The Perfect Hero
Page 15
‘I thought maybe I’d get a bit of lunch somewhere. There’s meant to be an amazing pub out near Beaminster. I thought we might have a spin up that way and see what all the fuss is about.’
‘We?’ Kay said.
‘We,’ Oli said. ‘You and me. How about it?’
Kay nodded enthusiastically.
‘Well, I suppose you’d better feed this lot first and do whatever you’ve got to do.’
‘Okay,’ she said.
‘How’s about I see you in the front room at eleven?’
Kay grinned at him, his brief affair with Beth banished from her brain. It wasn’t Beth he was interested in at all – it was her!
Chapter Twenty-Three
Eleven o’clock couldn’t come round quickly enough for Kay. She whizzed around Wentworth House, vacuuming, dusting, scrubbing and tidying like a thing possessed. Finally, at twenty to eleven, she took off her pinny. It was time to get herself ready.
She had the quickest of showers because she was sure she smelt of bacon and cleaning products and that wasn’t the most romantic of combinations. But then came the problem of what to wear. She had to get this right. Her whole life might depend on it.
‘You know when I decided I was going to propose to you?’ Oli would tell her in future years. ‘That moment you came into the front room for our first date wearing that amazing—’
‘WHAT?’ Kay screamed in the here and now. Amazing what? She didn’t have anything amazing.
She flung open the wardrobe door in the hope that she’d overlooked something and stared gloomily at the contents. It was the usual problem: a packed wardrobe but absolutely nothing to wear.
‘I’ll just have to make do,’ she said, pulling out a blue cotton dress which was sprigged with tiny pink roses. It wasn’t the stuff of sex symbols but it was sweet. She then grabbed the hairdryer to work as much magic into her mop as she could in the time available and hoping her toffee-coloured tresses wouldn’t become too flyaway. Then a quick application of make-up and she was almost done. Just shoes and she knew just the pair. Last summer, she’d bought a pair of strappy silver shoes that were more like jewellery than shoes. She’d known their day would come and she placed her dainty feet into them now and sighed, hoping that sheer stockings and strappy shoes weren’t tempting those rain clouds again.
Grabbing her handbag, she took a deep breath and left the room, venturing down the stairs for her date with Oli. And there he was, pacing up and down the hallway, his blond hair bright against a sky-blue shirt, the sleeves rolled up to reveal a pair of strong, tanned arms.
‘Hello,’ she said, her mouth suddenly feeling quite dry.
He turned around, his bright eyes appraising her. ‘Oh,’ he said. ‘You look lovely, really.’
‘What’s wrong?’ Kay asked, dismayed by the look on his face.
‘Nothing – nothing’s wrong. It’s just – well, you look like you.’
Kay’s face fell. She knew she’d never be as beautiful as the actresses Oli was used to being seen with but she thought she’d scrubbed up pretty well, considering the lack of notice he’d given her.
‘I didn’t put that very well,’ Oli said. ‘I mean – we have to disguise you. There are paps everywhere.’
‘Are there?’ Kay said, looking around as if a telephoto lens might suddenly poke through the letterbox.
Oli nodded. ‘I’m afraid they’ve got wind I’m here.’
‘Oh, dear.’
‘Exactly, and if they get a picture of you, it’ll be all over the papers.’
Kay didn’t think that sounded too bad at all. In fact, the idea rather appealed to her. She could just see it now.
Oli’s Mystery Girl, the headline would read and there’d be a photo of the two of them driving off together. Or one of them running into the restaurant together, Oli’s arm protectively around her shoulder.
Speculation has arisen over the girl the handsome star is dating and there are even rumours that the two of them are engaged. Could this be the future Mrs Wade Owen?
‘So you see,’ Oli said, ‘we’ll have to disguise you because we can’t possibly have them knowing who you are. It’s for your own privacy.’
‘Oh,’ Kay said reluctantly, her imagined headlines evaporating. ‘I see.’
