Read The Perfect Hero Online

Authors: Victoria Connelly

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #General, #Contemporary

The Perfect Hero (12 page)

BOOK: The Perfect Hero
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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 star-struck. It’s not every day that one of my favourite actors stays in my house.’

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

Kay wasn’t sure how to respond and 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 she couldn’t help feeling that it was none of his business and that he was treating her like a child who was apt to make silly mistakes without a bit of guidance.

It was then that 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 its cut, it was a very 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 worn over a lilac skirt which hovered over a pair of fluffy hot pink slippers.

‘You’re not one of these 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.

‘What do you paint?’ Nana Craig asked.

Kay took a sip of her tea. ‘Well, 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 this 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 natural,’ 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.’

‘He just doesn’t know how talented he is,’ Nana Craig said.

‘Nana!’

‘He’s always shying away from praise, aren’t you? I bet you haven’t even told Kay about
The Princess and the Pirate
, have you?’

‘What’s that?’ Kay asked with a smile.

Nana Craig’s eyes lit up. ‘It’s the very first play Adam wrote and I’m proud to own the only known copy in existence. I can get it for you if you want.’

‘No, Nana!’ Adam protested. ‘She doesn’t want to hear about all that.’

‘But I do!’ Kay said. ‘What’s it about?’

Nana Craig looked all dreamy for a moment. ‘It’s a marvellous swashbuckling romance set on the high seas. Well, Lyme Bay.’

Kay giggled and Adam actually blushed.

‘But Adam refuses to produce it.’

‘Nana, I’ve explained, it’s not very good.’

‘It
is
good!’

‘It’s the first thing I ever wrote! Trust me, it’s not very good.’

Nana Craig just shook her head in despair.

‘Listen, we’d better be getting back,’ Adam said.

‘But you’ve not even had a second cup of tea,’ Nana Craig said.

‘Kay’s got to sort things out at the bed and breakfast and I’ve got a hundred calls to make.’

‘Always so busy, you young ones,’ Nana Craig said, getting up.

‘It’s been lovely to meet you,’ Kay said. ‘Thank you for the tea.’

‘Any time,’ she said. ‘You know where I am now, don’t you?’

They leaned forward and gave each other an affectionate hug.

‘I like this one, Adam,’ Nana Craig said. ‘Get a ring on her finger before she’s snapped up by someone else.’

Adam rolled his eyes. ‘Goodbye, Nana.’

‘She’s a love,’ Kay said once they were back in the car.

‘I can’t imagine life without her,’ Adam told her. ‘She was there for me when nobody else was. Both my parents were workaholics and didn’t have much time for me when I was growing up but Nana Craig was always there. She was the one who came to parents’ evenings and she was the one who got me through all those awful spelling tests. She even helped me pick out my first suit for a job interview.’

‘She clearly adores you.’

‘And you too. I think you’re her new favourite person.’

‘Just as well I’m not an actress,’ Kay said.

‘Yes, she does have a problem with actresses.’

‘Why is that?’

‘Maybe it’s because she was once married to an actor.’

‘Really?’

Adam nodded. ‘Before she met my grandfather, she was married to a man we only know as Bas.’

‘What happened?’

‘He ran off to London with some girl who promised to get him a part in a movie. He was never heard of again.’

‘Poor Nana Craig!’

‘Oh, she soon got over him,’ Adam said as they reached the main road back towards Lyme Regis.

‘But not all actors are so awful. What about Gemma? Nana Craig couldn’t possibly have a problem with her, could she?’

‘I don’t suppose we’ll ever know,’ he said.

‘But she’s bound to meet her sooner or later,’ Kay said.

Adam frowned. ‘What makes you say that?’

Kay groaned inwardly. He was being tremendously dim.

‘Oh, you mean if I take Nana out to see some filming?’ he said. ‘That’s a good idea, although she’s not shown any interest in seeing it so far. It might well stir up some bad memories for her.’

‘Well, I’m sure she’d like Gemma.’

‘Yes,’ Adam said.

‘You couldn’t not like Gemma, could you?’ She looked directly at Adam.

‘No,’ he said.

Kay sighed. She supposed it was a start – the start of something she was going to nudge along in the right direction.

Chapter Fifteen

Adam dropped Kay off in Lyme Regis and couldn’t help feeling disappointed that she hadn’t invited him back for coffee. She did have a lot to do, he supposed, watching as she walked down Marine Parade towards the bed and breakfast. Then she did something unexpected – she turned around and walked right back towards him.

‘Would you like to come to dinner tonight?’

‘With the cast?’ Adam asked.

Kay shook her head. ‘I’ve just got a text from Teresa,’ she said, holding up her phone. ‘They’re going to be filming for goodness knows how long. She told me not to worry about feeding everyone. They’d get something at the pub later.’

‘Okay,’ Adam said, a huge smile crossing his face. ‘What time?’

‘Eight o’clock?’

‘Fine,’ he said. ‘I look forward to it.’

He watched as she walked away, her long hair swinging about her shoulders. Well, Nana Craig would certainly be pleased with the speed of his progress and he was rather delighted with it himself.

