‘Oh, so humble. Yes. None of that actor ego business, just a funny, warm, gorgeous man. And his Irish accent could melt a thousand hearts.’ She turned to look at him, her smile faltering when she saw his had slipped. She had meant it to be amusing, light. She hadn’t succeeded.
‘Maybe I don’t want to melt a thousand hearts,’ he said.
‘Not that greedy?’
He shook his head. ‘Not nearly so greedy. I’d settle for one really important one.’
Lila swallowed. ‘Right, so. Oooh, that sounded pretty Irish, didn’t it? Right, so. There, so.’ She put on her broadest Irish accent, desperate to dispel the tension, the way Sam was looking at her with eyes that were even more mesmerizing in the moonlight. She needed to stop her heartbeat trying to race out of her chest, as if it had decided it was the heart Sam wanted to melt and was making its own way towards him, ready to accept its fate. ‘That’s the kind of thing, isn’t it?’
‘Lila,’ Sam said seriously, ‘that is the worst Irish accent I’ve ever heard. The absolute worst.’
She grinned. ‘I do try my very hardest, so I do.’
He rolled his eyes. ‘Come on then, what else have you got for me? Scottish? Welsh? American?’
Lila jumped up, put her mug on the rock and stood in front of him, with the sea behind her. She thought of all the scripts she’d read, some of the lines etched into her mind as she’d absorbed the drama and the romance of it in quiet moments on board Gertie.
‘We haven’t known each other long, Mr Bramerton,’ she started, trying her hand at a Welsh accent, and saw Sam’s eyebrows rise in surprise, ‘and not all our encounters have been amicable thus far—’
‘That’s Marianne’s line,’ he said quietly. ‘How do you know it?’
‘Toby let me see some of the scripts.’
He nodded, rubbing his jaw. He looked rattled, and she wondered if he thought she was intruding, inserting herself too much into his world. But a second later he seemed to snap out of it. ‘Not the best Welsh accent I’ve heard, but not the worst. What else?’
She switched to Scottish. ‘Not all our encounters have been amicable, thus far, but there is … something about you. Something I can’t …’ she paused for effect. ‘Forget.’ She coughed lightly, clearing her throat.
Sam crossed his arms over his chest. ‘Never, ever go undercover as a Scottish spy. But the emotion was convincing. Any more?’ he asked, his voice slightly rough. Of course, he knew what was coming, which scene she had recklessly picked to parade in front of him on the beach.
Lila crouched to ruffle Marmite’s fur, giving herself a moment to think. Could she really continue down this road? She stood up again, and this time put on her best hammy American Deep South accent, hoping that would break the tension. She picked up where she had left off. ‘Your candour is appreciated, of course, though I can’t see why you persist in seeing me when there is nothing more to discuss. Nothing at all between us.’
‘Estelle does Vivien Leigh,’ Sam said. ‘That was impressive, though you’re a bit on the dramatic side for Scarlett O’Hara.’ He gave her a wicked grin, and Lila squealed in outrage.
‘Too dramatic to be Scarlett O’Hara? That’s not possible!’
He laughed. ‘I think I just proved my point.’
Lila pretended to seethe. ‘I’ve done enough.’
Sam took her hand, suddenly serious. ‘Sorry – I’m sorry. I couldn’t resist. You’re good, Lila. Not all the accents are perfect, but you can deliver the lines, there’s no doubt about that.’
‘You don’t need to butter me up, you know,’ she said softly. ‘We’re just messing about.’
‘I’m not buttering you up – why would I? I’m being honest. Take it again, from the top. No accent this time, just you and the lines: you being Marianne.’
Lila shook her head. ‘We don’t need to—’
‘I know we don’t, but I want to see it again, without the fooling about. Please, Lila. I’m not making fun of you.’ He squeezed her hand and then let go, sitting back on the rock, watching her.
Lila chewed her lip. It was ridiculous, standing here on the beach in the middle of the night, quoting a TV series script to one of the professional actors starring in it, but she wanted, more than anything, to impress him. ‘OK,’ she murmured. ‘Just once.’
The tension thrummed between them. They both knew where this scene ended. She took a deep breath.
‘We haven’t known each other long, Mr Bramerton,’ she said again, enunciating the words, ‘and not all our encounters have been amicable thus far, but there is something about you. Something I can’t forget.’
