‘Please, Nana Craig—you have to tell me where he lives.’
‘Why?’
The question surprised Kay. ‘Because I have to speak to him. I have to tell him how I feel.’
‘And how do you feel?’
‘What?’ As much as Kay adored Nana Craig, she felt uneasy with the way the conversation was going and wasn’t at all sure she wanted to share the feelings of her heart with her.
‘How do you feel about my grandson?’
‘I… well, I… look!’ Kay sat forward slightly. ‘That’s for me to discuss with him. No disrespect—I mean, I know you two are very close, but I’d rather talk to him about all this.’
‘But he doesn’t want to see you,’ Nana Craig said.
‘What do you mean? He asked me to call him. He told me he—he loved me. How can he not want to see me?’
‘Because it doesn’t matter how he feels; it’s how you feel that matters here.’
‘But I love him,’ she said, realising it for the first time. ‘I love him.’
Nana Craig shook her head. ‘I thought you’d say that, but it’s more than likely just a knee-jerk reaction to what’s happened with that awful actor.’
‘No! It isn’t—I promise you!’ Kay was beginning to feel fractious. ‘I know what you think of me. I know I’ve made a huge mistake, but I want to put it right, and the only way I can do that is if I see Adam.’
Nana Craig stood up, her face tender but immovable. ‘Go home, Kay. Go and think things through. You’re not being fair to Adam.’
‘Doesn’t he love me anymore? What did he say?’
Nana Craig sighed. ‘He didn’t say much, but then again, he never does, but he’s hurting. I could tell he’s hurting.’
Tears pricked at Kay’s eyes. ‘Please—let me know where he is.’
Nana Craig’s bottom lip wobbled, and Kay felt sure she was about to relent, but she just shook her head. ‘Look, Kay, if you want my advice, you’ll leave this be for a while. Go home. Make that business of yours work. Have some time to yourself, and when you’re ready, when you’re really ready, speak to him.’
Kay didn’t say anything for a moment. She bit her lip, knowing she wanted to push this further. She also knew that Nana Craig wasn’t going to be pushed, so she left the little cottage.
As she walked down the pathway through the garden, she turned back and saw Nana Craig standing in the doorway, her face as pale and anxious as she was sure her own was. Kay didn’t like to admit it, but she knew there was some sense in what Nana Craig had said. She wasn’t being fair to Adam. She had just been thinking about herself, but it didn’t mean that her feelings were muddled and confused. She’d never felt more sure of anything in her life, and the thought of waiting to see Adam was unbearable. As she returned home, though, she had an idea. There was one way she was sure Adam would see her—and sooner rather than later, too. He’d promised to help her with her book, and he was a man of his word.
All she had to do was finish it.
Chapter 46
Kay wasn’t sure how many hours she spent finishing her paintings, but by the end of June, she had something she was happy with. Sitting at the dining room table, she surveyed her work. Adam was going to be surprised, wasn’t he?
Kay sat back in her chair for a moment. It was quite an achievement, and even if nobody else in the world so much as glanced at them, she could feel proud.
Now the question was what to do with them.
During the prior few weeks, Kay had followed Nana Craig’s advice and thrown herself into her work. Not only had she been working on her paintings, but she also made progress with the B&B, advertising it locally and nationally and creating her own website too. The bookings had come flooding in, and three of the rooms were booked now and the summer holidays looked as if the place was going to be very busy indeed. Her future in Lyme Regis seemed assured.
Other than leaving a message for Adam telling him that she was okay, though, she hadn’t spoken to Adam. Not that she hadn’t wanted to, but she respected Nana Craig’s advice and had given both him and herself time to think. She’d half expected to bump into him around town and was always disappointed when she didn’t. She’d spent hours walking around the harbour and the Cobb and on Monmouth Beach at low tide. She even drove to the beach at Charmouth a couple of times, hoping to see his figure bent double in search of fossils, but it was as if he disappeared from the world.