‘Leave it to me,’ Oli said and he ran up the stairs two at a time and knocked on Beth’s door. Kay followed him, wondering what he was up to. Beth hadn’t come downstairs yet that morning and was still resting her ankle. At least, she was meant to be resting but Kay still didn’t know what had been going on in her room the night before. If Oli had spent the night in there, she was very doubtful that rest would have been much of a priority.
‘Beth? It’s Oli.’
It was the only password needed for the door was opened almost instantaneously.
‘What is it, Oli?’ Beth said with a sweet smile. She was wearing full make-up despite being an invalid and Kay could see that her hair had been blow-dried.
‘We need that wig of yours.’
‘Wig?’ Beth said. ‘I don’t wear wigs. Not unless I’m filming.’
‘Come on, Beth. I’ve seen it. It’s in your suitcase.’
Beth sighed. ‘That’s a hairpiece, Oli. Quite a different thing. Everyone’s wearing them these days. Some women wouldn’t even put out the trash unless they had their hair-piece in.’
‘Yeah, yeah. Let’s just have it.’
‘What for?’
‘For Kay. We’ve got to disguise her.’
Beth frowned. ‘Why?’
‘We’re going out to lunch and we need to hide her identity from the press.’
‘But I’ll need to wear it if we’re going out to lunch.’
Oli looked uncomfortable for a moment. ‘I’m taking Kay out to lunch,’ he said slowly, testing the waters.
‘I see,’ Beth said. ‘I’m not invited. I’m just the invalid who can be left alone all day with no company.’
‘Come on, Beth, don’t be like that. We’re always having lunch together.’
‘Yeah, with about a dozen extras and all the crew!’
‘Can we borrow the wig? Please! I’ll owe you big time!’
‘God, Oli! You’re the limit. You really are.’
Beth disappeared back into the room and came back brandishing the red hairpiece. ‘Be careful with it. It cost me a fortune.’
‘We will. Don’t worry. Now help us with it, will you? And that nice blue dress of yours.’
‘Not the Versace!’
‘The very one.’
‘Oli!’
‘Please!’
Beth gave a gargantuan sigh before going to fetch her things.
Ten minutes later, Kay was transformed. The blue dress was slinky and sexy and skimmed over her figure in a most alluring way. Her own hair had been tied up into a tight bun on the top of her head and the red hairpiece had been carefully pinned around her face and then everything had been squashed into submission by a hat.
‘Sunglasses!’ Oli said. ‘Those nice big blue-framed ones of yours.’
‘Oli, no! They’re my Tiffanys.’
Oli’s eyes looked up at her, pleading. ‘You would be doing me such a huge favour. I’d really owe you.’
‘You always owe me,’ Beth said sulkily, hobbling back into the room on her dodgy ankle and emerging with the prized glasses.
‘Just don’t lose them or break them.’ She handed them to Oli who gave them to Kay.
‘Thanks, Beth,’ Kay said, opening the box and eyeing the beautiful glasses. She’d never seen anything so lovely and she was a little afraid to put them on.
‘Go on,’ Oli encouraged.
Kay put them on and smiled. ‘Okay?’
‘Wow!’ Oli said. ‘You look like Audrey Hepburn.’
‘Only with red hair and a squashy hat,’ Beth added.
‘Do I look okay?’
‘You’ll do,’ Oli said, ushering her down the stairs. Catching her reflection in the hall mirror, Kay
gasped. She looked like a movie star! Versace dress. Tiffany glasses. It was something she could never have imagined. Well, she could have imagined it – after all, she had a pretty wild imagination. But it seemed even crazy by her own very ambitious standards. One minute she’d been washing dishes and cleaning bathrooms and the next she was dressed like a princess and being escorted to lunch by the most handsome man in the world.
She stole a quick glance at him as he opened the door for her.
‘How many are there?’ she asked.
‘How many what?’
‘Paparazzi?’
‘Oh,’ Oli said, ‘I don’t know. I think they’re hiding.’
Kay followed him out and looked eagerly up and down Marine Parade. There were the usual tourists in search of sustenance but she couldn’t see any telephoto lenses. She pouted.
‘Come on,’ Oli said. ‘Let’s get to the car before anyone sees us.’
