfortunately, Kitty’s version of ‘subtle’ was one step down from using a loud hailer, and half the room heard her, including Claire. She didn’t dare look at Nick.

  Grace dug Kitty firmly in the ribs with her elbow and blushed a fierce red. It was the first time Claire had ever seen her look so flustered. ‘Shut up!’ she whispered back.

  ‘What?’ Kitty mouthed at her. ‘Just sayin’!’

  Claire slipped her arm through Nick’s and closed the distance between them. ‘Anyway, I hope you’ll all give Nick a warm Doris Day Film Club welcome.’

  There was a chorus of ‘Hi’s, ‘Hello’s and ‘Welcome’s from around the room.

  ‘Hey, Abby,’ Claire said, seeing her sitting next to Kitty and Grace and looking very pretty, with her hair pulled back off her face and yet another new pair of skinny jeans on. ‘How are you?’

  ‘Great,’ Abby said, both beaming and blushing.

  Claire smiled. ‘I take it things are going well with Ricky?’

  Abby blushed harder. ‘And not just that …’ She reached into her back pocket and produced a pair of tickets, which she flourished proudly.

  Claire’s mouth dropped open. ‘But I saw your mum tear them up!’

  Abby nodded. ‘Ricky convinced me to talk to her, and we cleared a few things up. She even said sorry for what she said at the party, then yesterday she came up to my room and gave me these.’

  ‘I thought you said it was all sold out?’

  Abby shrugged. ‘Mum wouldn’t say how she got them, only that she “called in a few favours”. I don’t really care how she did it, as long as Ricky and I can go together.’

  Claire smiled. ‘I’m so glad it all turned out well in the end. You know what,’ she said to everyone, ‘as a club we did a great job helping Abby. I think that deserves a round of drinks to celebrate. What does everyone want?’

  She spent the next five minutes taking orders and then nipped downstairs. When she returned with a barman in tow carrying a tray of drinks, everyone cheered. Claire looked for Nick. He was deep in conversation with George, Maggs and Bev, and all three of the old generation of the film club were smiling and laughing as he told them about a trip to Morocco that had gone terribly wrong.

  That gave Claire an idea about what film they should watch that evening. They had been planning on The Ballad of Josie – not one of her favourites, but you had to give them all a fair go – but suddenly she realised she wanted Nick to be impressed by Doris, to see her as a serious actress as well as a bright and bubbly musical star.

  She sat down next to him. He didn’t miss a beat telling his story, but the smile he gave her made her stomach do a perfect triple somersault.

  ‘So what do you do, Nick?’ Maggs asked.

  ‘He’s a journalist,’ Claire said proudly. ‘Does travel pieces.’

  Much to his surprise, Nick shook his head, but he had just taken a sip of his drink, so she had to wait for him to swallow it before he could give a proper answer.

  ‘You’re not? I thought Jayce Ryder wanted you to do a “piece” on The Hamilton?’

  Nick swallowed. ‘He did.’

  How had she not known this? How had she managed, once again, to jump to conclusions without even digging deeper? Mind you, when they chatted they tended to talk about her work more than his. Why hadn’t she noticed that either? And on the few occasions he’d told work stories, the details had fitted within her idea of what he did well enough for her not to ask more questions. For some reason, the fact she’d missed this made her feel more than a tad uneasy.

  They all looked at him, waiting for him to say more. Claire could see he was weighing something up very seriously. Finally, he nodded, almost to himself, and looked her in the eye. ‘I do tell stories about the places I visit. Let’s just say they’re more visual than verbal.’

  He was watching her closely, as if he was waiting for something to happen, for a particular response. Claire wracked her brains. ‘Like a photographer?’

  ‘Kind of.’

  He kept looking at her intently, as if he was willing her to understand something. It was making her nervous. And when Claire was nervous, she had a tendency to do one of two things: clam up or babble. Unfortunately, on this occasion she seemed unable to do anything but the latter.

  ‘That’s so cool! I’ve always thought what a wonderful job that must be. Oh, the things you must have seen! Have I seen your pictures anywhere? Hey, Peggy,’ she called across the room, ‘isn’t Nicole’s husband a photographer too? What’s his name?’

  Peggy gave her a strange look. ‘Alex Black,’ she replied slowly.

  ‘Oh, yes! That’s him.’ Claire tuned back to Nick. ‘Have you met him? Alex Black?’

  Nick’s eyes were a little wide and he was staring at her too. ‘No, but I’ve heard of him.’

  ‘He’s married to Peggy’s business partner,’ Claire said, totally aware her mouth had run away with her, but powerless to apply the brakes. ‘He does landscapes, mostly British—’

  Maggs cut her off. ‘Good for him,’ she said firmly. ‘Now, do you think we’re in danger of watching a film tonight, or are we going to spend the whole evening extolling the virtues of Peggy’s friend’s husband?’

  Claire could have kissed Maggs.

  ‘Yes. Yes, of course.’ She stood up and walked over to her DVD case. ‘Change of plan, if everyone’s happy? How about The Man Who Knew Too Much?’

