‘Oli?’
‘What?’
‘I’ve been here before.’
‘What, stuck in the middle of a lake in the middle of nowhere?’
‘No, here. I know where we are. There’s a village just around the corner. I know someone who lives there. We can use her phone.’
His eyebrows rose. ‘Really?’
‘Yes, but we’ll have to wade through this first.’
‘You’re not wading anywhere,’ Oli said. She watched as he opened his car door, a wave of freezing water sloshing inside.
‘Shit!’ Oli exclaimed. ‘I guess it’s good-bye to these shoes,’ he said, and his feet disappeared into the cold depths. He waded around the back of the car and finally reached Kay’s door, opening it slowly before bending double and scooping Kay from the passenger seat. She just had time to grab her handbag before it washed away, and she quickly secured her arms around Oli’s neck. It was her moment as a heroine, she thought. She was Tess being carried along the flooded lane by Angel Clare. She was Marianne Dashwood in the arms of Willoughby. No, she thought. For once, her life was better than fiction. She was Kay gazing up into the blue eyes of Oli Wade Owen. It was like a scene from one of her wild imaginings, and she was enjoying every single second of it.
‘Comfy?’ he asked with a smile.
She nodded up at him as he sploshed through the water, his strong legs seeming to part it with ease. Kay’s own legs felt cold and vulnerable and very on display, the slinky blue dress having ridden halfway up them when Oli picked her up. Her hat was still in place, though, which she was glad of, when it began to rain.
The drops were light at first, and the view of the lane ahead looked half hidden in a romantic pearl curtain, but then it began to pour in earnest, and they were both soon soaked through.
Finally making it to the other side of the flood, Oli placed Kay on the ground, and there was no avoiding the rest of the puddles in the lane. Kay’s strappy sandals and pale stockings were soon soaked through, along with everything else.
‘Where’s this house?’ Oli said, his hair plastered to his face and his blue shirt three shades darker than it had been when they left Lyme Regis.
‘Just around the corner,’ Kay said, leading the way. Unfortunately, it wasn’t just around the corner. Nor the next. Or the next. That was the trouble with the country lanes. Each bend looked similar to a dozen others, and Kay was beginning to panic in fear that they would never reach Nana Craig’s at all but be walking the wet lanes forever more.
At last they turned a corner and the cottage came into view, its chocolate-coloured thatched roof a most welcome sight, especially when Kay spied a thin trickle of wood smoke coming from its chimney.
‘There!’ she declared, pointing at the pretty house.
Oli laughed as they approached and he opened the gate. ‘Who lives here, Hansel and Gretel?’
They ran up the brick path and sheltered under the porch, knocking on the door and hoping that somebody would be inside to welcome them in.
‘Who is it?’ a voice came from behind the yellow wooden door.
‘Nana Craig? It’s Kay—Adam’s friend.’
‘Kay?’
‘Yes! Our car’s broken down in the lane, and we need to make a call.’
The door opened, and the sweet face of Nana Craig appeared. ‘Kay?’ she said. ‘Is that really you?’
Kay suddenly remembered she was still wearing the hairpiece and hat and quickly took them off, hoping her own hair wasn’t too much of a fright.
‘Oh! Your hair’s fallen out!’ Nana Craig said in horror.
‘It’s a hairpiece. I’m incognito,’ Kay explained.
‘And you’re soaked through. Get inside before you catch your death.’
Kay walked into the hallway. ‘Nana Craig, this is Oli.’
‘Hello,’ Oli said, ducking his head so as not to hit it on the low door frame.
Nana Craig narrowed her eyes at him. ‘I’ve seen you,’ she said in an accusatory sort of tone.
‘You might well have done,’ Oli said, nodding and sending a shower of water over Nana Craig. ‘God, I’m sorry!’
‘Don’t blaspheme!’ Nana Craig said. ‘I won’t have blasphemers in my house.’
‘Oli’s an actor,’ Kay explained.
‘Is he?’ Nana Craig didn’t sound impressed. ‘Well, that doesn’t excuse blaspheming. And shouldn’t he be acting somewhere now instead of—instead of being with you?’
‘I’ve got some time off,’ Oli said. ‘Thought I’d take Kay out for lunch, but we kind of got stuck in the flood.’