Oli had donned a pair of glasses and had turned the collar of his jacket up and had his head down but he was still unmistakably Oli Wade Owen. Kay rushed along in her strappy shoes, trying to keep up with him. The sky was looking ominously thundery. There were some heavy clouds hanging over the Cobb and the sea looked as if it were holding a deep dark secret.
‘Here we are,’ Oli said as they reached his car. It was an electric blue Lotus Elise and Kay couldn’t help but be excited at the thought of being a passenger in such a vehicle.
The unknown redhead was seen getting in Oli Wade Owen’s infamous Lotus Elise, her shapely legs revealed by her Versace dress.
Kay could just imagine the magazine reports as she settled into the smooth leather seat and checked out her reflection in the wing mirror. She was incognito!
‘Okay?’ he said.
She nodded and they both buckled up.
The car sped up Cobb Road and headed out of Lyme Regis and into the countryside and Kay tried to sit back and relax but it was nigh on impossible. She still couldn’t believe that he’d asked her out.
‘This is wonderful!’ she said, giving him a smile.
Oli’s gaze didn’t shift from the road which was very comforting as a passenger but was rather disconcerting as a woman.
‘It’s a real treat,’ she said.
‘Pardon?’
‘I said this is a real treat – to be taken to lunch.’
‘Oh,’ he said. ‘Right.’
He didn’t sound too enthusiastic but perhaps he was tired. He didn’t get much free time, did he?
Kay settled back in her seat and adjusted the red hair-piece above her left temple. It felt like it was slipping. She looked in the wing mirror. She wasn’t at all sure about herself as a redhead. She’d had visions of being transformed into a beautiful Pre-Raphaelite nymph but she couldn’t help feeling that she looked more like a slightly baffled Red Setter. The hat wasn’t helping either and the glasses – which she’d thought were beautiful at first – were far too big for her face.
‘Can I take it all off now?’ she said.
‘What?’
‘The disguise?’
‘No,’ Oli said abruptly. ‘We don’t want anyone recognising you.’
‘But I don’t think anyone’s followed us,’ she said, looking behind them at the empty country lane.
‘You can never be too sure.’
Kay pursed her lips. Wasn’t he being just a little bit paranoid? They hadn’t seen another vehicle since that mucky tractor and nobody could keep up with Oli anyway – not at the speed he was driving at. In fact, Kay was starting to get a bit nervous. The lanes were narrowing and the hedgerows were flashing by at an inhuman speed.
‘Oli?’
‘Yes?’
‘Can we slow down?’
‘You want to get there in time, don’t you? I’ve got to be back for three or Teresa will kill me.’
Of course she wanted to get there in time but she also wanted to get there in one piece.
As they took a corner, Oli slammed on the brakes. The torrential rain of the past few days had turned the little roads around the Marshwood Vale into rivers and the way ahead of them was flooded.
‘Will your car be all right?’
‘Course it will,’ Oli said. ‘This baby can cope with anything.’ He revved the engine and Kay watched as he slowly built up a bit of speed before plunging the car through the water. A huge spray cascaded over the wheels and Kay giggled.
‘Told you!’ he said. ‘Wasn’t that fun? Like one of those theme park rides only faster!’
Kay nodded. She felt rather like a teenager on a first date. She looked over her shoulder as the flooded lane vanished behind them but it wasn’t long before they reached the next. This time, the water stretched as far as they could see and there was no telling how deep it was.
‘Perhaps we should go back,’ Kay said.
‘You’re joking!’ Oli said. ‘We can’t go back now. We’re nearly there.’
‘Yes, but this looks deep to me.’
‘Nonsense,’ Oli said. ‘It’s just a big puddle.’
Once again, he revved the engine.
‘Oli, I really think we should go back.’
He took his sunglasses off and smiled at her and she could see that there was absolutely no way he was going to do anything other than drive full speed ahead through the flood.
‘Hold on to your hat!’ he said but Kay’s hands were firmly gripping the edge of her seat as the Lotus gained speed.
This isn’t a good idea. This isn’t a good idea, she chanted as the water approached.
‘Slow down!’ she shouted but Oli didn’t seem to be listening. He was locked in complete concentration as if he were playing some addictive computer game and the rest of the world didn’t exist. It was just him and the flood.
