‘So you’ve said nothing,’ Nana Craig said, biscuit crumbs cascading down her chin.
‘I told you, there was nothing to say. She’s in love with Oli Wade Owen.’
‘She thinks she’s in love with Oli Wade Owen, and she probably thinks that only because she hasn’t been given a choice.’
Adam shook his head at his nan’s logic.
‘She doesn’t know what’s on offer,’ Nana Craig continued. ‘It’s rather like the contents of this biscuit tin. If there was more on offer than these rather soft fruit shrewsburys, I might have made a different choice.’
‘I don’t think it’s that simple,’ Adam said.
Nana Craig shook her head. ‘You’ve got to tell her, Adam. It’s the only way.’
There was really nothing more Adam could say to convince his nan, and luckily, he didn’t have to, because his phone rang.
‘Hello?’
‘Adam? It’s Gemma.’
‘Gemma!’ Adam said. ‘Don’t tell me, you’ve changed your mind about the Hollywood film?’
‘I’m afraid not,’ she said. ‘It’s Kay.’
‘What about her?’ Adam interrupted quickly.
‘Something awful’s happened. I think you should make sure she’s all right.’
***
Somehow Kay managed to get through the rest of the day. After replacing the photograph of Annabel in Oli’s notebook, she got on with her chores, moving through the bed and breakfast like a domestic whirlwind. She vacuumed and mopped, scrubbed and polished, and tucked and folded until there wasn’t a single square inch that had been neglected. She then went shopping, replenishing her cupboards with everything that a guest could possibly request and a few other items she knew she might use to console herself, once the guests had gone. She filled every second with activity, because that way, she didn’t have to think.
Before she knew it, it was evening, and the cast returned to the bed and breakfast. Well, most of them did. Oli and Teresa were noticeable by their absence, and it was soon assumed that they found a room together elsewhere. It was a little after seven o’clock when a tall man in a suit turned up to pack and collect their belongings.
Kay followed him up the stairs to show him to their bedrooms. ‘Did they send any message?’ she dared to ask him.
‘Not by me,’ he told her. ‘I’m just the runner and was only told to collect their things.’
‘Where are they staying?’
‘Just outside Bath, I believe,’ he said politely.
So he’d gone. And without even saying good-bye.
Kay watched as the man did a thorough job of emptying the wardrobes and drawers, packing everything neatly away.
‘I think that’s about it,’ he said at last.
‘Yes,’ Kay said quietly. ‘It really is.’
She followed him back downstairs, and he nodded politely to her as he left. That was it. No message, no forwarding address; she didn’t even have his mobile phone number. Captain Wentworth wouldn’t have behaved in such a manner; Kay felt sure of it, and Mr Darcy’s good opinion would have been lost forever at such behaviour.
Kay walked through to the living room where Sophie and Beth were sitting with Les Miserable and offered everyone dinner. It was eagerly accepted, because everybody was too tired to bother changing and going out to dinner that evening. Kay was relieved, because it meant she’d be kept busy and have company too.
She was walking back to the kitchen when she heard Beth groan loudly.
‘God! Can you believe that today?’ she said. ‘Oli and Teresa! I’d never have guessed that in a million years.’
‘Well, you’d better start believing,’ Sophie said. ‘I hear they’re getting married.’
Kay’s hand flew to her mouth to stifle a scream.
‘All I can say is it’s about bloody time,’ Les Miserable said.
‘You knew they were a couple?’ Beth said.
‘Of course I bleedin’ knew.’
‘How?’
‘I’ve been working with Teresa for years. It’s been a well-kept secret from the media, I warrant you, but industry insiders have known what’s going on for ages.’
‘Blimey,’ Sophie said.
‘I wish someone had told me,’ Beth said. ‘It might have saved me hours of flirting.’
‘I reckon you would have flirted anyway,’ Sophie said.
‘And who could blame me? They’re not married, and what sort of relationship is it anyway, if they don’t want anyone to know about it?’
‘A private one,’ Sophie said. ‘Not everybody wants their love lives to be fodder for the national press.’
