A Seaside Affair

by Fern Britton

  ‘Look, Sis, Ryan leaving is a blow. But he was holding you back, not the other way around.’ They were sitting outside at a fabulous new fish restaurant that had opened on the harbour. ‘You’ll see, it will all be great now. I can feel it. Ryan didn’t want the same things that you did. Or if he did, it was with a layer of fake Hollywood veneer slicked over it.’

  ‘Do you think he and Serena will get married and have kids?’ Jess asked. It still worried her that she had left that side of things too late. Forty wasn’t that far away.

  ‘Maybe, but who cares if he does? They’ll only spawn another generation of selfish bastards like themselves.’

  Jess laughed. ‘Come on, let’s have another glass of wine – d’you think Max will let us?’

  Max was sitting between them and seemed to be engrossed in drawing pictures of a rather frightening-looking scarecrow. ‘Look, Mummy – I’ve drawn Daddy!’

  ‘Oh dear, poor Daddy.’ Emma and Jess laughed at Max, his face screwed up in concentration.

  ‘Let’s risk it.’

  ‘And what about Jonathan?’ Emma asked as the waiter brought them each another glass of Cabernet Sauvignon.

  ‘I don’t know what you mean,’ Jess replied, a blush creeping into her cheeks.

  ‘Don’t come the innocent with me. I’ve seen the way he looks at you. You could do worse than give him a try, you know. I wish someone would look at me like that, once in a while.’

  ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about! Anyway, I seem to have made a mess of everything. I don’t want to mess it up for Jonathan as well, he’s too good.’

  ‘Time waits for no woman, my girl. Remember, you’re not going to be scared of life any more. Promise me.’

  ‘I promise.’ And Jess decided that this time, she really meant it.

  *

  Sitting in her dressing room, Jess looked at the photograph of herself with Ollie and Brooke that was propped up on her dressing table and smiled. The Three Musketeers. She didn’t know whether they would stay friends for life. Or even if they would be friends this time next year. But those two had got her through some pretty sticky moments.

  There was a tap on the door and Jonathan popped his head round.

  ‘Ready for the final curtain call?’ Registering her pensive face, he came in, shut the door and sat down beside her. ‘Something wrong?’

  ‘No, not wrong exactly.’ Jess took Jonathan’s hand in her own. ‘Jonathan, I know how you feel about me and I just want to say something.’

  Jonathan’s steady gaze met hers. ‘I think I know what you’re going to say.’

  ‘Jonathan, I’m not sure that you …’

  He held his hand up. ‘Look, we’ve had a wonderful, crazy rollercoaster of a ride and I wouldn’t have missed it for the world, but I realise that I’m not what you’re after and I understand. My offer still stands to work on Blithe Spirit and I won’t get in your way or bother you – we’ll be complete professionals, OK?’

  ‘But, I was going to say—’

  ‘Jess, you don’t have to decide right now. Let’s talk at the party.’ He gave her hand a quick squeeze and then got up to go. ‘By the way, I don’t know the details, but I’m told something pretty spectacular is on the cards for later, so prepare yourself.’

  With that he was gone.

  Jess sighed at her reflection in the mirror.

  ‘Men!’

  *

  The final performance of Hats Off, Trevay! was a resounding success. The loudest cheers and the longest standing ovation was saved, of course, for Colonel Stick. Jess found that she had tears rolling down her cheeks as the cast took their lengthy encores.

  Ollie started a call for ‘Director, Director!!’ and Jonathan was hauled up on stage, against his wishes. Jess saw his chest swell with pride as his loyal team of actors and crew cheered him until they were hoarse.

  Backstage, the atmosphere was like a carnival. All of the actors were hugging and embracing each other, making short-lived declarations of lifelong friendship. In the hubbub, Jess felt herself clasped in a huge bear hug, arms all around her. It was Ollie and Brooke.

  ‘You’re just amazing, Jess. Promise me that we’ll always be friends. I know I’ve been a wanker – forgive me?’

  ‘Of course. I couldn’t ask for two better friends.’

  Brooke hurried them along. ‘Let’s get out of these costumes, I need a drink!’

  *

  After putting in an appearance at the crew’s party, the cast decamped to the Starfish, where there was more partying. It seemed that Trevay’s great and good had turned out in force for the occasion.

