Dreaming of Mr. Darcy (9 page)

‘I can't stand it any longer!' he'd say.

‘What?' Kay would ask, her eyes wide.

‘You staring at me like that—with those huge eyes of yours and that perfect mouth that I just want to kiss.'

‘Oh, Oli!' she'd say before his mouth came crashing down onto hers, her paint brushes rolling to the floor in abandon.

‘Kay?'

Kay gasped, spinning around at the sound of her voice being called.

‘Oh, Adam!' she said.

‘Sorry. Didn't mean to shock you.'

‘It's okay.'

He walked towards her. ‘You looked deep in thought.'

‘Did I?' Kay said, suddenly becoming engrossed in a rosemary bush.

‘What have you been up to?'

‘Oh, not much. Just talking to Oli.'

Adam nodded, and Kay noticed that his smile slipped away.

‘You've been talking to Gemma?' she asked.

‘Yes. She always gets a bit anxious before filming.'

‘It's so nice that you care about her,' Kay said.

‘I just try and keep everyone together, you know?'

‘But Gemma's a bit special, isn't she?'

Adam frowned. ‘What do you mean?'

‘I mean she's such a lovely person,' Kay said.

‘Yes,' Adam said, ‘she is.'

‘And so pretty too. I think she's one of the prettiest actresses around, don't you think?'

Adam's eyes widened. ‘I've not really thought about it.'

‘But she is,' Kay said enthusiastically. ‘I think she's lovely. But she's a bit shy. I think she's one of these girls who has so much to give if only she could find the right man.'

Adam cleared his throat. ‘And I'm sure she will, one day.'

‘Are you?' Kay said, her eyes lighting up. ‘I am too. In fact, I think that day might be fast approaching.'

The retrenching scene was in the can, and Teresa was keen to move onto the next indoor scene—the one where Anne Elliot and Captain Wentworth see each other for the first time after their years of separation. It was to be shot in one of the ground floor rooms of Marlcombe Manor, which was filled with oak panels and had a beautiful mullioned window and an impressive door through which Wentworth was going to make his entrance.

As ever, it was a problem getting the lighting just right for this scene. Teresa wanted it subdued and tender, but not so tender that you couldn't actually see the actors' faces, as had happened in the first shot.

Beth and Sophie had their hair fixed and faces made up and were looking a little more like sisters, but they were far from acting like sisters when the cameras weren't rolling. Beth seemed to be in a permanently bad mood, and Sophie took great delight in teasing her, which wasn't exactly helping things along.

Finally, everything was ready. Taking some steadying deep breaths, Gemma tried to focus. It was one of the most important scenes for Anne, and Gemma was feeling the whole weight of it. How could she convey Anne's inner turmoil, when she was a woman of few words? Her feelings of both dread and longing at seeing Wentworth again had to be portrayed subtly. Anne wasn't the kind of character to gasp aloud or clutch at her bosom.

‘It's all in the eyes,' Teresa told her.

Gemma understood, but could she do it? Jane Austen had written that ‘a thousand feelings rushed on Anne' when she realises that Captain Wentworth was going to call, and Gemma had only a few seconds to convey it all. She twisted the tiny gold cross hanging around her neck. She always fiddled when she was nervous, which was one of the reasons why knitting was good, because it occupied her anxious fingers. Her knitting was in one of the vans outside, though.

After an agony of waiting, they were ready, and Gemma was no longer Gemma but Anne. The twenty-first century became the nineteenth. Beth and Sophie became Louisa and Henrietta, and Oli became Captain Wentworth. It was always a strange yet wonderful moment. Gemma thought it was the deepest sort of alchemy, a moment of magic, when the script came to life and nothing else existed.

By the time Adam and Kay left the knot garden, most of the cast had disappeared.

‘I don't think we're wanted here anymore,' Adam told her.

Kay sighed. ‘I think you're right.'

‘You ready to go?'

‘Yes,' Kay said, although she would have willingly stayed all day and all night.

‘They always stick to their own type,' Adam said.

‘What?'

‘Actors. They always stick together.'

Kay frowned. ‘What do you mean?'

‘I mean you're too sensible to even think about getting involved with an actor, aren't you?'

Kay's mouth dropped open at the impudence of his question. After all, wasn't he thinking about getting involved with Gemma?

‘I don't know what you're talking about,' Kay said as she headed towards his car.

‘I think you do,' he said, quickening his pace to keep up with her. ‘I've seen the way women react when Oli Wade Owen's around, and I've seen the way he encourages it, as well.'

‘What's Oli got to do with anything?' Kay said a little too defensively.

‘You were talking to him just now, weren't you?'

‘So?' Kay said. ‘What harm is there in talking? It's not often that I meet a movie star.'