*

Later that evening, Kay was buzzing around like a mad thing. Everything was fine in the oven. She really didn’t need to keep checking things. The clock, however, was another matter. Teresa had said they would be back by eight ‘at the latest’ but there was still no sign of them. Adam would be turning up at any moment and he would be expecting dinner – with her – but that wasn’t really what she had planned. Oh, no.

She checked the oven one more time. The shepherd’s pie was fine. The assorted vegetables were fine. Everything was ready except the guests.

There was a knock on the door and Kay hoped against hope that it was Gemma. But Gemma would have her own key, wouldn’t she?

Kay rushed to the door and opened it. It wasn’t Gemma at all. It was Adam.

‘Hello!’ he said.

‘Hi. Come in,’ she said, turning her back on him and marching back down the hallway. ‘You’ve not seen Teresa and the gang, have you?’

‘They’re not back yet?’

‘No sign of them at all,’ Kay said, puffing out her cheeks.

‘Oh, well, at least it will be quiet here,’ Adam said, suddenly flourishing a red rose from behind his back.

‘Oh!’ Kay said.

‘I’ll fetch a vase.’ She took the rose and went back through to the kitchen, reaching for a slim vase from the back of a cupboard and filling it with water. A single red rose, she thought. He’d bought her a single red rose. She shook her head. This wasn’t for her and, very soon, Adam would see that too.

‘You need a hand?’

Kay spun round, vase in hand, to see Adam standing in the doorway. ‘No, thank you. You’re the guest and guest rhymes with rest.’ She shooed Adam out of the kitchen. ‘Come and sit in the dining room,’ she said, following as he made his way to the room at the front of the house.

‘Oh,’ Adam said. ‘It’s a bit dark in here, isn’t it?’

‘But the candles are so pretty,’ Kay insisted, placing the rose in the centre of the table. ‘Your eyes will adjust.’

‘Is this because you’re not a very good cook and don’t want me to actually see the food?’

Kay’s mouth dropped open.

‘Only joking,’ Adam quickly said.

‘I’ll just check on the dinner,’ she said, bustling out of the room. She must calm down. He’d only been teasing her. She didn’t want him to get suspicious or jumpy. She had to relax.

She leaned against the sink and took a few deep breaths. At least Adam had turned up. That was half the plan in place.

But where on earth was Gemma?

It had been a long and tiring day. The actors and crew had managed to shoot most of the indoor scenes but would have to come back tomorrow to finish off. They’d even managed to film a quick scene in the garden when the clouds had parted and a sudden blast of sunshine had turned everything golden.

Gemma was relieved that the day was over at last. Once she was back in the comfort of her own clothes and had brought the knitting out of her bag, she began to relax and felt the vestiges of Anne Elliot slipping away and Gemma Reilly return. She was sitting in the minibus, waiting for the others to get out of make-up. Beth was the first to board the bus.

‘God, I’m starving!’ she said.

Gemma looked up briefly from her knitting. Her own tummy was rumbling like a volcano about to erupt but she just wanted to crash out in her room. Maybe she’d grab a bag of chips on her way back to the B & B.

‘You knitting again?’ Beth asked.

Gemma didn’t bother answering. It would only provoke a disdainful response. Actually,
not
answering would provoke a disdainful response too.

‘I don’t get it,’ she said. ‘Isn’t knitting for old women?’

‘Not at all,’ Gemma said. ‘All sorts of people are knitting these days. Madonna, Julia Roberts, Angelina Jolie—’

‘You’re kidding me!’

Gemma cleared her throat. She’d tagged Angelina Jolie on at the end but it might not be strictly true. Still, it sounded good.

‘How do you think she clothes all those children of hers?’ Gemma said, falling into acting mode. It was always a useful skill to have.

Beth looked dumbstruck.

It was then that Sophie, Teresa and Oli boarded the bus.

‘Come and sit here, Oli,’ Beth said, patting the seat next to her. ‘I wouldn’t go anywhere near Gemma. You’re likely to be stabbed by a knitting needle.’

Gemma could feel her face heating up as Oli cast a glance her way.

‘What are you making?’

Gemma held up the little pink jacket for his inspection.

‘Cute!’ he said. ‘Hey, Teresa – look what Gemma’s making.’

Teresa glanced over, her tired eyes widening when she saw the baby’s jacket. ‘That’s gorgeous!’ she said. ‘Let me see.’ She took the seat next to Gemma and her fingers reached out to stroke the soft wool. ‘I love it! Do you make them bigger? I’ve got a five-year-old girl.’

‘That’s just what I was thinking,’ Oli said.

Teresa nodded.

‘I can make whatever size you want,’ Gemma said, surprised at the positive attention her little knitting project was getting.

‘Annabel sure would look sweet in something like that,’ Oli said.

Beth glared at him. ‘I would have thought wool would snag on a child.’

Nobody seemed to be listening to her. They were all watching Gemma as her needles clacked happily together.

‘You really are talented,’ Sophie said. ‘I think you could have your own business if you wanted it.’

Gemma looked up and grinned. ‘It’s just a hobby. Just something I do when I’m—’ she was going to say ‘stressed’ but that wasn’t the kind of thing she wanted Teresa or any of the others to hear. ‘When I’m not doing anything else,’ she said.

BOOK: The Perfect Hero
5.11Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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