‘Well, there’s plenty to do,’ Theo replied. ‘So not too much wine, I don’t want you comatose before bedtime.’
‘Good point,’ I agreed. ‘One coma a day is quite enough for anyone. Now I should really go and let everyone know you’re all right. And there’s someone else I need to speak to too …’
I settled myself into a little button-backed velvet chair by the window in the hall and after making quick calls to Archie and Eliza to update them on the good news I dialled a mobile number I knew by heart.
‘Hello?’ Sebastian answered immediately.
I could hear the burble of conversation and chink of glasses in the background. A faint voice shouted, ‘Over here!’ and another yelled at someone to give them a wave. It sounded as if he was at a press event. I glanced out of the window. Dusk had settled over Brightside Cove and the sky was a patchwork of purple and pink and, almost within touching distance, the perfect sliver of a new moon glistened above the cottage rooftops. I was so glad I was here and not there.
‘It’s Nina. I’m calling to thank you for sorting out my new Victory Road contract,’ I said gaily. ‘And to say I won’t be bothering you again.’
‘What?’ he demanded. ‘Why not?’
I blinked in surprise. I’m sure his last words to me were that I was toast?
‘I’ve moved back to Devon and I won’t be in London for a while.’
‘So you won’t want to know about the work I’ve secured you,’ he said, sounding sulky.
‘An audition?’ I said, surprised. (And hopeful. A girl can’t live on fresh air and moonlit views for long, after all.)
‘Not exactly,’ Sebastian backtracked. ‘Vanity Case magazine wants to do a “What’s in your make-up bag?” feature. Urgently. As in tomorrow. And someone from Horizons, the online travel mag, wants your recommendations for your top getaway. Seeing as you’re fond of a quick getaway,’ he said slyly, ‘they thought you’d be perfect. No money, but it’s all good exposure.’
‘I’ve had plenty of exposure recently,’ I reminded him, biting back my disappointment. ‘I want to act and earn money.’
‘There is one paid thing.’ He paused.
‘Go on.’
‘A voiceover for ladies’ …’ He coughed. ‘Incontinence products.’
I was speechless.
‘Hello? Damn. I’ve lost her.’ Sebastian muttered into the phone.
He had lost me. For the last two years I’d followed his every instruction. Auditioned for small acting roles because he’d said I didn’t have the gravitas to handle anything weightier. And now this: I bet he hadn’t asked Cecily to be the voice of weak bladders. Even if I didn’t manage to get another agent, Sebastian Nichols would never represent me again. I’d seen the light.
‘The media attention I accidentally created for Victory Road has worked out well for other members of the cast. Freddie Major’s agent has even landed him a job in the West End. You, on the other hand, have decided to align me with nappies for nans. So thanks, but no thanks. It’s time to part ways, Sebastian.’
There was a terse silence for a few seconds.
‘I’ve renegotiated your contract on Victory Road and got you two PR slots today. You’re hot property at the moment, you might never get this attention again, you’ve got to use it. You need me.’
‘I renegotiated the contract,’ I argued. ‘And I’m only famous for that clip on YouTube! I want to be known for my acting skills, not a one-off tantrum.’
‘Good luck with that,’ he scoffed.
I took a deep breath, determined not to sink to his level. ‘Thank you. And thank you for the press opportunities, but I’m afraid I can’t help.’
Sebastian began whinging that he’d have to find someone else now at the last minute and leave the Odeon in Leicester Square just as Johnny Depp had arrived on the red carpet.
I stayed silent.
‘Fine,’ said Sebastian. ‘But if you’re serious about your career then you need to think about where your loyalties lie.’
‘If I ever want a lecture in loyalty, Sebastian, the last person I’d come to is you. Enjoy the party.’
I put the phone down. I wouldn’t be taking advice from him ever again. From now on I was going to run my career my way.
Next morning after breakfast, Theo and I wrapped up warm and took the coastal path towards the village for the last packet of tablets for his first-aid box. I’d only been away for a few days but it felt good to breathe in the briny fresh air again. Fluffy clouds scudded boisterously across the blue sky, and here on the cliffs the wind was keeping the temperature low. But breezy or not, there was no escaping the sublime scenery of this little Devonshire hideaway.