‘Like Oli,’ she said to herself. She hadn’t heard from him either, which didn’t come as a surprise. Since he’d gone, she hadn’t been able to look at her sketches of Captain Wentworth, because they all resembled Oli. She hid them all away in the chest at the end of her bed. She hadn’t been able to read Persuasion either, until the previous night.
This is ridiculous, she thought. How dare she let a man who obviously didn’t care a jot for her ruin one of her favourite reading pleasures, so she spent the entire evening reading her beloved book again, trying desperately not to picture Oli as Captain Wentworth. Instead, she imagined someone with dark hair and kind eyes. Someone who looked a lot like Adam.
Now, scraping her chair back, she raced to the phone in the hall. It was time to ring him. She picked up the phone and swallowed hard. She put the phone down again. Her throat had gone horribly dry. She ran through to the kitchen and quickly filled a glass of water, downing its contents, and then she returned to the phone. Why was this so difficult? Adam was her friend, wasn’t he? No, she thought, he wasn’t. They passed the barrier of friendship, and things were different.
‘But I can make this work,’ she said, picking up the phone again. ‘I have to make this work.’
She heard the phone ring and willed it not to go to voice mail. It didn’t.
‘Hello?’ a voice said. Adam’s voice.
‘Hello?’ Kay croaked.
‘Kay?’
‘Yes!’
‘How are you? I’ve been thinking about you.’
‘You have?’
‘Of course I have. I’ve been worried. You never called again,’ he said.
‘You never called again either!’ she said.
‘I thought you needed some time—you know,’ he said.
‘Yes, I guess I did.’
‘Is everything okay?’
‘It’s fine,’ she said. ‘I just wondered if I could see you.’
There was a lengthy pause, and Kay felt the full weight of it. He didn’t want to see her, did he?
‘Don’t worry,’ she said. ‘I understand.’ She was about to put the phone down when he interrupted her.
‘No, Kay! It’s just, I can’t get away from home. It’s Sir Walter. He’s on medication at the moment and is a bit groggy. I don’t want to leave him.’
Kay sighed in relief. ‘I can come out to you, if you like.’
‘Really?’
‘Except I don’t know where you live.’
Adam quickly told her the address, giving her some obscure directions involving wooded tracks she wasn’t to mistake for roads as well as cattle grids she wasn’t to drive over.
‘Are you sure I’ll find the place?’ she asked.
‘I hope you will,’ he said and it was encouragement enough.
‘Right,’ Kay said once she put the phone down. Her paintings were in tip-top order, but was she? She looked at herself in the hallway mirror, grimaced, and ran upstairs to run a brush through her hair, sending it into flyaway chaos. Next to go were the paint-splattered jeans and the shirt she’d put on once her bed and breakfast guests left for the day. She opened the wardrobe and had the usual dilemma of having absolutely nothing to wear. Making the best of a bad lot, she reached in and pulled out a white cotton dress printed with sepia flowers and butterflies. Placing her feet in a pair of pale gold sandals, she went back downstairs and put her paintings into a neat portfolio. She was ready.
Driving through the Marshwood Vale was far preferable a task in the day than it was at night. The woods were bright, and Kay looke
d in wonder at the acid-green beech trees that lined the lanes.
She was glad that she had Adam’s directions; otherwise she might have taken one or two wrong turns. The endless lanes were labyrinthine, and it would be easy to end up going around in circles, but finally spotting the cattle grid, she knew she’d reached her destination, Willow Cottage.
It was the sweetest house she’d ever seen. Okay, so it wasn’t picture perfect like Nana Craig’s thatched cottage, but it had a strength of character that was appealing with its rosy red bricks, sweet chimney pots, and tiny windows.
She parked the car behind Adam’s in the driveway and got out, straightening her dress and flattening her hair, which had no doubt gone flyaway again, as she’d been driving with her window open. Going around to the boot of the car, she opened it and retrieved her portfolio.
Adam had told her to go around to the back door, and she did, finding it open.
‘Hello?’ she called, popping her head into a tiny but bright kitchen. It had a terra-cotta tiled floor and pale wood cabinets, and Kay smiled as she saw a beautiful royal blue Aga iron stove. She could easily imagine early mornings in this kitchen, warming her bottom against the Aga whilst nursing a cup of tea in her hands and looking out across the garden to the fields.
