A Seaside Affair (42 page)

‘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.

P
enny 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 Building 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.

‘Did you see Dame Judi, just going in? And I’m sure that was Michael Gambon.’ Penny rubbed her swollen belly. ‘I’m still not sure this was a good idea. I never realised how uncomfortable your car could be for a woman who is eight months pregnant.’

‘Stop grumbling,’ said Helen.

‘And now I’ve got to sit still for the best part of an hour. What if I need a wee?’

‘You can sit near the aisle. Honestly, Pen, you know you wouldn’t have missed this for the world.’

‘None of us would, would we, Jess?’ added Jonathan, hugging his girlfriend.

Jess kissed him on the cheek and patted her own bump, smaller than Penny’s but definitely noticeable. She was positively blooming.

‘Of course not, darling. We’re all here except for Brooke. Ever since she left Trevay, her star has been on the rise. We’re not even sure she’s going to be able to do
Blithe Spirit
. Word is that she’s going to be Miss Moneypenny in the new Bond movie. Her last film,
She’s Got It
, was such a huge hit on both sides of the pond, I reckon she’s out of our league now.’

‘She was always destined for great things. She is a fine actress and a canny girl. I’m proud of her,’ said Colonel Stick.

‘Me too,’ said Ollie. Ollie had just appeared in a critically acclaimed production of a cutting-edge new play at the Royal Court and his career was back on track.

‘I’m sorry to miss being in
Blithe Spirit
,’ said Jess, ‘but Jonathan has got a plan B and I just can’t wait to be a mum. It’s all I’ve ever wanted really. Elsie and Ethel are going to make great big sisters.’

‘I saw that Ryan and Serena had broken up,’ said Helen.

‘Yeah, shame.’ Jess shrugged. ‘But the only person that Ryan really loves is himself. I hope one day he works it out.’

The announcement came for the audience to take their seats.

‘Piran and Simon send their apologies,’ said Helen to the Colonel. ‘Simon has got Lenten duties and Piran just isn’t the London type. Said he’ll wait for the documentary to air on BBC4.’

‘That’s quite all right. My dears, would you both like to take an arm?’ Colonel Stick offered his elbows to Helen and Penny, who linked arms either side of him.

‘Don’t go too fast!’ warned Penny. ‘This cannonball is weighing me down.’

*

The lights dimmed and the audience fell silent.

The film rolled and the audience sat rapt over the next hour as the greatest names of stage and screen were captured in front of them. The sound had been restored and the quality of the prints was excellent. Best of all, these old home movies captured the various legendary icons in all their humanity: Laurence Olivier joking with a stage hand, Vivien Leigh playful and ravishing as ever, Orson Welles majestic and brooding.

At the end of the film, the credits rolled. The last image that the audience saw was of Peter and Walter, arms around each other’s shoulders, taking a bow after the first opening night of the original
Hats Off, Trevay!

The caption beneath read:

In loving memory of Peter Winship, 1927–1985

Colonel Irvine didn’t speak. He held tightly to Helen and Penny’s hands and stayed that way long after the rest of the audience had left the theatre.

T
he house jazz band struck up the familiar theme tune to the TV show as its glamorous star, Laverne Washington, vamped her way down the long and twinkling staircase to greet her ecstatic studio audience.

She laughed her raucous, sexy laugh and then hailed the audience. ‘Good evening and welcome to
The Laverne Show.
Tonight, we go live to the new Brangelina film set where Brad has promised to take us on a tour of his new Winnebago!’

This was greeted with whoops from the audience.

‘And – Will Smith is in the house!!!’ More audience hysteria. ‘But first, I am delighted to welcome to Laverne’s Lounge …’ The cheers and applause increased in volume, ‘… the girl on eveybody’s lips. The one and only, the fabulous Brooke Lynne!!’

Brooke appeared at the top of the stairs in a Victoria Beckham scarlet dress. Her golden curls were pinned loosely on top of her head; her smokey eyes smouldered and her glossy, coral lips were parted in her trademark searchlight smile.

As she walked down the steps, she was accompanied by the house band, playing a jazzed-up version of the
Hat’s Off Trevay
tattoo. Laverne waited for Brooke at the bottom of the stairs and they greeted each other like the old friends they were.

Laverne guided Brooke over to a sumptuous couch. ‘Hey, girlfriend, what’s happened to you since we were roommates in Manhattan?’

With great charm and humour, Brooke allowed Laverne to tease out the story of Brenda Foster and the low rent days of their lives as drama students.

‘And now,’ encouraged Laverne, ‘tell us about
Hats Off Trevay
? When does the movie open?’

‘At the weekend.’ Brooke replied. ‘I’m as nervous as a kitten but it’s such a good film. And behind it is the true story of a theatre and of the man who saved it, but if it’s alright with you, Laverne, why don’t we let him tell you the story for himself.’

‘Is he here?’ Laverne did an excellent job of looking as if she didn’t know what was happening next.

‘He certainly is.’ Brooke stood up. ‘Ladies and Gentlemen, the man you’ve read all about, the man who wrote
Hats Off Trevay
… Colonel Walter Irvine!’

To the amazement of the audience, a sprightly Colonel walked out in front of them and gave a deep bow.

After lapping up the warm applause, he turned to Laverne and asked sweetly. ‘I have brought a friend with me. May I bring him on too?’

Laverne nodded her rehearsed assent, bracing herself for the crowd’s reaction.

Then with no fuss at all, Richard Gere stepped out in front of the lights.

*

The opening of
Hats Off Trevay,
the movie, was a glittering and starry event. Sitting in their stretch limo waiting their turn to pull up on to the red carpet, were Brooke, the Colonel, Ollie, Jess and Penny. Penny was holding her mobile phone to her ear and talking to Simon.

‘I can hear her crying – is she hungry? There’s a bottle in the fridge … I’ve been expressing all day … Well, maybe her nappy needs changing … Perhaps I’d better come back to the hotel?’

Half a mile away, Simon was sitting in their luxury hotel suite cuddling his daughter, Jenna, and juggling the phone.