‘And that is?’ Sam asked gently, picking up Robert’s line. Just three words, but he said them so perfectly, with curiosity and a hint of amusement.
‘Your candour is appreciated, of course,’ Lila continued formally, knowing this part of the script off by heart, Marianne continuing as if Robert hadn’t spoken. ‘Though I can’t see why you persist in seeing me when there is nothing more to discuss. Nothing at all between us.’
Now Sam stood, stepping in front of her, close enough that she could see the gold in his irises picked out by the moonlight. ‘Nothing?’ he echoed. ‘Are you sure about that? If you appreciate my candour, I hope you’ll listen to my next words. Because believe me when I say I’ve never been more certain about anything. Lila—’ she registered that he’d used the wrong name as he brought his hand to her face, his thumb tracing the line of her jaw.
‘Mr Bramerton,’ she croaked out. She reached up on tiptoes, her lips inching closer to his, and applause shattered the quiet. Lila stepped back, biting down on her bottom lip to stop the gasp from coming out. Sam blinked and dropped his hand.
Everyone had come off the bus. Keeley and Toby, Aria, Sarah, Darius, Bert and Claude. They were all standing there, clapping them. She felt herself flush bright red, but Sam smiled and put his arm gently around her shoulders. She could feel the tension in his body, and that his breathing wasn’t quite as regular as it perhaps should be.
‘Bravo,’ Bert called, once the applause had died down. ‘We came to see if you two were having a roll-about in the sand – bit cold for that sort of thing in these conditions, I would have thought, but Sam’s a young, virile man.’ Sam’s fingers tightened around Lila’s shoulder, but Bert continued, oblivious. ‘It turns out it’s even more entertaining than that. Lila, you’ve been hiding your talents from us.’
‘That was pretty great,’ Toby slurred.
‘Perhaps I need to be worried,’ Aria said, but she was grinning.
Lila shrugged. ‘I was just getting into the spirit of things.’ She felt a surge of pride that they were being so complimentary, even if it was mostly drunken hyperbole. She snuggled closer to Sam, loved how his tall, solid frame felt against her, his arm sheltering her from the wind.
‘You can help Sam on Monday then,’ Keeley said. Her pale skin was flushed, her blue eyes slightly unfocused. ‘When I go back to Derbyshire.’
Lila tensed. ‘You’re leaving?’
‘Just until Wednesday. I need to go and see Jordan.’ Her lips were downturned in an exaggerated pout, and Lila would have laughed had her friend not sounded so sad. ‘You can help Sam rehearse, ’cos we’ve got this scene coming up. Me and Sam and – and Toby, too. That’s right. It’s all three of us. And you know the scripts, Lila. You’d be perfect!’
‘We don’t need to—’ Sam started.
‘But Lila’ll be great,’ Keeley pressed. ‘Promise me you’ll help them.’
She was drunk and tearful, and Lila felt guilty for pouring her such a large slug of tequila. ‘Of course I’ll help.’
‘Promise?’ Keeley repeated, wrapping her arms around Sam and Lila, squeezing them together in a three-way hug.
‘I promise,’ Lila whispered into her hair. ‘You don’t need to worry. Go home and see Jordan. Everything will be fine here.’ She exchanged a worried glance with Sam. ‘We should be getting back now, anyway. It’s
nearly –’ she glanced at her watch – ‘two in the morning.’
‘Sure,’ Toby replied. ‘Don’t want to spoil the magic by going on too long.’ He flashed her a drunken grin.
‘Come on, everyone.’ Lila shrugged out of Keeley’s embrace and flapped her arms, as if she was herding a flock of unruly sheep back into their pen.
Darius took Keeley’s hand and led her back to the bus.
Soon only Sam and Lila were left on the beach. ‘Poor Keeley,’ she said. ‘It’s my fault she’s so drunk and maudlin.’
‘Hey.’ Sam turned her gently to face him. ‘She’s homesick. She can sleep off her hangover on the train, and Jordan will be waiting for her at the other end. And the tequila was Toby’s idea.’
‘I’ll get Max to cover for me on Monday, whenever you want to rehearse.’
‘You don’t have to do that.’ Sam rubbed his eyes, looking tired all of a sudden. ‘I shouldn’t have made you act out the scene like that. I was just so impressed. I wanted to … to see you do it for real.’