‘Oli’s got an amazing car,’ Kay said. ‘But we’ve got to ring for a garage.’
‘Yes,’ Oli said. ‘We were wondering if we could use your phone. There’s no mobile service out here.’
Nana Craig nodded towards the telephone.
‘And a cup of tea would be great,’ Oli said. ‘And maybe a towel?’
Nana Craig gasped. ‘Of course. You’re both soaked.’ She bustled off in search of towels, leaving Kay and Oli dripping in the hallway.
‘I don’t think she likes me,’ Oli said. ‘Why doesn’t she like me?’ He sounded genuinely perplexed. He’d obviously never met a woman yet who hadn’t swooned at the mere sight of him.
‘Don’t take it personally,’ Kay said. ‘She just doesn’t like actors.’
‘Why not?’
‘She was once married to an actor who ran off with a girl who promised to get him a part in a movie.’
‘My God!’
‘Yes. Isn’t that dreadful?’
‘And did he?’ Oli asked.
‘What?’
‘Get the part in the movie?’
‘I don’t think so.’
‘I hope he got the girl at least,’ Oli whispered.
Nana Craig appeared before anything else could be discussed, carrying one primrose towel and one candyfloss pink one. ‘I’ll leave you two to dry off,’ she said. ‘Kay, there’s a cloakroom down there on the right. I’ll lend you a dress and cardigan.’
Kay thanked her and headed for the cloakroom, peeling off the sodden dress and hoping it wasn’t ruined. She’d have to face the wrath of Beth if it was.
She towel dried her body and hair, doing her best to restore some order and smiling as she looked around the bathroom. The toilet and sink were dark pink and the walls were covered in a peony-festooned paper.
There was a polite knock on the door. ‘Kay?’
Kay opened it, the pink towel covering her body.
‘I brought you these. Your figure’s a little more slight than mine, but at least these are dry and warm.’
‘Thanks so much,’ Kay said. ‘And I’m so sorry to just turn up like this.’
‘What else could you do?’ Nana Craig said. ‘I’ll go and make the tea.’
Kay looked at the dress Nana Craig had given her. She liked blue and pink and yellow and purple, but usually not all together at once. Still, as Nana Craig said, it was dry. There was also a voluminous cardigan in acid green. Kay didn’t dare look at her reflection in the gilded cloakroom mirror, for it was probably not the look she was after for a first date with Oli Wade Owen.
Daring to leave the cloakroom, she heard Nana Craig in the kitchen.
‘May I give you a hand?’ Kay asked, entering the tiny room at the back of the cottage and spying the candy-striped mugs and polka-dotted teapot.
‘I can manage,’ the woman said, and Kay thought Nana Craig sounded a little bit put out. ‘You seen Adam?’
‘No,’ Kay said. ‘Not today. I expect he’s working.’
Nana Craig nodded. ‘He works hard, you know. Not like these actor types. He doesn’t have time to go swanning off at a moment’s notice. But I expect you’ll see him later,’ Nana Craig continued, placing a scarlet sugar bowl on an orange tea tray.
‘He might be coming over,’ Kay said. ‘He’s seeing Gemma.’
‘Gemma?’ Nana Craig looked startled. ‘Who’s Gemma?’<
br />
‘She’s playing Anne Elliot—the heroine in Persuasion.’
‘She’s an actress?’
Kay nodded.
‘I see,’ Nana Craig said, pouring hot water from the kettle into the polka-dotted teapot.
‘She’s lovely—really lovely,’ Kay said, pulling the acid green cardigan around herself nervously.
‘Actors and actresses are not to be trusted,’ Nana Craig said, her lips a thin line across her face. ‘They’re only ever out for themselves.’ Nana Craig’s hands clutched the edges of the orange tea tray. ‘I expect Adam’s told you my story,’ she said.
‘Yes,’ Kay said. ‘And I was so sorry to hear about your husband. How he treated you was unforgivable, but Gemma’s not like that. And Oli isn’t either. They’re different people.’
Nana Craig shook her head. ‘I think you’ll find they’re all the same.’