The Lotus hit the water and Kay closed her eyes as the windows and bonnet were drenched.
‘Wow!’ Oli shouted. ‘Did you see that?’
The sound of water filled Kay’s ears and she sat perfectly still for a moment before she dared to open her eyes.
‘Is it over?’ she asked. They were completely surrounded by water but the car didn’t seem to be moving. ‘Oli? What’s happened?’
‘I don’t know,’ he said, frowning. ‘I think I might have just wrecked the car.’
Chapter Twenty-Four
Much to Gemma’s horror, Kim Reilly was still hanging around Lyme Regis and had insisted on accompanying everyone in the minibus to shoot that morning’s Uppercross scenes.
‘You won’t even know I’m there,’ she’d told Gemma, clutching her arm and laughing. But, of course, that was an empty promise. Kim Reilly could go nowhere without making her presence felt. Even a simple trip to the local newsagents to get the morning’s paper was a scene of great theatricality with make-up and hair in place and a thousand anecdotes to tell any passer-by who might be interested. It couldn’t be helped – it was just the sort of person she was. Gemma remembered once looking through an old photo album at her grandmother’s. Virtually all the photos had been of her mother – not because they’d been taken of her but because she’d run into them when they were being taken. Every photo of her Aunt Christie’s tenth birthday party had Kim in the foreground. Even the blowing out of the candles had Kim leaning into the frame to get in on the action. Then there’d been Great Uncle Henry’s wedding when Kim had cartwheeled down the aisle showing off her pink knickers to the entire congregation. So Gemma was understandably nervous about the chaos she might cause on set.
Sitting in make-up now, Gemma wondered how long it would be before her mother became bored.
‘Oh my God!’ her mother said, popping her head around the door. ‘Teresa’s just asked me if I’d like to have a walk-on role. Isn’t that marvellous?’
The colour drained from Gemma’s face. ‘What walk-on role?’
‘That card-playing scene when Captain Wentworth walks in. You know the one.’
Gemma did. It was a scene of great subtlety and if there was one thing Kim Reil
ly wasn’t good at it was subtlety.
‘I’ll be walking into the room before Captain Wentworth arrives and flirting with a gentleman over a game of cards. Isn’t it exciting? I’ve never done a period piece before. It could be a whole new direction for me.’
Gemma didn’t know what to say. The thought of her mother in a Jane Austen adaptation was just too much. What was Teresa thinking of ? But perhaps it was her way of appeasing Kim. She knew what her mother could be like when she got an idea into her head and she was quite sure it hadn’t been Teresa’s doing at all. Kim would have been chipping away at her until she’d given in.
‘So I thought I might stay on here for a bit. There’s nothing for me to rush home for.’
‘Oh,’ Gemma said.
‘Well, you might sound a bit more enthusiastic!’ her mother said. ‘This could be my big relaunch. I haven’t had a decent part in years.’
‘But you played Queen Elizabeth for the BBC last year.’
‘Oh, tosh! That was a mere walk-on role. I had less screen time than the wolfhound. It was ridiculous!’ she said. ‘No, you mark my words – this could be the beginning of great things for me.’
‘But I thought you were going to concentrate on your charity work now,’ Gemma said, hopelessly grabbing on to anything she could think of.
Kim Reilly sighed. ‘Charity work’s all very well but it’s so boring! Honestly, the speeches one has to sit through. And the publicity is appalling. Nobody’s interested because everybody’s doing it.’
Gemma grimaced. That wasn’t what charity work was about, she thought, but she didn’t dare say anything. ‘And you’re meant to be taking it easy – after that breakdown last year, remember?’
‘That wasn’t a breakdown,’ her mother told her. ‘I was just a bit tired and who can blame me for that after that dreadful man?’
Gemma sighed as she remembered Lance Carlson – the Texan with the twinkle who had swept her mother off her feet in Paris, married her in Vegas and robbed her in New York. The marriage had been swiftly annulled and Carlson had been arrested a week later at The Chapel of Undying Love in Vegas on the verge of committing bigamy.