‘I think it’s really weird. Besides, Oli’s been messing around for years.’
‘Not anymore,’ Les said. ‘Not if Teresa has anything to do with it.’
There was a pause for a moment before Beth spoke again. ‘Oh, my God! Do you think Annabel is his daughter?’
‘Of course she is,’ Sophie said.
‘But she called him Oli all the time,’ Beth said.
‘Maybe she doesn’t know,’ Sophie said, ‘or maybe she’s under strict instructions not to call him “Daddy”. If I were Teresa’s daughter, I’d do exactly what I was told, wouldn’t you?’
‘God!’ Beth said. ‘How can Oli be in love with Teresa, of all people?’
‘There’s nothing stranger than love, and I’ve never seen such a passionate kiss in my whole life,’ Sophie said.
‘Don’t!’ Beth said. ‘It was disgusting.’
‘You’re just jealous that he wasn’t kissing you.’
Kay couldn’t bear to hear any more and hid in the kitchen to prepare dinner and then spent the rest of the evening cleaning pots that didn’t need cleaning before going to bed and crying herself to sleep, putting a merciful end to what was probably the worst day of her life.
When she drew her curtains the next morning, she wished she could go straight back to bed. She didn’t want to face the day ahead, because it was the day that everyone was leaving. This was the last breakfast she would prepare for the actors, and then they would be gone. If she wanted to see them again, she’d have to hire their films or watch them on television, but they’d never again sit on her sofa or pop their heads around the kitchen door asking for more coffee.
Breakfast was a quiet affair that morning. Les Miserable looked as glum as ever, and Beth looked pouty and petulant.
‘I don’t want to go to Bath,’ she complained, pushing the remains of her toast away from her.
‘I thought you’d like the shops,’ Gemma said. She’d come in late the night before, and Kay guessed she’d been with Rob.
‘I suppose there is that consolation. But why can’t we film it in London?’
Sophie looked at her as though she were quite mad. ‘You have read Persuasion, haven’t you? You can’t make a film version of Persuasion and not shoot in Bath.’
‘Oh, don’t be so exact. It doesn’t have to be Bath, does it, Les?’
‘Of course it has to be bloody Bath, you idiot. Jane Austen is Bath. You don’t hear of bloody Jane Austen’s London, do you? It’s Jane Austen’s Bath, isn’t it?’ he said.
Sophie and Gemma giggled.
Beth tutted in annoyance.
Kay left them to their debate.
‘Kay?’ a voice said about half an hour later. She turned around to see Gemma standing in the kitchen doorway, and she knew it would be for the last time. ‘We’re ready.’
Kay nodded and joined everyone in the hallway.
‘You’ve been the best host ever,’ Sophie said. ‘I wish we could take you with us to Bath.’
Kay smiled weakly. She’d wanted to go with them as well, until the day before. Now the thought of seeing Oli again was too much.
‘I’ll miss you, Sophie,’ Kay said. ‘Come back and visit, won’t you?’
Sophie nodded and gave her a big hug.
‘Bye, then,’ Beth said, giving Kay the briefest of hugs.
‘Ta
ke care of that ankle, won’t you?’ Kay said.
‘There’s nothing wrong with my ankle,’ Beth said.
Les Miserable moved forward and extended a hand. ‘Thanks for putting us up and putting up with us,’ he said without a glimmer of a grin.
‘You’re very welcome,’ Kay said.
And then there was Gemma.
‘I feel like Dorothy in the Wizard of Oz when she has to say good-bye to her new friends,’ Kay said with a sad smile.
‘Oh, don’t,’ Gemma said, ‘or you’ll start me off!’
The two hugged, and Kay felt tears threatening to spill.
‘Come on, come on,’ Les said. ‘Got to get a move on, or we’ll all be in trouble with you know who.’
‘Take care of yourself,’ Gemma said.
‘You too,’ Kay said. ‘And keep in touch, won’t you? Come and visit if you’re ever in Lyme Regis.’
‘I will,’ Gemma said.
Sophie, Beth, and Les were already out of the door, and when Gemma was quite sure she had a moment’s privacy, she doubled back.