Kay watched as she moved through to the living room with the tray of tea things, bringing the conversation to a halt. Kay followed the woman through. Oli was standing by the window and had taken his shirt and trousers off and was wearing the primrose towel around his waist like a funny kind of kilt. Nana Craig almost dropped the tray when she saw him, and Kay came rushing forward to relieve her of it.
‘Just trying to dry off,’ he said, his wet clothes in a pile on the colourful carpet.
‘I’ll hang them up in the kitchen,’ Nana Craig said, a blush creeping over her face as she hurried out of the room with the wet clothes.
‘Oli!’ Kay said.
‘Sorry,’ he said, ‘but what was I meant to do?’
‘She probably hasn’t seen a naked man for over fifty years!’
‘I had to get dry,’ Oli said.
‘I know, but couldn’t you—’
‘What?’
‘I don’t know—not be so naked?’
‘This isn’t how I imagined today would pan out,’ Oli said, shaking his head.
‘No,’ Kay said, ‘me either.’ Their eyes met.
‘How did you think it would pan out?’ he asked.
Kay didn’t know what to say, but he held her gaze, and something seemed to soften in his eyes, as if he wanted to say something to her.
Kay didn’t get a chance to find out what it might be, though, because Nana Craig came bustling into the room with a T-shirt and a raincoat. ‘I found these,’ she said, breaking the spell between them. ‘They’re Adam’s, so he’ll want them returned.’
‘Thank you,’ Oli said taking them from her. ‘No trousers?’
Nana Craig shook her head. ‘We weren’t expecting a naked man to call by, or we might have had a pair for you.’
Nana Craig and Kay turned their backs to allow Oli to get changed.
‘I hope nobody sees me like this,’ he said a moment later.
The women turned around and stared at the vision before them, and Kay burst into laughter. ‘Oh, Oli, if the tabloids could see you now!’
‘I hope they don’t,’ he said. ‘And you’d better get that hairpiece back on.’
‘I can’t—it’s soaked,’ she said. ‘You don’t have a hat I could borrow, do you, Nana Craig?’
‘I’ll see what I’ve got,’ she said and left the room.
‘I rather like this cardigan of yours,’ Oli said, taking a step towards her and placing his hand on the bobbly green sleeve.
‘Oh, don’t tease!’
Oli grinned, and his hand travelled down the length of the sleeve until his fingers caressed hers.
‘I’ve only got this,’ Nana Craig said, entering the room and causing Kay to spring apart from Oli.
Kay’s eyes widened as she saw the canary yellow rain hat, and she silently prayed that Oli wasn’t going to make her wear it.
‘Perfect,’ Oli said, taking it from Nana Craig and squashing it onto her head. ‘Glasses,’ he said.
Kay retrieved the glasses from her handbag. ‘I’m going to look hideous,’ she said.
‘You look fine,’ Oli said. ‘Nobody will guess who you are under all this.’
Kay sighed. This wasn’t the date she’d imagined at all.
‘Shit! I’ve got to get back,’ Oli said as he saw the clock on the mantelpiece. ‘I’d better ring for a taxi.’
Nana Craig’s mouth dropped open. ‘Your language is diabolical, young man!’
Oli smiled, and his blue eyes crinkled at the edges. ‘I know,’ he said. ‘I’m so sorry.’ His adorable expression was enough to win over ninety-nine percent of the women in the UK but it didn’t seem to be working with Nana Craig.
‘The phone’s through there,’ she said. ‘You’d better be on your way.’
He nodded and left the room, and a frosty silence descended. Kay bit her lip and tried to think of something to say, but her mind went blank.
Oli returned a moment later. ‘I’ve rung for a taxi. It’ll be here in twenty minutes. They have to come the long way round, to avoid the flooding.’
‘As any sensible driver would,’ Nana Craig said, picking up the tea tray and taking it back through to the kitchen.
‘Oh, dear,’ Kay said. ‘I don’t think it was such a good idea coming here after all. Poor Nana Craig! I think we’ve really upset her.’
Oli grinned. ‘She loves me, really.’
‘Yes, you’ve really managed to work your charm on her, haven’t you?’
