Dreaming of Mr. Darcy (18 page)

‘Is everything okay?' Kay asked as she reached the hallway.

Clare didn't answer.

‘Annabel!' she called, moving from room to room.

‘What's the matter?' Kay asked as they almost crashed into each other outside the dining room.

‘Annabel's missing! Is she upstairs?'

Kay shook her head.

‘I don't understand. She was here a minute ago. Where could she have gone?'

‘She wouldn't have gone up on the Cobb, would she?' Kay asked.

‘What?'

‘She wouldn't have gone up onto the Cobb?'

‘She shouldn't have left the house,' Clare said, her pretty round face white with anxiety.

‘But I think she must have,' Kay said.

They looked at each other, and a second later, they were both out of the door.

Tell her,' Adam said to himself as he took a bend in the road a little quicker than usual. ‘I have to tell her.'

It was the only way. He knew it. His nana knew it. Soon everybody in Dorset would know it, except Kay. But
how
would he tell her? She was under some crazy illusion that he was in love with Gemma, and he was pretty sure that Kay had fallen under the spell of Oli Wade Owen. Where did that leave things? It was like some Shakespearean comedy where each member of the cast is in love with the wrong person.

Turning into a narrow lane, he startled a pheasant and splashed through a long puddle that hadn't drained away yet. Some of the roads in the valley were still impassable, but Adam had taken the long way around to avoid the worst of the flooding.

‘Kay,' he said as the car reached dry land again, ‘I know I'm not cut from the same cloth as Oli Wade Owen. I'll never be a leading man. I'll never play the great roles that you love. All I can do is write them.'

Adam shook his head. That was too negative. He was doing nothing but showing his own shortcomings, and that would never do.

‘Kay!' he began again. ‘I'm in love with you.'

That was certainly to the point, but would he be able to pull it off? For a moment, he thought of her sweet rosy face and her bright eyes that were always darting about and shining with curiosity. He had never met anyone like her. She was so fresh and funny and—

‘What am I going to say to her?' he said, sighing as he reached Lyme Regis. More importantly, what would she say to him? He dreaded to think. But he had to say something, or he would burst.

***

Kay was running up and down Marine Parade and dodging the tourists in her panic. ‘Annabel!' she called into the wind. ‘
Annabel!
' Her heart was racing in time with the pounding of her feet, but there was no sign of the little girl anywhere.

The arcades! Maybe she was in there. The bright lights and beeping machines might have lured her in. Kay ran towards them, hoping that she'd spot the girl with the long blond ponytail, but when she went in, there were only a couple of teenage boys at the slot machines.

Clare seemed to have had the same idea, because they met outside.

‘She isn't anywhere,' Clare said, her eyes filled with tears. ‘I've been all the way to the Cobb and asked everyone.'

‘Let's get back to the B and B,' Kay said, trying to remain calm. ‘Maybe she's waiting for us there.'

The walk back was a short one, but it seemed to take an age, and when they were in view of the front door, they could see that there was no little girl there waiting for them.

‘Maybe we should call Teresa,' Kay said.

Clare's face crumpled. ‘Oh, God. She'll kill me.'

‘It's not your fault,' Kay said, placing a hand on her shoulder.

‘But I should've been looking after her.'

‘You were.'

Clare shook her head. ‘I wasn't. I'm a terrible nanny.'

‘No, you're not,' Kay said. ‘Come on. Let's get inside and think this through.'

Clare had already thought it through and was on her phone. ‘Teresa? Yes. We're here in Lyme. I don't know. About an hour ago. Yes, we've met Kay. Listen,' she said and then took a deep breath, ‘I can't find Annabel.'

***

Gemma was sitting in a patch of sunlight on some steps leading down into the sunken garden at Marlcombe Manor.

A voice greeted her. ‘Hello.'

She looked up, shielding her eyes from the sun, which was getting quite bright, and saw Rob's face smiling down at her.

‘Hello,' she said. ‘What do you suppose is going on with Teresa?' she asked. ‘She's been pacing up and down like a caged lion.'

Rob shrugged. ‘You've got more chance of finding out than I do.'

‘I doubt it,' Gemma said. ‘I don't like to bother her unless it's absolutely necessary.'

‘But you're the lead actress. You
should
be bothering the director,' Rob said.

Gemma gave a little smile. ‘I'm not that sort of actress.'

‘No, you're not, are you?' he said. ‘But I've seen actresses who never leave the director alone for a second.
What
should
I
do
here? Is this right? What if I do it like that?
They can't make a single decision for themselves. But you're so sure of yourself.'

‘Am I?' Gemma said, sounding genuinely surprised.

‘I mean, you seem to know what you're doing. There's no nonsense about you. You just get on with the job.'

Gemma's eyes widened. This was a whole new Gemma she was hearing about, and it had nothing to do with the one
she
knew.

‘Take that last scene, for instance,' Rob said. ‘It was pretty good, and you got it in one take. Well, you did, but the sound guy managed to wreck it, and then that black cloud passed over.'

‘You were watching it?'

‘Of course.'

‘I didn't realise,' Gemma said, suddenly feeling self-conscious. ‘I thought you guys just got on with your job.'

‘I sometimes do,' Rob said, ‘but there's something about you that is very distracting.'

