‘Oh, don’t start all that again,’ Mia said.
‘But you are, aren’t you?’
‘So are you,’ Mia said. ‘Anyway, he’s an old man.’
‘He is not an old man! He’s not even forty. Just come and say a quick hello.’
‘I’m not into older men,’ Mia said.
Shelley’s eyebrows rose. ‘There’s a lot to be said for an older man. Just remember Colonel Brandon wasn’t exactly in the first flush of youth, and he’s one of my favorite heroes.’
‘Yes, but Colonel Brandon probably wasn’t a redhead.’
‘Neither’s Gabe,’ Shelley said. ‘He’s more of a strawberry blond, wouldn’t you say?’
Mia took another look at the neighbor and noticed that his arm was in a sling. ‘He’s broken his arm.’
Shelley nodded. ‘Skiing accident. You wouldn’t want for expensive holidays if you hooked up with him. Come on, let me introduce you!’
‘Can’t we just have a cup of tea and a chat? I’m exhausted and really haven’t got the energy to be introduced to anyone, even if he could give Colonel Brandon a run for his money.’
Shelley sighed. ‘All right, then,’ she said, taking pity on her friend. ‘I’ll introduce you to him tomorrow.’ She couldn’t help grinning as Mia rolled her eyes at her.
Chapter 6
Traveling by public transport was always a terrifying experience when one suffered from OCD. Sarah tried to stack the odds in her favor by booking a first-class train ticket, but as she sat down in her reserved seat, she could see several problems already. She’d booked a facing seat, because it was simply unnatural to travel backwards, and she’d opted for a nontable seat, because the thought of sharing a space with three strangers who might get out a big smelly picnic was not to be borne. She’d also booked the quiet carriage, which apparently meant that she’d be with like-minded people who weren’t addicted to their mobile phones, iPods, or loud conversation with their neighbors. Half an hour into her journey, however, three mobile phones had gone off. Luckily for Sarah, a large-bosomed woman with a booming voice and zero-tolerance approach took the law into her own hands and reprimanded the hapless callers.
There weren’t many people in the carriage with her that morning, but there were enough to annoy her. One thing she hadn’t considered when she booked her ticket was the proximity of her seat to the door, which meant that there was a constant noise and draft as people got up to use the toilet. It really was very distracting when one was trying to enjoy the tranquility of the countryside.
There was also a businesswoman with a very runny nose who insisted on sniffing every eight or ten seconds. Sarah had been forced to count, and after the woman’s thirty-fourth sniff, Sarah had resorted to her earplugs. Kept in a little pink tin, Sarah’s earplugs were a lifesaver when traveling in public, instantly blocking out any annoying noises. If only she could block out the smells too, she thought, as somebody unwrapped a particularly stinky sandwich.
‘You really have to learn to be more tolerant,’ Mia often chided when observing her sister’s little quirks. But it was no good—you couldn’t tell someone with OCD to snap out of it. If only it were that simple. If anything, it was getting worse as she was getting older, and being a member of the general public was getting harder. Sarah found that she was becoming more and more reclusive, spending more time on her own in the solitude of her home, which was why something like the Jane Austen Festival was so important to her. It meant that she had to leave the safety of her sanctuary and venture out into the world, if only for a few days.
But something awful happens every time I do, she thought, remembering the week she spent with Mia in Devon. If only she’d stayed at home that week or had booked them into a house somewhere else—anywhere else, then it wouldn’t have happened, would it? Why had she been so insistent that they go to Devon? It had seemed like the perfect idea at the time, but it had ruined everything.
She closed her eyes, wishing that she could turn back time, but then got angry with herself, because that wish was irrational. Not that she wasn’t an irrational person—she knew that many of the symptoms of her OCD were completely irrational, like the counting every time she went up and down stairs and steps or whenever she did up her buttons.
She looked at her watch and wished that she was safely in her hotel room in Bath with the distractions of the city before her instead of stuck on a train with only her thoughts for company. No, that wasn’t quite right. She had Jane Austen for company, didn’t she? Opening her handbag, she took out her copy of Northanger Abbey, a smile instantly lighting her face at the thought of whiling away the time with Catherine Morland and Henry Tilney.