‘I know,' Adam said, ‘and that's my point. He plays on that. I've seen it before. I've worked with his type for years, and it always ends badly for any girl who gets involved.'

‘Aren't you typecasting?'

‘Typecasts are typecasts for very good reasons—they're instantly recognizable.'

Kay reached the car and was waiting for Adam to open it when she suddenly wondered if there was a bus she could catch back to Lyme Regis. She didn't like being interrogated like this. He was making assumptions about her and her feelings towards Oli. So what if he was absolutely right? She didn't need his warnings. She was a grown woman, and she could look after herself.

‘Adam—please don't talk to me like a child.'

He looked hurt for a moment and then sighed. ‘I'm sorry,' he said. ‘I just couldn't bear to see you… to see Oli…' he paused. ‘Well, it's none of my business.'

Kay hesitated for a moment, wondering what would happen next.

‘I have to get back,' she said at last as Adam found his keys and opened the car.

‘Listen,' he said as they both got in, ‘Teresa said they're going to be hours yet on set, so you don't have to rush back and prepare dinner.'

Kay glanced at him, wondering what he was thinking.

‘I mean, say no if you don't want to.'

‘Want to what, Adam?'

‘Go and visit my nan.'

‘Your nan?'

He nodded. ‘She doesn't live far from here, and she'd love to meet you. And you'd love her too. I mean, I think it would be fun—for you both.'

‘I don't know,' Kay said. ‘I should be getting back.'

‘Please,' he said. ‘Come and have some tea with my nan—as a way of showing you forgive me for making a prat of myself just now.'

Kay pursed her lips. Tea with Adam's nan. How bad could it be?

‘Okay,' she said.

Adam smiled and started the car. ‘You'll love Nana Craig,' he said.

***

Nana Craig's cottage was tucked away down a quiet country lane lined with cow parsley and red campion, and with its coffee-coloured thatched roof and its fat chimney, it looked just like the sort of cottage a child would draw. A tiny front garden was stuffed with flowers, and a herringbone brick path led to a fat wooden front door that was painted yellow.

Kay had to stop herself from gasping at it all; it was picture perfect.

Adam walked ahead and rapped the knocker on the front door.

‘She's a bit hard of hearing,' he said, ‘except if you're gossiping with somebody in the room next door, and then she hears everything.'

Adam knocked again. A couple of minutes later, the door opened, and a lovely round face greeted them.

‘Hello, Nana,' Adam said, bending down to kiss her powdery face. ‘I've brought somebody to meet you.'

‘Oh, my boy!' she said. ‘You're married at last!'

‘Nana! You know I'm not married,' Adam said, his face flushing furiously.

Kay couldn't help smiling.

‘Was I expecting you? I can't remember, but that's normal these days,' Nana Craig said.

‘No, you weren't expecting us. I just thought we'd drop by. We've been up at Marlcombe. They're filming there today.'

‘Oh, you and that film,' she said. ‘You're obsessed.'

‘Yep!' Adam said. ‘Can't help it. I've waited a long time to see it all come to life.'

‘I know you have, my love,' Nana Craig said with an affectionate squeeze of his arm. ‘Now here we are standing and talking a lot of nonsense, when there's a lovely young lady on the doorstep.'

‘Pardon my manners,' Adam said. ‘Nana, this is Kay Ashton. She's just opened a terrific bed and breakfast in Lyme and is housing half the cast of the film. Kay, this is Nana Craig.'

The two women shook hands, and Kay smiled at the friendly face that greeted her.

‘Come in, my dear. You're very welcome, even if Adam hasn't made an honest woman of you yet.'

‘Nana! I've only just met Kay.'

‘Never stopped anyone before,' she said. ‘In fact, it often helps these matters along.'

‘You mustn't tease Kay. She won't know you're joking.'

Nana Craig giggled, and it was the kind of giggle that belonged to a very naughty young girl.

They walked through a tiny narrow hallway painted red in which stood a variety of wellington boots in different colours and state of disrepair. An old-fashioned coat hanger stood in the corner and was covered in bright raincoats.

‘Nana likes colour,' Adam explained, and Kay saw what he meant when they entered the living room at the front of the house. It was simply awash with colour, from the pink floral wallpaper to the two squashy sofas in yellow and red. There were bright paintings of country scenes on the wall, a multitude of pretty figurines in a corner cabinet, and a coffee table covered in a shocking pink tablecloth.

‘I'll make a pot of tea,' Nana Craig said, bustling out of the brilliant room.

‘Wow!' Kay said. ‘I've never seen anywhere like this.'

Adam shook his head. ‘It can be a bit trying if you have a headache.'