‘I honestly think this might be my favourite place in the world,’ I said happily.
‘For eighteen months I regretted moving here,’ Theo admitted. ‘But since I started my marketing plans for Brightside Holidays, I’m beginning to see the attraction of the place myself. I even managed to take a booking while you were away. Brucey-darling and Pen-Pen have booked again for next year.’
The swelling in his eyes had begun to go down; if you didn’t know better you’d think they were just a bit watery from the wind. In fact, he looked a completely different man to the defeated and depressed Theo I’d found when I’d first arrived in Brightside Cove. He looked like a man who was looking on the bright side.
‘That’s brilliant!’ I bumped his arm with mine affectionately. ‘And what are your marketing plans?’
We’d reached the end of the path and joined the pavement that led into the village. To the left of us was the pretty little row of cottages I’d seen when I’d first arrived with Archie, painted in ice-cream colours of cream, pink, pale green, yellow and lavender, and opposite them stood the Mermaid Gift and Gallery. Perfect. Utterly perfect. Shame there wasn’t a proper job for me here, or I’d be tempted to stay for ever.
‘I thought perhaps you could persuade some of your celebrity friends to visit.’ He grinned boyishly at me. ‘You know: golden sunsets, beautiful beaches, luxury accommodation endorsed by the cast of Victory Road, or whoever. What do you think?’
We walked past the Mermaid Gift and Gallery and I looked for Eliza inside. She was with a customer and didn’t see me. I’d called her last night; she’d been mortified to hear about the cat allergy and had even offered to take Mittens back. Theo wouldn’t hear of it.
‘I love it here, you know that,’ I said diplomatically.
‘I detect a but.’
‘But my friends are … different. They like the idea of the seaside, but when they’re not on the beach they want hotels and restaurants owned by celebrity chefs, they want to be able to peruse little boutiques. I’m not sure a crab sandwich at The Sea Urchin followed by a shopping spree in the Mermaid Gift and Gallery will really do it for them.’
We passed an elderly couple in deckchairs sitting outside one of the cottages with blankets across their knees. The man had his binoculars trained on the gulls swooping overhead while the woman was lost in her knitting. A pot of tea sat between them. Theo and I exchanged affectionate looks.
‘I take your point,’ he said with a chuckle. ‘It’s hardly London-by-the-sea, is it?’
‘Which is exactly what I love about it,’ I said, looping my arm through his and giving it a squeeze. ‘And so will others. We just have to tap into the right market.’
We walked down the hill past the cottages and shops until we reached Jethro’s General Store. A small fruit and vegetable display stood next to a rack of faded maps and nautical tide tables. Inside the door it had a motley assortment of buckets and spades, beach shoes and sunhats, aisles of household essentials in the middle, a mini post office desk in the front corner and next to it, a small ice-cream counter.
An elderly man with a fuzz of grey hair escaping from under a New York Yankees baseball cap jolted awake from his snooze as we entered. He struggled to get out of his chair and waved away Theo’s offer of help while I waited a
t the counter.
‘Just one packet of paracetamol today please, Jethro,’ said Theo.
The old man screwed up his face into a scowl. ‘More drugs? T’aint normal, that.’
‘They’re for first-aid kits to put in self-catering cottages,’ I explained. ‘Not personal consumption.’
‘Yes. We’ve kitted out the three little cottages at Driftwood Lodge,’ said Theo, leaning his elbow casually against a pyramid of boxes of washing powder. ‘Hopefully regular bookings will mean more customers for you.’
I felt a tinge of pride; Theo striking up conversation was a huge improvement. He’d be actually making friends with people soon.
‘Tourists?’ Jethro said morosely. ‘As if I wasn’t busy enough.’
I cast my eyes over the layer of dust on the shelf of tinned peas and managed to smother a smile.
‘We probably won’t attract many visitors,’ said Theo, hastily backtracking.
‘Probably not.’ Jethro’s face relaxed a bit.
‘It looks as if not everyone shares our vision for boosting tourism,’ I whispered to Theo when Jethro turned away to get the tablets.