  There was a firm and loud murmur of agreement, much to Claire’s relief. A few moments later, the lights were off and the credits were rolling. She sat down between Nick and Maggs, feeling slightly out of breath and settled down to watch Hitchcock’s classic thriller.

  Maggs leaned in close and nodded towards their guest. ‘I reckon he’s a keeper,’ she whispered in Claire’s ear. She could see Candy and Peggy sitting next to each other, both gave her thumbs-up signs.

  Claire’s heart rate slowed further. She made herself breathe in and out slowly. Yes, he was, wasn’t he? He’d charmed them all – every single member of the Doris Day Film Club – which meant he’d passed her little test with flying colours. She settled down to watch the film knowing she shouldn’t really feel quite so scared any more.

  *

  Dominic was starting to get scared. Not because Claire had almost stumbled upon part of the truth, but because she hadn’t. It was as if she hadn’t wanted to go down the trail of breadcrumbs he was trying to lay
out for her.

  He watched the family on the screen talking to someone in the back of a bus, but really didn’t pay much attention to what was being said. He’d waited too long, hadn’t he? He shouldn’t have been such a coward.

  It was just the more time he’d spent with her over the last week or so, the more he’d come to realise how seeing her father again had shaken her up. At the time he’d told himself he was protecting her, but now he was starting to wonder if it was because he was chicken.

  And yet he still couldn’t tell her. Not yet.

  Earlier on that afternoon he’d called the BBC documentary team and had let them know he was just about fit and able. Pete had been right – he’d have hated himself if he’d done Ryder’s thing – and he knew he couldn’t stay in London indefinitely. It was time to go back to his real life, see if he could try and merge it with the new one he was building for himself at home too.

  Only, the director had some surprising news of his own. The job was still Dominic’s if he wanted it, but the schedule had changed, something to do with filming permissions and needing to grab a window of opportunity before it closed. They were going to Yangcheng three weeks early. If he said yes, he had to fly out tomorrow.

  So how could he come clean to Claire now? He couldn’t drop a bombshell like that and run, leave her to stew on it for a month before he returned.

  He glanced across at her as she watched the film. Her features were lit with the soft blue light from the TV screen. She was totally absorbed in the unfolding story. He didn’t think he’d ever met anyone quite like her. Forget about Doris Day. He reckoned he could sit here all night and look at Claire and he wouldn’t get bored.

  Eventually, he managed to tear his eyes from her and focus his attention back on the screen, knowing that was what she wanted. It turned out to be a really good film, a tense thriller about an ordinary couple caught up in an assassination plot with an exciting and dramatic climax. He also hadn’t realised this was the film that had made ‘Que Sera, Sera’ a hit. He’d have put money on the fact it had come from a cheesy musical or something like that.

  They stayed and chatted some more to the rest of the group after the film had ended. He had to admit he was surprised by the diversity of the Doris Day Film Club members – old and young, male and female, well-off and not so well-off. They were an interesting bunch. He could see why Claire was so enthusiastic about her hobby and why she threw herself into her role as president whole-heartedly.

  They walked back to Claire’s house afterwards. It seemed so familiar, so natural now to walk this way with her that he could hardly believe the first time had only been four weeks ago. He felt as if he’d known her for years.

  As always, he walked her to the gate but stopped shy of going up the path to the front door. He looked down at her, wondering how on earth he was going to break the news. He wanted to tell her the truth – the whole truth – so badly it hurt. He was so tired of papering over his own cracks, of running, scared that if he slowed down and someone took a really good look at him, they wouldn’t like what they saw.

  ‘Claire? I’ve got something to tell you … not great news.’

  She smiled at him.

  ‘I’ve had a call from some colleagues of mine,’ he told her. ‘I’ve been offered a job.’

  Her expression didn’t change. ‘The sort of thing you do is freelance, right? You have to take the opportunities when they come?’

  ‘Yes,’ he replied. ‘I do. I need the money and the profile this one will give me. Hopefully, it’ll take me to the next level of my career.’

  Claire hugged him tighter. He could feel her grinning against his neck. ‘But that’s good, isn’t it? I thought you said this was bad news.’

  He peeled himself away from her, looked her in the eye so she could see everything he was thinking and feeling. ‘I catch a flight to Shanghai tomorrow. I’ll be gone for four and a half weeks.’

  That was the arrow that pierced her smile and sent it fluttering to the ground. ‘Oh.’ For a long time she didn’t say anything and then she pulled him towards her and delivered the sweetest, sexiest kiss yet. It was a double-edged sword, because he knew he didn’t deserve it.

  ‘Nick?’ she whispered. ‘As romantic as this is, kissing at the gate like teenagers, one day you’re going to have to come inside.’

  He froze. Don’t say it, he begged her silently. Don’t make this harder than it already is.

  But it seemed that Claire was blind to the subtle signals he’d been sending her all evening. She started to back away up the path, let her fingers join with his and then tugged him to go with her.