It seemed very special that Jane Austen had chosen Bath as the setting for her first novel, Northanger Abbey. It was also the setting for her last completed work, Persuasion, and Sarah often thought of how the two heroines, Catherine Morland and Anne Elliot, had opposing views about Bath; the young Catherine reveled in its bustle, whereas Anne had no affection for it. Sarah’s own feelings about Bath always swung somewhere between the two heroines’. She adored the beautiful architecture and the enormous fun of seeing everybody looking so resplendent in their Regency costumes, but she often felt panicky at just being in a city and having to cope with the scary situations she found herself in. But she was determined that her time in Bath was going to be fabulous, and without further ado, she opened her book, turning to chapter three and the wonderful scene in which Catherine meets Henry Tilney for the first time. Sarah loved that scene. It was warm and funny, and she loved Tilney’s gentle teasing of the young heroine. It was also a wonderful celebration of Bath and how one can ‘step out of doors and get a thing in five minutes,’ which reminded Sarah that she could treat herself to a little bit of shopping whilst in town.
How the time slipped by wondrously fast when reading a favorite book! After just a few chapters, Sarah realized that they were about to arrive at Bath. She put her book away for later, because she didn’t want to miss the approach.
Whether one arrived by train or car, one of the first things that struck you about Bath was how steep the roads were. They were as steep as any child would draw them, set among gentle hills, green fields, and verdant woods. It really was one of the most beautiful cities in the world. Sarah loved the innumerable church spires that shot up into the air and the neat square lines of the buildings. Georgian architecture was very comforting, she thought.
As the train pulled into the station, Sarah planned the next few hours. She would go to her hotel and take a long, hot shower. Public transport always made her feel grubby. Then she would have a bit of late lunch—there was a little bistro she knew that was clean and quiet with chairs that didn’t wobble and cutlery that wasn’t bent. If there was one thing that turned Sarah’s stomach, it was a bent prong on a fork. Next she’d explore Bath. It seemed so long since she’d last been there, and she couldn’t wait to lose herself among its streets. But first she had to endure the horrors of the train station, where other people might bump into her at any moment. She took a deep breath, and like Catherine Morland at the Upper Rooms, did her best to negotiate the crowds.
***
‘This is your room,’ Shelley said, opening the door into a tiny room at the back of the house. ‘Dad’s been banging on at me to rent it out, but I think I’ve got enough to cope with having Pie living here.’
Mia placed her suitcase by the bed and sat down. The room was at the back of the house, and there was a view out across allotments. It certainly beat the view of the dusty, dirty road that Mia had from her bedsit in London.
‘So, tell me what’s been happening. I haven’t heard from you for weeks. You never ring me, you naughty girl.’
‘My mobile is always out of credit, and I hate using the pay phone in the flats. The landlord is always hovering around, eavesdropping.’
‘So what have you been up to?’
‘Just the usual,’ Mia said, anxious that Shelley might unearth all he
r secrets within five minutes.
‘That isn’t anywhere near good enough,’ Shelley said, flopping down on the bed beside her.
‘But my life is so boring,’ Mia said. ‘I go to work, I go to auditions, I write the occasional song, and I never have enough money to do anything remotely interesting.’
Shelley puffed out her cheeks. ‘Goodness,’ she said. ‘That does sound bleak.’
Mia nodded. ‘I often wonder how I got here. This isn’t the life I envisaged when we were at drama school. Remember how full of hope we were? How everything was going to be so brilliant?’
Shelley grinned. ‘You were going to conquer the West End, and I was going to dazzle Hollywood or, at least, marry into Hollywood royalty.’
‘So what happened?’
‘Life, my dear. That’s what usually happens. It’s the great gulf between fantasy and reality. It’ll get you every time.’ She placed an arm around her friend’s shoulder. ‘But it can’t all be doom and gloom, can it? You must have something juicy to tell me. What about men?’
‘What about them?’