‘Kay,’ she said, ‘Oli gave me this to give you, the rat!’ She handed her a little envelope. ‘I told him the least he could do was to give it to you himself, but he refused. Do you want me to stay whilst you open it? I could give him your reply, if you want.’
Kay shook her head, knowing that whatever was in there would probably make her cry, and Gemma had already seen enough of her tears.
Gemma gave her shoulder a quick squeeze. ‘If it’s any consolation, I told Oli exactly what I think of him.’
‘Gemma!’ Les’s voice bellowed from outside. ‘Get a bloomin’ move on!’
‘Got to go,’ Gemma said, and Kay gave a little smile and watched as her friend left. Kay then looked at the envelope with her name scrawled across it in blue ink and felt that there was something inside it—something round. Her heart skipped a beat for a moment and her imagination whirled in a direction she could hardly hope was real. Oli had left her a ring and a note of explanation. The whole scene on the Cobb with Teresa had been only an elaborate cover to fool the press. It wasn’t Teresa he loved. How could it be, when he was in love with Kay?
With shaking hands, Kay opened the envelope. Sure enough, there was a note, but there was no ring. She frowned as a shiny gold button fell into the palm of her hand. She examined it for a moment, not quite knowing what to make of it, and then she unfolded the sheet of paper, quickly reading the brief message.
Dear Kay—I hate leaving without saying a proper good-bye, but all this has happened so fast. I hope you will understand, and I know you will, because you are such a lovely girl.
I thought you might like the enclosed. It’s one of Captain Wentworth’s buttons, and it fell off during filming. I told the girl from costume it had rolled off the Cobb into the sea, so it won’t be missed. I had a feeling you might like it.
Love,
Oli x
Kay stared at the letter in disbelief and then read it through again. Was that it? Was that all she meant to him?
‘He knows I’ll understand!’ she shouted into the hallway. ‘It was okay to use me like that because I’d understand!’
She looked down at the little gold button in her hand.
‘I gave him my heart, and he gave me a bloody button!’
Chapter 43
After Adam received Gemma’s phone call, he wondered whether he should return to Lyme Regis straightaway and check on Kay, but he decided against it. The cast weren’t due to leave until the next day, and he guessed that Kay would be far too busy looking after them to need him barging in and offering a shoulder to cry on. He would wait; he would do his best to wait until the next day.
Nana Craig looked at him quietly as he sat down again.
‘That was Gemma from the film. She thinks I should go and see Kay. It seems Oli’s left without even saying good-bye.’
‘I told you!’ Nana Craig said, finishing her tea with an almighty slurp. ‘Didn’t I tell you he was no good?’
‘Nana, you think all actors are no good.’
‘Because it’s true! And especially him. The minute he walked up my garden path, I knew he was no good. A woman can tell that sort of thing. Well, I can, but it sounds like that poor dear girl can’t. But at least that makes things simple.’
‘How do you mean?’
‘I mean you can tell her how you feel about her now.’
‘Nana, I’m going to see if she’s okay—that’s all. She doesn’t want a big confession from me at the moment.’
‘Don’t you go blowing your opportunity a second time,’ Nana Craig said, wagging a warning finger at him. ‘This could be your last chance.’
Adam rolled his eyes. ‘Do you want another cup of tea?’
‘I want some great-grandchildren—that’s what I want.’
‘Yes, but I’m offering you a cup of tea,’ Adam said.
Nana Craig sighed. ‘If that’s all that’s on offer, I guess I’d better say yes.’
***
Half an hour later, Adam drove his nan home.
‘And don’t do that again, Nana. I don’t want to get home and find you on my doorstep again.’
‘What a fuss!’ she said, getting out of the car in a brilliant flash of red, blue, and pink. ‘Don’t you forget to go and see that girl now,’ she said, tapping the passenger door with her candy-striped walking stick.
‘I won’t forget. I’m going to see her first thing tomorrow.’
Nana Craig nodded. ‘Adam,’ she said.
‘Yes, Nana?’