I added a scoop full of fudge to our purchases and we left the shop and headed down on to the beach. The tide was on its way in and we kept to the dry sand away from the approaching water. Children pored over the rock pools at the far side of the bay with nets and buckets, and at the water’s edge, two adults were swinging a little girl up over the waves and she was shrieking with joy. Theo noticed them too and I saw a look of grief flash across his face. My stomach twisted for him and Kate; that could have been them playing in the waves with their daughter.
I offered him some fudge and we fell quiet as we chewed on chunks of it.
‘So when we do start this marketing campaign, then?’
Theo’s face lit up. ‘You’ll help drum up business?’
‘Yep. In fact,’ I said, suddenly recalling that awkward conversation with Sebastian last night, ‘I’ve got a travel website who might be interested in covering Brightside Holidays. That would be brilliant publicity. I can ring them, if you like?’
While Theo gushed over how fantastic I was and how he was going to pay me a percentage of all the bookings I helped him attract, my mind was racing ahead.
I would do anything to help him, I decided. Because if Kate came back and liked what she saw, then maybe they could be a family again. And what was the point in having well-connected friends if you couldn’t take advantage of them now and again?
Chapter 14
Theo and I spent hours the next day at the kitchen table drawing up a marketing plan.
‘The key to being famous is to put yourself out there,’ I’d said when he’d laid out a large blank sheet of paper.
Theo tapped a pen against his mug. ‘What happened to simply being the best at what you do and letting your customers find you?’
‘Very funny.’
‘I’m serious. Word of mouth is way more effective.’
‘Name me one successful brand that doesn’t spend a fortune on advertising.’
‘Krispy Kreme Donuts,’ said Theo smoothly. ‘The world’s number-one doughnut brand. But I take your point. It took them seventy years to get there. Time isn’t on our side.’
For the next few hours we brainstormed. And by the end of it we had ideas for promotions, discounts, newsletters, competitions, social media … you name it.
The subtle approach was out; the hard sell was in.
It had to be: we had three empty cottages, zero budget and we wanted plenty of bookings to show Kate when she returned at the end of June.
There was no time to lose, no opportunity too small to pass up.
According to Nigel Rees from the Coastal Cottages bookings website, Theo’s page was due to go live in the next day or so, which should give the cottages a boost, but in the meantime there was still plenty we could do. So while Theo designed a Facebook campaign advertising Brightside Holidays as the ideal destination for a painting/reading/yoga holiday location, I swallowed my pride and called Sebastian for the email address of the travel journalist at Horizons.
‘And while you’re on, don’t broadcast this,’ I said to Sebastian in a low voice, knowing he’d do exactly the opposite, ‘but Brightside Holidays will be the coolest place to stay this summer, I guarantee it. It’s undiscovered. So far. You and I are literally the only ones in the know. That travel website will love it, I promise.’
‘What makes it so special down there?’ he said with a sneer. ‘Good restaurants, quaint little shops, plenty of nightlife?’
‘Oh yes,’ I said airily, crossing my fingers. ‘All that. And there is no other holiday accommodation here. Very exclusive. Our three cottages will be booked up in a flash.’
Sebastian loved being first. I knew he wouldn’t be able to resist.
‘Send me the link to the website,’ he said, feigning disinterest. ‘It’s not my bag, but it always pays to keep ahead of the pack.’
‘Of course,’ I said sweetly. ‘And if you do get any interest from anyone, I’m sure we can sort out some commission …’
By five o’clock, I’d given an interview to the editor at Horizons, and sent him some photographs, and Theo, with a sleeping kitten on his lap, had put the finishing touches to the visitors’ welcome folders complete with a map of the best beaches, a copy of the local tide tables and a list of places to eat in a five-mile radius.
‘Fancy a walk to The Sea Urchin?’ I stood up and stretched my spine. ‘All this office work has made me thirsty.’
‘I’ve got a better idea.’ Theo carefully put Mittens in his basket and fetched a bottle of champagne from the pantry. ‘This has been here for ages. I haven’t had anything to celebrate. But now I think I do. We can have it outside.’