‘Are you seeing any?’
‘Not seriously,’ Mia said in a little voice. ‘I’m just not ready.’
‘But sweetheart, it’s been over three years now, hasn’t it? Do you really mean to tell me you’ve not seen anyone else in all that time?’
‘It’s—it’s not easy,’ she said. ‘Do you mind if we don’t talk about it? Bath is my special place, and I don’t want to spoil it by talking about the past.’
Shelley sighed, and Mia knew she’d upset her. ‘But it’s not the past, is it? It’s still hurting you right now—in the present.’
Mia shook her head. ‘Not this week,’ she said. ‘This is Jane Austen week, and I’m not going to think about anything else.’
Chapter 7
Barton Cottage
That first perfect morning of a holiday was always magical. It was a time when everything was new, and an adventure might be waiting around the very next corner.
Mia drew back the curtains and gazed out across the sloping lawn down toward the estuary. It really was the most perfect view, and a far more pleasing sight first thing on a morning than the noisy road that greeted her from behind the net curtain of her grotty London bedsit.
It was lovely to wake up without the aid of an alarm clock. She and Sarah hadn’t gone to bed much before one o’clock in the morning, because they’d been up talking half the night and enjoying a few glasses of wine. Well, that’s what holidays were all about, weren’t they?
Taking a quick shower and getting dressed in her tracksuit bottoms and her I Love Mr Darcy T-shirt, she walked down the stairs, smiling as she saw the very spot where Emma Thompson had sat in the film version of Sense and Sensibility. She could just imagine her sitting there right then, her cup of tea balancing on her knees as she listened to the painful sobs of her two sisters and her mother.
She knew that Sarah was up already, because she was never one to have a lie in, even on holiday. Besides, she’d heard her polishing doorknobs at an obscenely early hour. But she didn’t find her in the kitchen as she’d expected to; she was in one of the front rooms, and Mia instantly knew what she was doing.
‘You’re not going to spray Barton Cottage,’ she said as she entered the room and saw her sister with a tiny glass bottle in her hand.
‘Good morning,’ Sarah said with a bright smile.
‘Sarah! What are you doing?’ Mia asked, watching as her sister continued to spray her way around the two reception rooms.
‘Other people have been here before us, and you can’t be too careful,’ Sarah said as she squirted a blast of lavender into the air. ‘Mrs Dashwood would have approved; I’m sure of it, and Betsy and Thomas too.’
‘I suppose,’ Mia said, trying to imagine the Dashwoods’ servants administering Sarah’s lavender spray. ‘But don’t go mad, or the whole house will smell like a big lavender bag.’
‘Where are you going?’ Sarah asked as Mia bent down to put on the pair of trainers she’d left by the front door.
‘I thought I’d go for a jog.’
‘Before breakfast?’
‘Best time,’ Mia said.
‘Well, don’t be long, will you? I’m going to make you a proper breakfast, and you look like you need it.’
Mia rolled her eyes, but she secretly liked being looked after by her big sister.
Leaving the house, she did a few warm-up stretches in the front garden before jogging across the lawn to the little wooden gate, which was almost completely hidden in a froth of white cow parsley, and on down to the private lane that skirted the estuary. Mia felt that she had entered the world of Sense and Sensibility, for the lane had been used in the film. She remembered how both Colonel Brandon and Mr Willoughby had ridden their horses along the lane, and she could almost see Marianne Dashwood among the pale blond rushes by the water’s edge.
Opening another gate, she began her run, following the path along the estuary. The morning May sunshine was bright and dazzled her eyes when she looked at the water. Bright pink campions lined the path, and the air was sweet and warm. It was a pleasure to run in such surroundings. Mia’s usual route was through a scruffy park near her flat, full of litter, broken glass, and dangerous dogs, but there was nothing threatening about this place, and she couldn’t help smiling as she ran.
The path skirted a perfect blue pond before climbing toward a wood. She knew that it would eventually lead to the sea but was eager to be back in time for Sarah’s breakfast.