  ‘Here’s to us!’ said Brooke.

  ‘Hear hear!’ agreed Ollie. ‘One for all and all for one, right?’

  ‘You bet!’ agreed Jess, draining her Cosmopolitan and swiping another one from a passing waiter with a full tray.

  Jonathan and the Colonel came over to join them.

  ‘You’re a triumph, my dear boy,’ the Colonel was telling Jonathan. ‘You’ve done almost as well as my Peter. Almost, but not quite!’ His eyes twinkled.

  ‘He’s an impossible act to follow.’

  Miss Coco interrupted them. ‘You’re more of a triumph than you realise – here look at this.’

  He thrust an early edition of tomorrow’s newspaper in front of them.

  ‘Here, let me read it out,’ said Jess.

  Hats Off, Trevay! playing at the threatened Pavilions in the eponymous Cornish seaside town is nothing short of a triumph. Under the excellent direction of Jonathan Mulberry, Hats Off has reinvented the musical tradition. By turns funny, uplifting and poignant, the age-old cliché of boy meets girl has been given a new lease of life by a cast and director who are at the top of their game. It’s Hats Off indeed, and let’s hope that we’ll soon see a transfer to the West End for this superlative production …

  ‘Oh, Jonathan – you’re a genius!!’ Jess threw her arms around him and gave him a full kiss on the mouth. He blushed, but before he had a chance to speak, a tinkle of metal on glass signalled that the speeches were about to begin.

  ‘Hush now, let’s listen,’ said Jess as she squeezed his hand.

  Simon Canter took the stage.

  ‘Thank you all for coming tonight, and thanks to all of the cast and crew for making Hats Off, Trevay! such a roaring success. We couldn’t have done any of this without the help and support of the people of Trevay. We’ve shown that when push comes to shove, we’re made of true grit.’

  This was greeted by a chorus of whoops and whistles from the packed Starfish terrace.

  ‘I’m sure you’re all wondering what is going to happen to the Pavilions now. Well, today we’ve had some wonderful news that will take us one step closer to securing the future of the Pavilions for decades to come. Penny, would you like to tell us what this is all about.’

  Penny stepped on to the stage and addressed the familiar faces.

  ‘Yes, Simon. As you know, the big problem has always been finding the money to keep that amazing building going long beyond the life of Hats Off. I’m delighted to tell you all that today, with the blessing of the Colonel, I have secured a deal for the film rights. As of next summer, Hats Off, Trevay! will be going into production – and I’d like you to meet the director and star.’ Penny paused for dramatic effect.

  ‘Mr Richard Gere!’

  There was a moment’s stunned silence as the audience drank in what Penny had said. They watched, stunned, as an impossibly handsome, silver-haired screen icon took to the stage and gave them a friendly wave.

  ‘Ladies and gentlemen, it’s an honour to be here and I hope to do justice to this great play and the story of how a small group of people can take on and beat big business.’

  The Starfish erupted in cheers and shouts, and soon Richard Gere was surrounded by the people of Trevay, eagerly pumping his hand and desperate to get a sprinkling of his Hollywood magic.

  ‘Mr Gere, there’s someone I’d really like you to
meet,’ said Penny, gently leading him away from the throng and introducing him to a flushed and flustered Joan Goodman, whose legs were shaking like a schoolgirl’s.

  *

  Jess was feeling pleasantly piddled as she chatted to Jonathan and Ollie.

  ‘Who would have thought it! Richard Gere, a Hollywood film, a West End show and the Colonel’s film archive. We’re going to be the talk of the showbiz world.’

  ‘Let’s hope so. We asked for a miracle and now we’ve more than one! Here’s to the power of prayer.’ Jess clinked glasses with them both.

  ‘Where’s Brooke, Ollie?’ asked Jess.

  ‘Over there.’

  They followed Ollie’s finger as he pointed to Richard Gere, engrossed in conversation with a sparking and animated Brooke, who seemed to be giving it ‘Brooke Lynne’ for all she was worth.

  Eventually he extricated himself and came to say his quiet goodbyes to Penny, Simon and the Colonel. He took Penny’s hand and looked into her eyes with a warm gaze that melted her tough business heart.