‘I know I go on, and I know you don’t like me interfering, but I just want to see you happy, that’s all.’ She gave a little smile and her cheeks dimpled.
‘I know,’ Adam said. ‘I know you do.’
***
The rest of Adam’s day seemed to drag interminably, despite filling it with the endless phone calls he had to make. At one stage, Adam could no longer concentrate, so he got up, stuffed his feet into a pair of boots, and went out into the garden. Sir Walter followed him, his little pink nose high in the air.
‘I’m afraid you can’t come with me, old man. Back in the house with you.’ He scooped up the cat and took him into the house, locking the cat flap, and making his escape before Sir Walter could follow. What he was going to do was far too dangerous to risk a cat being around.
Somewhere in the tangle at the bottom of the garden stood a brick wall. It was crumbling and teetering, and Adam had been meaning to knock it down for weeks, but he had spent all his spare time renovating the cottage, and the garden had been shamefully neglected.
Finding the patch of ground where the wall stood, he cleared away the long grasses, grazing his arm on a bramble. Finally, the bricks were clear. They were a rather beautiful rosy red, and he was going to lay a path using them, but first the wall had to come down, and he was in just the right mood to do it. Opening the tiny shed, he picked up his sledgehammer, and walked across the garden to the wall. He took a deep breath and began.
It was hot work, and he was soon sweating. Pausing for a moment, he rolled up the sleeves of his shirt and undid a few buttons at the throat. It felt good to feel the air on his body. He needed to spend more time out of doors, for although his arms were far from pale, his job meant that he spent a lot of time in an airless, sunless office, which was good for neither mind nor body. Hard, physical work was what he needed right now, and although he knew he was benefiting from the workout, he also realised his motivation.
It was Oli Wade Owen.
Since Adam received the phone call from Gemma, he had been boiling with rage, because Oli’s actions had been totally unacceptable. From what he understood from Gemma, Oli’s behaviour had been abominable, and dear, sweet Kay had been heartbroken. How could somebody behave so callously towards somebody like Kay? Adam couldn’t get his head around it. What had Oli thought he was doing? He was obviously involved with Teresa, so what was he doing messing around with Kay?
&n
bsp; It wouldn’t be seemly for the screenwriter/producer to slug the leading man, and Adam was certainly no avenging angel, so here he was taking his anger out on an innocent brick wall. It was also an excellent way to fill in the time before he could see Kay and find out exactly what happened.
If she’ll talk to me, he thought. She might not want to see anyone. She might have denounced all men and barred the windows and doors of Wentworth House against them.
He stopped work for a moment, fear flooding his veins. What would he do if she wouldn’t see him?
‘Persist,’ he said. It’s what every good hero did, from Mr Darcy to Captain Wentworth. They waited and they persisted.
He hoped he wouldn’t have to wait too long, though. He was barely certain that he would be able to make it until the next day.
Chapter 44
Not long after Adam’s resident blackbird pierced the early morning with its radiant song, he awoke from a restless night’s sleep, and the first thought in his mind was that he would see Kay that day. If only he could be sure of it every day. How amazing his life would be with her in it—waking up in the morning to see her beautiful face on the pillow beside his, spending day after day with her fossil hunting on the beach, eating ice cream along the seafront, and cooking together in the evenings. But was life really meant to be that sweet? He’d had a tiny glimpse of what it might be with Kay, but life often had its own ideas, and Adam knew that he couldn’t let himself hope again. He’d made that mistake once before.
Still, as he drove into town, the sea sparkling with diamonds, he couldn’t help hoping. He was a writer, the sort of writer inclined to believe in happy endings.
Walking towards Wentworth House, he realised that he could barely remember a time when Kay hadn’t lived in Lyme Regis.
How dull and empty the seaside town must have been before she arrived. He remembered the first day he had seen her, walking into the estate agents, her face lit with a little smile and her toffee-coloured hair blowing in the breeze. He couldn’t have imagined how quickly he would fall in love with her, and the thought of his feelings not being returned was almost too much to bear.
Dreaming of Mr. Darcy Page 27