Mia’s breathing deepened as she continued. She loved the steady rhythm she built up as she ran—the gentle thud-thud of her trainers hitting the earth and the light perspiration beading her skin, the wind in her hair, and the heat of her face as she warmed up. There was nothing like it for forgetting your troubles, because the only thing you thought about was putting one foot in front of the other. Also, that morning, she was thinking about Marianne Dashwood. She liked to try to imagine Jane Austen’s characters if they were around today. What would their modern counterparts be like? It had long been a running joke between her and Sarah that they were the modern incarnations of Elinor and Marianne Dashwood, because Sarah was so sensible and in control, and Mia was energetic and headstrong.
She could imagine Marianne would like jogging. She practically ran everywhere in Sense and Sensibility, didn’t she? Whether she caught sight of her beloved Willoughby or a patch of blue sky, she had to run toward it. Yes, she could imagine Marianne Dashwood sporting the latest pair of trainers and racing through the countryside.
As she reached a fork in the path, she slowed down. She had a feeling that if she took the one to the left, she would soon reach the sea. How tempting it was, but Sarah would probably be banging the bottom of the pan with a wooden spoon by now, in an attempt to call her home, so reluctantly, Mia retraced her steps and made her way back to Barton Cottage, running once more through the cool of the beech woods and back past the pond and alongside the estuary.
As she was running around the final corner, she collided with something solid. Dazed, she fell to the ground, where she lay stunned for a moment.
‘Are you okay?’ a man’s voice asked, and a face appeared.
Mia looked up and nodded, although she felt a little shaky.
‘Here, let me help you,’ he said, taking her arm and helping her up. ‘Nothing broken, I hope,’ he said.
‘I… I don’t think so,’ she said, looking up and seeing him for the first time. He was tall with neat dark hair and bright gray eyes that winked at her in the sunlight. His face was lightly tanned, and he was wearing a navy T-shirt and dark tracksuit bottoms that skimmed over an athletic build.
‘I’d be absolutely mortified if I’d hurt you.’
‘But it wasn’t your fault. I wasn’t looking where I was going.’
‘No, I wasn’t looking where I was going.’
‘I didn’t expect anyone else to be around. I’m afraid I was in a world o
f my own,’ Mia said.
‘And you’re sure you’re all right?’ he asked as they walked slowly along the path together, her arm linked in his.
‘I think so,’ she said. ‘Just a little dazed.’ She looked up into his face and noted how very handsome it was. Yes, she was feeling dazed, all right. Something dawned on her. ‘You’re the man who called at the house last night, aren’t you?’
He nodded. ‘I hope I didn’t scare you,’ he said. ‘You didn’t think I was some mad axman?’
Mia stifled a giggle. ‘Oh, no. We just wondered who it was. I mean, one doesn’t expect visitors in the middle of nowhere.’
‘I was just jogging by, and I noticed your car window was open.’
‘Really?’ Mia said. ‘Gosh! That’s very unlike my sister—she’s usually a stickler for that sort of thing.’
‘Not that anything would be stolen around here.’
‘Well, thanks for thinking of us. Ouch!’
‘You okay?’
‘Yes,’ Mia said with a little hobble. ‘I think I grazed my knee. It stings a bit.’
‘Let’s get you back. My name’s Alec, by the way,’ he said. ‘Alec Burrows.’
‘I’m Mia,’ she said with a little smile, thinking that a grazed knee was definitely worth the introduction.
Chapter 8
Shelley was downstairs flipping through a copy of Regency World Magazine when Mia entered the room.
‘Oh, it’s you,’ she said, looking up. ‘I’d forgotten you were here.’
Mia sat on the sofa next to her. ‘Sorry,’ she said.
‘It’s okay.’
‘No, it’s not. I didn’t mean to be rude. It’s just—’
‘You can’t help it?’ Shelley interrupted.
Mia groaned. She’d forgotten how annoying it was to be teased by Shelley.
‘I was going to say it just feels odd being back in Bath. It seems an age since I was here.’
‘It seems an age since you were anywhere outside that grotty little flat of yours. What have you been doing there?’
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