‘I started it,’ she said, not pointing out that he had said Lila instead of Marianne at the end, because she was sure he’d noticed. ‘But it is, essentially, your fault. If you hadn’t sung “Hey There Delilah” at me so beautifully, I wouldn’t have felt the need to compete.’
‘Oh really?’ He took a deliberate step towards her. ‘Are you sure it wasn’t something to do with my assertion that I wasn’t after melting a thousand hearts? That I was, perhaps, looking a lot closer to home? Believe me when I say I’ve never been more certain about anything. Lila—’
‘We need to get back on the bus,’ Lila said, trying to ignore the thrill of anticipation as he repeated the lines, emphasizing his original mistake. ‘Everyone’s waiting.’
‘You think they could wait a moment more?’ He was close enough that she could feel his warmth contrasting with the cold night. She swallowed. She hadn’t been exaggerating. He was gorgeous.
‘Sam …’ she murmured.
‘Delilah.’ He pushed a clump of hair away from her face and lowered his head to hers, and Lila had time to think that they probably had an audience again, inside the bus, but that she didn’t care one tiny little bit, when a piercing animal wail filled the air.
‘What the—’ Sam started, stepping back.
‘Marmite!’ Lila shrieked. ‘Oh, no! That was Marmite.’
Chapter Four
‘Where did the sound come from?’ Sam turned in a circle, his eyes alert.
‘Over towards the cliffs, I think. Oh God. What have I done?’
‘Don’t worry, we’ll find him. Here.’ He pointed to doggy paw-prints in the damp sand. ‘This way.’ He set off at a jog, calling for Marmite, and after a second Lila snapped herself back into focus and followed him. She couldn’t lose Marmite; never mind Charlie never forgiving her – she wouldn’t forgive herself.
‘Marmite?’ Sam called. ‘Marmite!’ He reached the edge of the sand and climbed up onto a rock. There was a jumble of them in front of the sheer cliff face. Marmite whimpered again, and Sam followed the sound.
‘You can’t climb up there, Sam!’ Lila shouted. ‘You’ve had too much to drink! Shit.’ She followed him, pulling herself up onto the shiny, slippery surface. Sam was a few paces ahead of her and didn’t respond. He was using the rocks as stepping stones, peering down into the hollows between them as he went. He made it look easy, but some of the gaps were huge. Lila hesitated, wobbling on her makeshift podium, looking for any signs of Charlie’s Yorkipoo.
‘What’s happening?’ Lila turned to see Aria and Claude hurrying across the beach towards them.
‘It’s Marmite,’ Lila said, swallowing. ‘He’s missing. He was off his lead, but he’s always fine on Porthgolow beach. We were watching him, but then—’
‘Here!’ Sam called, and she turned just in time to see him jump off a rock, the large spray of water as he landed in a rock pool. ‘Bloody hell, Marmite,’ he said, much more quietly. Lila took another long step, stretching her skirt to its limit, her foot skidding as it landed on the slick rock.
‘Lila!’ Aria squealed.
‘Stay there,’ Sam called, looking up briefly. ‘Don’t try and come over. I’ve got him. His collar’s stuck.’
‘Is he OK?’ Lila shouted. Her bones seemed to dissolve with relief when Sam nodded.
‘He’s soggy, but he seems all right. Just a bit …’ He leaned forward, disappearing from view, and then sat up again, holding a bedraggled Marmite close to his chest. ‘There.’ He grinned, and Lila decided that, skiddy surfaces or no, she had to get to that smiling man and the dog he had rescued.
But then Aria was beside her, offering a hand to help her down, and she couldn’t really refuse. They watched as Sam hoisted himself back onto the nearest rock and, more carefully now, made his way towards them. Claude reached up to collect Marmite, and Lila and Aria each took one of Sam’s hands as he jumped down.
Lila hugged him, hard.
‘Steady,’ he said softly, but he wrapped his arms around her. ‘He’s fine. A bit cold and damp, but otherwise OK.’
She stepped back and looked at him. ‘I don’t think Marmite’s the only one. How deep was it?’
‘Only up to my knees,’ Sam said. ‘Marmite was paddling, keeping his head above the water, but his collar was tangled up in seaweed. God knows how he got there in the first place.’