  ‘Penny, I can’t wait to work with you guys. We’re gonna have a lot of fun.’ He kissed her on both cheeks then turned to the two men.

  ‘Simon, it’s been a pleasure to meet you and the Colonel, without you I wouldn’t be here. Hold on to your hat, you’re about to be a big star all over again. Are you ready for it?’

  The Colonel stood upright and proud. ‘Mr Gere, I’m of the generation that goes down fighting.’

  ‘Glad to hear it, but we’re not going down, we’re going up – all the way to the Oscars, I hope.’ The small group laughed and shook hands with the Hollywood legend before he slipped away, unnoticed.

  Penny leant against Simon. ‘Oh my God, he’s gorgeous!’

  Brooke came over, slightly tiddly, ‘Where’s Richard gone? We were getting on really well. I want to buy him a drink.’

  Penny, pulling away from Simon, put her arms around her ambitious friend. ‘You and me both, Brooke, you and me both.’

  *

  Ollie, sitting with Jonathan and Jess, watched Brooke gather up her bags and walk unsteadily out of the room. She saw Ollie, blew him a kiss and a wink before walking out of his life forever. He sighed and took a long slug from his Manhattan cocktail.

  ‘Hats Off, Trevay! Boy meets girl, messes it up, meets another, gets messed up, then the circle begins all over again. Just another crazy day in the acting profession. Right, Jonathan?’

  Ollie slapped Jonathan good-naturedly on the back then rose unsteadily towards the bar, where a number of pretty and tipsy young women threw themselves at him.

  ‘Actors, eh? Present company excepted, of course.’

  ‘Jonathan …’

  ‘Look, Jess, what I said earlier: let’s just try and behave like nothing ever happened …’

  ‘Nothing has ever happened.’

  ‘I know … but … well, what I’m saying is—’

  ‘Jonathan, please be quiet. There is a time for talking and a time for being quiet.’ She took his face in her hands. ‘Guess what the time is now?’

  ‘Er?’

  ‘Men! You’re never ready, are you?’

  And with that, she gave him the kiss of his life.

  42

  Penny was awake early and brought him his birthday tea and toast in bed. Simon was astonished. In all the time he’d been married to her, this had never happened before.

  ‘Thank you,’ he said, taking a sip of tea.

  ‘Well, it is your birthday. And here’s something else …’

  She handed him the gaily coloured box containing the keys to his new car.

  He took it and she crossed her fingers ostentatiously.

  ‘Why are you doing that?’ he asked, picking at the sellotape.

  ‘I’m a bit scared you might be cross with me.’

  He gave her a funny little frown and continued to unwrap his present. He found the keys and turned them over in his hand. Eventually he said, ‘I hope these aren’t what I think they are.’

  Before she could answer there was the toot of a car horn in the vicarage driveway. Penny looked worried. Simon got out of bed and walked to the window. Looking down he saw the roof of a gleaming, black, brand-new Volvo estate.

  ‘Is that my present?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘I see.’

  He put his dressing gown and slippers on and Penny followed him as he went downstairs and opened the front door. The garage man was on the step, about to knock.

  ‘Ah! Mornin’, Vicar and ’appy birthday.’ He held out the second set of keys. Simon walked past him and towards the new car. He stood looking at it and then tentatively opened the boot. ‘It’s very big,’ he said.

  ‘Yes,’ said Penny.

  He walked to the driver’s door, opened it and got in.

  ‘All ’lectric seats. Fully adjustable and heated. Your missus wanted the best for you,’ said the delivery driver.

  ‘It’s very comfortable,’ said an expressionless Simon. He reached towards the rear-view mirror and adjusted it. Then he stopped, astonished at what he could see. He turned round and looked at the back seat. Fitted snugly behind the passenger seat was a baby’s car seat. He frowned. ‘Does that come as standard?’ He looked at Penny.

  ‘Ah. No. I have another little surprise for you.’ She took a deep breath. ‘We’re going to be parents.’

  It took a moment for the penny to drop, then he leapt out of the car and hugged her tightly, all the while saying, ‘It’s a miracle. Oh, thanks be to God! It’s another miracle.’

  ‘All right, all right,’ protested Penny. ‘I’m not that old.’

  ‘You must get back into bed. You need to rest. How long have you known? When is it due?’