  Feeling like every fibre of his being was screaming at him to not be an idiot, to just give in and join her, he shook his head. As much as he wanted to, he couldn’t do it, not while there was so much unsaid left between them. ‘I can’t,’ he said, pulling her to him and burying his face in her hair. ‘I want to but I can’t. Not tonight.’

  ‘Early flight?’ she said shakily.

  He didn’t reply, too sick of half-truths and misdirections to let even one more out of his mouth.

  ‘I’ll miss you,’ she said, and her voice sounded all scratchy.

  Dominic swallowed. His throat had suddenly got very tight. ‘I’ll miss you too.’

  He just held her for a while, breathing her in. He didn’t want to let her go, but he knew that he had to. When he had finally gathered the strength, he pulled back, brushed her hair from her face and held it in his hands.

  ‘Whatever happens after this,’ he told her, surprised by the depth of emotion in his voice. Erica had always told him he sounded like a robot when she’d wanted him to get deep and meaningful. ‘I want you to know that you’re the most amazing person I’ve ever met.’

  She shook her head, but he carried on.

  ‘Yes, you are. You’ve been through so much, Claire, and yet you haven’t let it scare you into living small, running away …’ Like he had. ‘You’re generous and big-hearted and caring, and you’ve always got a kind word and a smile for everyone you meet.’

  She blinked and a tiny trail of moisture formed on her cheek. ‘Oh, I don’t think I’m too different from most people.’

  He smiled and shook his head. She didn’t see that, either, but maybe that was what he loved best about her. ‘You’re so strong,’ he told her. ‘So strong … I meant what I said about being amazing, and when I get back I’m going to do everything I can to make you see it too.’

  Her face stretched into a wide smile. ‘You still want to see me when you come back? This isn’t a brush-off?’

  He decided words weren’t doing a good enough job, so he decided to persuade her with his lips. Finally, he mumbled, ‘Of course I do, you daft woman.’ And then, before he could weaken any further, he kissed her one more time, turned and walked down the road without looking back.

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  I’m Not At All In Love

  ‘They’ve introduced a new range of cocktails, have you seen?’ Peggy said excitedly. She passed the menu to Candy, who then showed it to Claire.

  ‘We have to have this one!’ Claire said, tapping at the menu with a fingernail and grinning at the other two.

  ‘It would almost be unpatriotic not to,’ Peggy agreed. She flapped the menu closed and signalled for the barman. ‘Three Doris Days, please,’ she said, batting her eyelashes at him.

  He smiled back at her. ‘Coming right up.’

  Candy sighed. ‘I liked the look of the Ginger Rogers too, but we really have to drink Doris first.’

  ‘What a genius idea,’ Claire said. ‘Inventing cocktails named after old movie stars.’

  A few minutes later, the barman returned with three long glasses, filled with ice, alcohol and decorated with sugar round the rim. All three women looked at their cocktails.

  Candy squinted at hers. ‘It’s very … um …’

  ‘I think the word you’re looking for is “pink”,’ Peggy said helpfully.

&nb
sp; They exchanged looks then picked up their glasses and put the straw in their mouths. Claire took a long hard sip, then put hers down on the bar, frowning. ‘Wow,’ she said.

  Candy nodded. ‘It starts off sweet, almost sickly, and then – bam!’

  ‘I got that too!’ Peggy said. ‘There’s a warmth to it, reminds me of brandy, but it isn’t brandy.’ She smacked her lips. ‘Nope, can’t tell what it is. I wish they’d label the ingredients of these things. I don’t like blind cocktail drinking.’

  ‘I did ask,’ Claire said, taking another long slurp, ‘but he said these are secret recipes and that if he told me he’d have to kill me. I don’t like it that much, even if it is named after Doris.’ She paused as another layer of flavour hit her taste buds. ‘Ooh, have another taste! There’s something else, too. Something almost—’

  ‘Sharp?’ Candy suggested. ‘No, that’s the wrong word. It’s more refreshing and clean, despite the warm notes. I don’t think I’ve ever tasted anything quite like it.’

  All three of them nodded as they sat on their bar stools.

  ‘I’m not sure we’ll ever work it out,’ Peggy said.

  ‘Maybe we’re not supposed to,’ Claire said. ‘After all, it’s surprising and complex, a bit of a mystery. A bit like the woman herself.’

  The other two smiled at her.

  ‘I think you’re right,’ Candy said. ‘Perhaps we should just enjoy its indefinable qualities without analysing it.’

  ‘You go ahead,’ Peggy said, fixing her eyes on the bartender, who was serving someone at the other end of the bar, and smiling. ‘I think I might work on getting the secret out of that one there, and I don’t think he’ll shoot me afterwards, either.’

  Claire chuckled. ‘Peggy, you’re incorrigible.’

  Peggy sighed and took another sip of her cocktail. ‘I know. Fun, isn’t it?’

  ‘So …’ Candy said, leaning forward. ‘What’s the news on the hunky Nick? Have you heard from him recently?’

  Now it was Claire’s turn to sigh. She shook her head. He’d been gone for two weeks and two days, which meant he was roughly halfway through his trip. It was torture. ‘He’s off in China, in the mountains. He said he might not have any signal for a couple of days.’