‘You,’ Lila said, taking Marmite from Claude’s arms, ‘are a terror.’ The little dog blinked up at her, his fur bedraggled. ‘Oh, it wasn’t your fault. I should have been watching you. I’m so sorry.’ She squeezed him tightly, and he whimpered.
The four of them trudged back to the bus. It was late, and cold, and Sam was drenched. ‘I’ve got towels on board,’ she said, ‘but they’re not exactly the huge, fluffy bath-sheet variety. Thank you for saving him.’
‘I doubt we were going to leave him there, were we?’
‘No, but … those rocks. Not to mention all the alcohol you’ve had. That could have gone so, so wrong. God, what a fuck-up.’
‘Marmite’s fine, and so am I. And we were both out there; you weren’t the only one who lost track of him. But all’s well, now.’
Once inside, Lila watched as Claude took his place at the wheel. She was proud that she hadn’t, in the end, gone through with driving Gertie herself. Then she glanced at Sam, sitting with a very sorry-looking Marmite on his knees. She may have got some things right tonight, but, she thought as she sat opposite him and gave him a tired smile, she still had a way to go.
Over the weekend, the events of that night came back to Lila in snippets: Sam’s Irish accent, her attempts at acting, him clambering over the rocks while Marmite wailed, his lyrical voice serenading her, and how exhausted he had looked as they’d started the journey home. Claude had driven Gertie smoothly back into place as if she’d never left her spot next to the catering tent.
Lila took Marmite to the emergency vet on Saturday morning, paying an extortionate amount to get the priceless reassurance that he was fine, and got an emotional message from Keeley on Saturday evening, apologizing for her outburst the night before, and saying she was sure Sam would be fine without an extra rehearsal. But by then, the idea was stuck in Lila’s head, and she couldn’t wait to spend more time with him. She told herself that she owed him after he’d rescued Marmite, and that she wanted to be more involved with the production. She’d got the bug, now – the performing bug. Not the love bug. Definitely nothing like that, she told herself: Lila had never been a swooning, hard-falling, hopeless-romantic kind of person, and she wasn’t about to start now – especially not with the star of a TV show whose presence in Cornwall was likely to be even more impermanent than her own.
‘Are you sure you’re all right doing this?’ she asked Max, late that Monday afternoon. She was already shrugging off her apron, smoothing down her blue silk top and wide-legged black trousers.
‘I love Gertie,’ Max said simply. ‘Can I try one of these?’
His fingers hovered over what was left of the display of mini doughnuts, some filled with chocolate sauce and some with jam. She and Amanda had cooked up a storm in Charlie’s kitchen the previous afternoon, and Amanda had promised she would continue to keep the Cornish Cream Tea Bus fully stocked until Charlie came back. After the previous few months’ success with SeaKing Safaris, they had been able to hire a trainee skipper, which meant that Amanda could take some time away from the business.
‘You can have whatever you want,’ Lila said to Max now. ‘That’s your reward for taking charge of the bus.’
‘You’re really going to rehearse with Toby and Sam?’ He sounded awestruck.
‘I am,’ she replied, knowing she sounded equally stunned. But she couldn’t think about it too much, or her nerves would stifle her. ‘How do I loo—’
‘Lovely,’ Max said, grinning.
Lila gave Max a quick hug, picked up Marmite and hurried off the bus.
It was towards the end of the day, and neither Sam nor Toby was needed in the final scene, so they had agreed to meet at the edge of the backstage village, beyond the neat row of actors’ trailers. The sun was bright but there was a strong wind, and Lila’s hair whipped around her face. She skirted the edge of the final truck and stopped dead.
Robert and Henry Bramerton were standing on the grass, chatting easily in their frock coats, breeches and shiny boots. The sight of them together, their silky cravats emphasizing their strong jawlines, was almost too much. Marmite sat at her feet, unconcerned that she’d come to an ungainly halt.
Toby spotted her and raised a hand in greeting. ‘Lila!’ he called, and she forced her legs to move.
‘Hello,’ Sam said, giving her a sheepish smile. She wondered if he’d meant those things he’d said on the beach, or if he’d been drunker than she’d realized and was now regretting it. Maybe I don’t want to melt a thousand hearts. She couldn’t think about that, about him, right now. She had to concentrate.
The Cornish Cream Tea Summer Page 4