  ‘Firstly, I do not need to get back to bed. Secondly, I am fourteen weeks into a forty-week pregnancy, so we should have this baby around Easter.’

  They turned at the sound of Simon’s old Volvo coughing and spluttering to life. The delivery man had somehow managed to get it started first time and with a cheery wave he drove it away, eager to share the baby gossip with his wife and colleagues.

  *

  Penny and Simon couldn’t wait to share their good news. First to hear were Helen and Piran, who came round immediately for a celebratory cup of something non-alcoholic.

  Simon was so excited about the baby he couldn’t stop asking Penny questions and jumping up and down with offers of tea or water or a blanket to cover her legs.

  ‘Darling,’ she said, ‘I do hope you’re not going to be like this for the duration. It’s exhausting me more than being pregnant.’

  ‘I hope you’re going to make me a fairy godmother,’ said Helen over a Jaffa Cake.

  ‘Of course, who else?’ The two friends exchanged a hug.

  ‘It will be wonderful to have a child around the vicarage.’ Simon’s eyes suddenly lit up. ‘Do you think it could be twins?’

  ‘Don’t even suggest it.’

  There was a rattle at the front door signalling the arrival of the post.

  Simon gave Penny a kiss on the top of her head and went to collect it. Back in the kitchen, he looked at the letters in his lap. Two rather smart-looking ones for Penny, a brochure with a desperate-looking African farmer sifting through barren dry soil for him, and one addressed to the Chairman of the Save the Pavilions Committee.

  God had moved in a mysterious way.

  ‘Today of all days! Look, we’ve had a letter from the council.’

  The others stopped their excited chatter.

  ‘Well, stop gawping, man! Read it out,’ urged Piran.

  Simon smoothed the letter between his fingers and read:

  Dear Reverend Canter,

  We the Council write to you in your capacity as Chairman of the Save the Pavilions Committee.

  As you know, the planning committee held every Thursday of each second month was preparing to pass judgement on the appeal your committee had lodged, re the new usage of the Pavilions Theatre Buildin
g Trevay …

  Penny huffed impatiently. ‘For God’s sake, their letter writing is as pompous as themselves.’

  ‘Wait, my love. It gets better.’ Simon carried on reading:

  Café Au Lait, the multinational coffee chain and prospective buyers, have informed us that they have decided against coming to Trevay. The reason for this needs no explanation.

  The council are now in the position of having to determine what the future of the Pavilions will be. We are aware of further developments that will impact on this decision. Not least the success of the recent production, coupled with a cash injection that has been provided by the sale of the film rights to the production, kindly donated in their entirety by Colonel Walter Irvine.

  ‘Good old Colonel Stick!’ Helen clapped her hands.

  It has therefore been decided, by a unanimous vote, that the management of the Pavilions should stay in the hands of the Save the Pavilions Committee for an interim period, to be decided, then pass to a committee of trustees, the representatives of which will be appointed by public vote. This is subject to certain caveats and legal procedures. We also expect that the committee will apply for lottery funding to further secure the future of the site.

  We hope that you are in agreement that this is a satisfactory conclusion for all parties.

  Yours sincerely

  Joan Goodman

  Leader of Trevay Council

  Simon looked up and smiled at Penny. ‘Darling – our prayers are answered!’

  ‘You’ll have to put yourself on that board of trustees, Simon.’

  ‘And you, Piran,’ said Simon.

  Piran rolled his eyes. ‘Never wanted to save the bloody thing in the first place. Still think we should let the ’ole lot fall into the sea.’

  Before he could carp any further, Helen threw a tea cosy at his head.

  *

  By March, spring had sprung and Penny was as big as a house, due to give birth in a matter of weeks. She and Helen were in the bar of the National Film Theatre in London’s South Bank, with Colonel Stick, Jonathan, Jess and Ollie. It was a momentous occasion. The NFT had bought Colonel Stick’s remaining unsold archive and saved it for the nation. Such was the importance of the rare and fascinating footage, a sixty-minute documentary had been made and was now on limited release. Tonight was its premiere and a glittering array of actors and industry people had turned out. Colonel Irvine was barely able to take a sip of his drink, such was the interest he generated. Every few minutes a famous actor or director would come over and shake his hand like a long-lost friend.