I’m not to do this anymore, she told herself. I’m not to daydream! It’s real life for me from now on.
She took a deep breath and called again. ‘Adam?’
She heard the sound of footsteps on stairs somewhere in the heart of the cottage.
‘Kay?’ He appeared in the kitchen wearing an indigo shirt that made his eyes dark and intense behind his glasses. His hair looked damp.
‘I’ve just had a shower,’ he said. ‘Been digging in the garden.’ He nodded to a patch of bare earth. ‘There’s a lot of work to do.’
Kay turned around. ‘It’s a lovely garden,’ she said. ‘That’s one of the downsides of living in town—I have only a small courtyard with room for a washing line and a pot of geraniums.’
‘Come in!’ he said, staring at her portfolio. ‘What’s that?’
‘Some paintings,’ Kay said. ‘You said you’d take a look at them for me when they were ready.’
‘Oh, right,’ Adam said. ‘Of course.’ He led the way toward the dining room, but Kay didn’t get quite that far.
‘Oh, is this Sir Walter?’ she asked as a very furry animal wound its way around her legs.
‘Ah, yes—this is he.’
Kay bent down to tickle his head. ‘He’s gorgeous. How’s he feeling?’
‘Still a bit groggy, but he’s just had something to eat, which is a good sign.’
‘He’s not at all snooty like Sir Walter in Persuasion,’ Kay said.
‘That’s because he’s charming you,’ Adam told her. ‘But he does a very fine line in snooty, believe me.’
She followed Adam to the dining room, and Sir Walter decided that he would join them.
Adam motioned to the table, and Kay placed her portfolio on it, opening it up for his inspection. She twisted her fingers together as he flipped through the paintings. What would he think of them? Had she been fooling herself all these years with her dream of becoming an artist?
Adam’s forehead furrowed in concentration, and Kay bit her lip. His eyes looked intense, and she was anxious that it meant her work was no good, and he was trying to form the right words to tell her. Oh, God, she thought. I’ve made an absolute fool of myself. These silly watercolours should be no more than a hobby—a secret hobby I shouldn’t inflict on innocent people.
Finally Adam looked up. ‘These are lovely,’ he said. ‘All of them. They’re beautiful.’
‘You think so? You really think so? You’re not just saying that to be polite?’
‘No!’ he said. ‘Why would I do that? But what happened to the illustrations you were doing? I expected to see your book, The Illustrated Darcy.’
Kay waved her hand. ‘I put those away.’
Adam frowned. ‘I don’t understand.’
‘I’m afraid I got a bit disillusioned with fictional heroes. I think it’s time I stopped daydreaming about Mr Darcy and Captain Wentworth. I want to paint something real now, you know? I felt it was time to move on and explore something new.’
Adam nodded. ‘And they’re wonderful. Look how you’ve caught the Cobb here. The early morning light is perfect. And Monmouth Beach too. And this one of Charmouth. They’re all lovely, Kay.’
‘I’ve sold some too.’
‘Really?’
‘Just to guests,’ she said. ‘But I was wondering if you knew of any galleries around here that might be interested. That’s why I’m here.’ She stopped and looked down at the floor.
‘What is it?’ Adam asked her.
Taking a deep breath, Kay looked up at him. ‘That’s not why I’m here,’ she said. ‘Not really. I mean, I do want your advice, and I’d love to have your help with this, because I really don’t know what I’m doing, but it’s kind of an excuse to see you.’
‘Did you need an excuse?’ he asked. ‘I told you to call me whenever you wanted. You don’t need an excuse, Kay.’
‘But Nana Craig told me you need some space—you know—after the film crew left.’
‘Did she?’
Kay nodded. ‘And I guessed that was true when you didn’t call me again.’
‘But I thought you needed some space.’
‘I guess I did, but I really wanted to see you too.’