‘I heard that,' Nana Craig called from the kitchen.

Kay smiled.

‘You should see the kitchen,' Adam said in a lowered voice. ‘It's a symphony of yellows, and her bedroom's every possible shade of blue and a few more too.'

They sat on the squashy yellow sofa.

‘Kay,' Adam began, ‘I didn't mean to overstep the mark before. I'm sorry if you felt I did.'

Kay turned to look at him, and sure enough, he seemed sorry. ‘I don't know what you were imagining,' she said. ‘It's not as if I'm thinking of getting involved with anyone,' she said, trying to push back the image of herself with Oli Wade Owen in a passionate clinch in the middle of the knot garden.

‘I know,' Adam said. ‘I'm just a worrier.'

‘Why are you worried about me?' she asked, eyes wide with surprise.

‘Because I like you,' he said in a low voice—Kay imagined in case his nan might be eavesdropping and was planning the flowers for a church wedding. ‘You seem like the kind of girl who's too nice to get involved with an actor.'

Kay frowned. ‘I'm not going to get involved with an actor. I merely admire Oli's work. I can't help it if I'm a little bit starstruck. It's not every day that one of my favourite actors is staying in my house.'

‘I know,' Adam said. ‘Just be careful.'

Kay wasn't sure how to respond, so played it safe and said nothing. She wasn't sure how she felt about Adam's concern. It was nice that he cared about her, but it was none of his business, and he was treating her like a child who was likely to make silly mistakes without a bit of guidance.

Nana Craig returned to the room carrying the tea tray. Adam leapt up from the sofa and took it from her.

‘You should've called through, Nana.'

‘Oh, nonsense! I'm not an invalid yet, my boy.'

Adam set the tray down on the table, and Kay admired the candy-striped mugs and the polka-dotted teapot.

‘Nothing matches in this house,' Adam said, shaking his head.

‘Why should things match? Matching's highly overrated.'

‘I agree,' Kay said. ‘Who wants order, when disorder is so beautiful?'

Nana Craig smiled. ‘Now here's a girl who finally makes sense. Not like that last one you brought round.'

‘Nana—'

‘Who was wearing that awful grey suit. Who wants to wear grey? She looked like an old dishcloth!'

‘Nana!'

She waggled her finger at her grandson. ‘But Kay here—look at her pretty clothes.'

‘Thank you,' Kay said, fingering her pink dress. ‘I think colour's so important.'

Nana Craig nodded, and it was only then that Kay noticed what she was wearing. From its shape and cut, it was a conventional sort of a cardigan, but being a cardigan owned by Nana Craig, it was a rainbow riot of colour. There were pinks and yellows and purples and blues all flowing together in a swirling spectrum. It was being worn over a lilac skirt that hovered over a pair of fluffy hot-pink slippers.

‘You're not one of those actresses my grandson keeps hanging around with, are you?' Nana Craig asked.

‘Oh, no,' Kay said.

‘I'm very glad to hear it. No good at all, those sort of girls. Always flitting from job to job, never a moment to settle down and make a proper home for a man.'

Adam rolled his eyes. ‘Kay runs a bed and breakfast in Lyme. I told you, Nana.'

‘I paint too,' Kay said.

‘You didn't tell me you painted,' Adam said. ‘I should like to see your paintings.'

‘What do you paint?' Nana Craig asked.

Kay took a sip of her tea. ‘I like to paint anything, really, the sky, the sea, fields—anything. But for the last few years, I've been working on illustrating the books of Jane Austen.' She dared to look at Adam.

‘Really?' he said.

Kay nodded. ‘I finished
Pride
and
Prejudice
last year. I've called it
The
Illustrated
Darcy
.'

‘How marvellous!' Nana Craig said. ‘I should very much like to see it.'

‘So should I,' Adam said. ‘Are you going to try to get it published?'

‘That's where I'm floundering a bit. I love the illustrating. I love getting lost in my own imagination. There's no pressure there. I do what I want when I want. But when it comes to the publishing business, I don't know where to begin.'

‘Maybe I can help you,' Adam said. ‘I know a few agents in London. That's where you want to start.'

‘My dear boy's been doing this for more years than I can remember. I remember those early days when you were sending your first plays out into the big wide world.'

‘It must be a brave thing to do,' Kay said. ‘I mean, my paintings are mine at the moment. They're my private world, and although I'm desperate to see them published, I'm terrified of letting them go.'

‘That's perfectly normal,' Adam said. ‘But you have to send them out if you want them to find a home.'

‘I know,' Kay said. ‘But what if nobody else likes my drawings? What if I'm the only person in the whole world who likes them?'

‘All artists think that about their work,' Adam said. ‘I know I did when I was beginning. Still do.'