I approved wholeheartedly of both the champagne and his celebratory mood and while he ran the bottle under the cold tap to chill it a bit, I went out to water the geraniums I’d planted last week. I found a watering can and filled it from the outside tap and when I turned round, there was a woman in the courtyard holding a bicycle, staring at me.
‘Arrghh,’ I said, sloshing water on my feet. ‘You startled me.’
‘Sorry about that.’ She leaned the bike against the wall and pulled off her cycle helmet. A shimmering curtain of stunning red hair fell to her shoulders. She was a bit older than me at a guess and she had long athletic legs and a slim boyish figure, both accentuated by tight-fitting sportswear.
‘I’m Nina.’ I put the watering can down and walked across to her, my hand outstretched.
‘Yes, I know.’ She ignored my hand. ‘You were at Kate and Theo’s wedding. Also you were in the newspaper at the weekend.’
‘I was,’ I confirmed, racking my brains to remember who she was. I drew a blank. ‘I’m sorry, I don’t recall meeting you at the wedding.’
‘I didn’t know them then.’ She lifted a cake tin from the basket at the front of her bike and took her handbag out of the child seat at the back. ‘But I’ve heard about you from Kate.’
I was guessing from her pinched expression that what she’d heard hadn’t been entirely good.
‘Champagne!’ Theo cried, appearing from the front door carrying two glasses and a bottle. ‘For my favourite actress! Without whom—’ He caught sight of our visitor mid-sentence, turned bright red and began to splutter. ‘Molly! What are you doing here?’
The name rang a bell; this must be the friend of Kate’s who Eliza had mentioned. So if Kate didn’t already know I was here, she probably would soon …
‘Interrupting a celebration, by the look of it,’ Molly replied. In contrast to Theo’s flaming cheeks, she had gone as white as a ghost. ‘I heard from Eliza that you hadn’t been well, so I brought you a cake, but I can see that I needn’t have worried. I’ll be off.’
She rammed her helmet back on.
Theo hurried over to her. ‘Wait! Please, join us for a drink in the garden.’
After a bit of
juggling he managed to force a glass of bubbly on her and ushered us towards the gate to the garden at the back of the house.
‘Sorry about this,’ he murmured, catching my arm. ‘Her husband left her for someone else last year at her thirtieth birthday party and she’s a bit prickly.’
‘Don’t worry, we’ll soon sort out any misunderstandings over a drink,’ I replied and sent him inside for an extra glass.
I went through the gate and couldn’t believe my eyes. I hadn’t ventured into the garden since I’d witnessed Bruce and Penelope rolling around on the grass creating their Crescendo of Passion canvas. But in the last few days, Theo had clearly been very busy.
There was a new fire pit surrounded by wooden seating made from old pallets, and a long wooden table. Molly and I both took a seat at it.
She regarded me suspiciously.
‘It was kind of you to come and check on him,’ I said. ‘And bring cake. I’m glad he has friends looking out for him. Other friends, I mean, besides me. Because that’s all I am. A friend.’
‘Men. They’re all the same.’ She tightened her grip on the cake tin and turned her face away.
Luckily, Theo reappeared just then with a third champagne flute.
‘You approve?’ he said, nodding at the new garden additions.
‘Massively,’ I said. ‘You must have spent a fortune!’
He shook his head smugly. ‘Free to a good home from a hotel that was closing. Just paid for delivery.’
‘So.’ I smiled brightly. ‘Are you going to introduce us properly?’
Theo ran a hand through his curls. ‘Yes. Sorry. Nina, this is Molly, a friend of ours.’
‘Of Kate’s,’ Molly corrected. ‘Whereas Nina is obviously a friend of yours.’
‘Theo and I have known each other for years,’ I said lightly. ‘My brother Archie was Theo’s best man.’
‘Yes.’ Molly’s nostrils flared. ‘Kate told me. So what are you celebrating?’
‘Brightside Holidays,’ said Theo, chinking his glass against hers. ‘Nina’s been helping me get it off the ground.’
Molly slurped at the bubbles but didn’t raise her glass. ‘So Kate knows she’s here?’
A Match Made in Devon Page 14