‘And I wanted to see you.’ He smiled a beautiful shy smile. ‘Look,’ he said after a pause, ‘I’ve been wanting to say sorry about—well, I shouldn’t have—you know—made a move on you.’
‘You didn’t!’ Kay said. ‘I made a move on you. I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have done that. I mean, I should have, because you’re wonderful and—’ She covered her face with her hands. ‘Oh, I’m making such a mess of this!’
Adam took a step towards her. ‘No, you’re not.’
‘It’s just that I don’t know what to say to you. I feel so embarrassed about the way I’ve behaved.’
‘You don’t need to be embarrassed,’ he said, ‘and you don’t need to keep apologising either.’
‘But I do! I’ve been rude to you, Adam, and blind too! And you’ve been nothing but kind to me. I don’t know how I didn’t see it before. I guess I was so busy trying to fix you up with Gemma that I didn’t see how perfect you were for me.’
They stared at each other for a long moment, and Kay abruptly felt very shy. Adam was the first one to speak.
‘I know I’m not a hero,’ he said. ‘I know I’m not in the same mould as the Oli Wade Owens of the world.’
‘But that’s a good thing,’ Kay interrupted. ‘I don’t think I was ever really in love with Oli. I think it was Captain Wentworth I fell for.’ She sighed. ‘Anyway, I fictionalised Oli. I turned him into a hero that he clearly wasn’t. Or at least, he wasn’t my hero. I don’t know—I seem to have spent my life fantasising about fictional men. But I want something real now. I want something—’ She paused, but she never got the chance to finish her sentence, because Adam stepped forward and took her face in his hands and kissed her.
Kay felt herself sway; not because she was tipsy this time, but because she was deliriously happy.
‘Was that real enough for you?’ Adam asked a moment later.
Kay laughed in surprise. ‘I’m—I’m not sure. I think you might have to run that by me again.’
And so he did.
Chapter 47
Three months later
Kay and Adam walked along the Cobb hand in hand. It was a cool September morning, and Kay stuffed her other hand in the pocket of her jacket. Her fingers found a small round metal object, and she instantly knew what it was. It was Captain Wentworth’s button. She took it out and glanced at it briefly before throwing her arm back and flinging it into the sea below them.
‘What was that?’ Adam asked.
‘My past,’ Kay said, an
d she rested her head on his shoulder for a moment.
She felt him kiss the top of her head, and she pictured them walking along the Cobb together in the years to come. She could just imagine two little children—miniature images of themselves with their tiny hands clasped in theirs. Maybe they would even bring grandchildren here one day with her and Adam shuffling along the length of the Cobb behind their Zimmer frames.
Kay shook her head. She was daydreaming again, and she’d said she wouldn’t do it anymore, because it had got her into far too much trouble in the past. But it’s different this time, she told herself, because—and she was quite sure about this—she had got things right at last.
‘Ready to go back?’ Adam asked her. ‘There’s a bit of a breeze picking up.’
‘Let’s just walk to the end first,’ she said. ‘And then you can jump me down the steps.’
Adam’s eyebrows rose. ‘Are you sure you want to do that? I mean, aren’t you tempting fate a little bit?’
Kay shook her head. ‘No,’ she said. ‘I know you’ll catch me.’
Chapter 1
Sarah Castle wasn’t in the habit of blindfolding people, but her sister’s twenty-first birthday was a delightful exception. As she drove through the winding lanes of Devon, she glanced quickly at Mia. She did look funny with the red polka-dotted scarf tied around her eyes and her curly dark hair flattened into submission.
Slowing down to take a bend in the road, Sarah tried to think how she’d spent her own twenty-first birthday. With a nine-year gap between them, Mia would have been just twelve and had probably been at school.
I would have just finished university, Sarah thought, remembering that summer. It had been the summer their mother had walked out on them and the summer Sarah’s role had changed. There had been no note of explanation and no telephone call to check up on them. It was as if Monica Castle had decided she’d completed her role as a mother and moved on to other things somewhere else. Of course, neither of their fathers wanted to know, although the occasional check arrived to pay the rent and assuage some guilt.
Dreaming of Mr. Darcy Page 29