‘Oh, I could if I wanted to,’ he said, the light gleaming in his eyes. ‘Except I don’t want to. At least not with her.’ He held her gaze again, and Kay felt something alarming in the pit of her stomach that had nothing to do with the length of time since breakfast. ‘Kay, there’s something I’ve been wanting to ask you.’ He took a step closer to her. ‘You’re so lovely,’ he said, and she felt his hand caress her cheek. ‘And I really like you, Kay.’
‘I like you too, Oli.’
‘I know you do,’ he said. ‘But we shouldn’t really be doing this.’
Kay’s eyes widened a fraction. ‘Doing what? Not having lunch?’
He smiled. ‘It’s—I don’t want to use this word, because it’s become such a cliché but it’s complicated.’
‘What is?’
‘Me.’
Kay nodded. ‘I know.’
‘You do?’ he asked, looking surprised. ‘What do you know?’
‘I know that actors can’t tie themselves to the people they meet when they’re filming.’
Oli nodded, looking relieved. ‘We live strange lives,’ he said. ‘Never in one place for long.’
Kay bit her lip, wondering if she dare say what she wanted to say. ‘But,’ she began, ‘that doesn’t mean you can’t have fun whilst you’re around, does it?’
Oli stared at her for a moment. ‘No, it doesn’t mean that.’
Kay smiled at him, her heart thumping wildly. ‘Good,’ she said.
Nana Craig came into the room. ‘Your taxi’s here,’ she said, frowning at the pair of them.
‘Right,’ Kay said, turning around and doing her best to hide her blushing face under the enormous yellow hat. ‘Thanks so much for taking care of us.’
Nana Craig nodded. ‘I’ll be wanting those clothes back,’ she said.
‘Of course,’ Kay said.
‘I was talking to him,’ the older woman said, nodding to Oli.
‘I’ll get them back to you as soon as possible,’ Oli said, walking towards Nana Craig and bending to kiss her cheek. She batted him away.
Kay grinned. He hadn’t won Nana Craig over at all, had he? But he’d certainly won Kay.
Chapter 25
Gemma’s scene with the actress playing Lady Russell was cut short several times by the heavy showers. They’d been shooting in the beautiful knot garden behind Marlcombe Manor, and Teresa—for once—had been pleased with how the scene was progressing. Gemma, too, had thought it was going well. She got on well with the older actress, and they found that they could portray Anne Elliot’s and Lady Russell’s intimacy easily.
But not everybody was as
pleased with their performances. Sheltering in the orangery, which was stuffed with extraordinary palms, Kim Reilly sidled up to her daughter.
‘She’s not very good, is she?’ Kim said in a sort of stage whisper.
‘Shush!’ Gemma hushed. ‘She’ll hear you.’
‘I don’t care if she does,’ Kim said, sniffing unrepentantly. ‘That sort of acting shouldn’t be tolerated.’
‘She used to act with the Royal Shakespeare Company,’ Gemma pointed out. ‘And they think very highly of her.’
‘The Royal Shakespeare Company!’ Kim made a tutting sound. ‘Call that acting? That’s just standing on stage spouting poetry.’
Gemma rolled her eyes. ‘And she’s very well respected as a television actress. You should see her CV.’
‘I don’t need to,’ Kim said. ‘I bet she’s ruined every role she ever touched. I don’t know what Teresa’s thinking. I would have done a much better job, and I’m your mother, too.’
‘What’s that got to do with anything?’
‘That scene you were shooting—it’s between mother and daughter.’
‘Lady Russell isn’t Anne’s mother.’
‘Isn’t she?’
‘No,’ Gemma said. ‘You really should read the book, Mum.’
‘The only things I read these days are the glossies and Vive! I can’t be doing with any Austen or Shakespeare.’
Gemma knew she wasn’t joking. Even when she was growing up, there had been a shocking dearth of books in their house.
‘I’ll wait for the script, my dear,’ she’d told her agent.
Gemma wished she could operate like her mother, but she always had to read the source material and anything else she could get her hands on, anything to help. It was exhausting, but worth it, she hoped.
‘So many interruptions,’ Kim said, looking out of the orangery as the rain slowly waned. It had been drumming on the glass roof like a thousand tiny tap dancers when the actors rushed inside, but now it was a gentle patter.
‘I expect we’ll be back to it soon,’ Gemma said, tidying a stray strand of hair.
Dreaming of Mr. Darcy Page 16