Now Gemma really was feeling self-conscious, especially when he sat down on the steps next to her, his long jeans-clad legs stretching out in front of him as he made himself comfortable. She looked away into the shrubbery at the far end of the garden.

‘You're a wonderful actress,' he said.

She sighed. ‘Don't,' she said.

‘Don't what?'

‘You don't have to do this.'

He frowned. ‘I don't understand.'

‘Did Teresa put you up to this? Or Sophie?'

‘Put me up to what?' he asked.

‘Flattering me,' Gemma said. ‘Boosting my confidence.'

‘What
are
you talking about? Can't a chap come up and tell you he thinks you're doing a great job?'

‘It's never happened before.'

He looked surprised. ‘Well, it should have.' He cocked his head to one side. ‘You don't believe me, do you? You don't know how wonderful you are.'

‘I'm not wonderful,' Gemma said, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

‘It sounds as if somebody's told you that,' he said in a low voice. ‘Somebody called Kim. Am I right?'

Gemma's eyes shot up to meet his, and she could feel the colouring drain from her face. ‘What gives you the right to say such things?' she said, her voice quiet and guarded.

‘Nothing,' he says. ‘I'm just trying to work things out here.'

‘Why?'

He gave her a smile that unsettled her. ‘Because there's something extraordinary about you.'

‘You don't know me,' Gemma said, and she stood up.

Rob stood up too. ‘Maybe I don't know you all that well,' he said, ‘but I'd like to.'

Gemma shook her head. ‘I've got to get back.'

‘But they don't need you for at least another hour,' he said.

She started to walk away, feeling flustered. Nobody had ever talked to her in that way before. It was as if he could see into her very soul, and it was a very unsettling feeling.

‘Ah! There you are,' Kim Reilly said as Gemma rounded a corner and nearly crashed into her. ‘Good gracious, girl! What
are
you doing?'

‘Nothing. I was just going back—'

Her mother didn't give her time to explain. ‘You really shouldn't be flirting with the crew, Gemma. I saw you with that man, sitting on the steps all cosy together.'

‘I wasn't flirting with him.'

Kim's mouth, which had been recently plumped up with collagen, almost disappeared in a thin line. ‘You have to remember, you're an actress. It isn't right that you should be milling around with such people. They're no more than labourers.'

Gemma's mouth dropped open. ‘Mum—'

‘It's a good job I was here to rescue you.'

‘I don't need rescuing.'

‘Of course you don't. You always make such sensible decisions about men, don't you? Like the time you went out with that doctor who turned out to be married with four children.'

‘He didn't tell me,' Gemma said with a sigh, wishing her mother wouldn't drag out all her mistakes every time Gemma even thought to look at a man.

‘As long as you're my daughter, you'll always need rescuing,' Kim Reilly continued. Luckily for Gemma, one of the girls from wardrobe waved over to Kim.

‘Ah, there's Sherry,' Kim said. ‘What a darling—she's going to do my colour chart for me before we start thinking about costumes. I want to look my very best.'

Gemma groaned as her mother flitted across the lawn, waving to everyone she passed. What had she done to deserve this? she wondered. It was like being ten years old again when her mother used to turn up early at the end of her drama class and holler advice to her from the auditorium. This was much worse, though, because not only was her mother advising her about her performance as an actress, but she was also dispensing advice about her love life, which was incredibly unjust, because when did she have time for a love life? All she had was a big love muddle. Whilst she was harbouring some sort of mad crush on Oli Wade Owen, she was being haplessly matchmade to Adam, and now there was this Rob guy on the scene. Goodness only knew where it would all end!

Clare was crying in earnest, and Kay was doing her best to comfort her.

‘She'll turn up. I'm sure she will.'

‘But where could she be?' Clare asked. ‘She never runs off. It's not in her nature to.'

Kay pursed her lips. She'd never been in a situation like this before. Well, not since Andy Edwards had gone missing in the Natural History Museum on a school trip when she was nine and had been found cowering under the blue whale crying his eyes out.

‘You don't think she went after Oli, do you?'

Clare stopped crying. ‘She adores Oli.'

‘Yes,' Kay said, having seen the evidence for herself.

‘But she wouldn't have left the house, not without saying something.'

‘Are you sure?' Kay said. ‘Are you absolutely sure?'

***

Gemma was having her hair tidied away by a girl from the makeup department when a screech of tires sounded on the gravel driveway.

‘Captain Wentworth's arrived,' the girl from makeup said, her eyes sparkling. It was the usual effect of Oli turning up anywhere. Eyes would sparkle, lips would pout, and hearts would race.

‘Yes,' Gemma said, ‘and Teresa looks ready to pounce on him. He must be horribly late.'

Gemma and the makeup girl had been watching Teresa pacing up and down for the previous twenty minutes. They had never seen her looking so worried. Had something gone wrong? Was the film about to be shut down? Had the money run out?

‘What's it like?' the makeup girl said.

‘What's what like?'

She giggled and looked away. ‘You know—kissing Oli.'

‘I haven't kissed him,' Gemma said, suddenly wondering what sort of rumours were flying around about her.

‘I mean, in the film,' the girl said.

‘Oh!' Gemma said in relief. ‘Well, we've not done that scene yet.'

‘But it's coming up soon, isn't it?'

Gemma nodded.

‘And you'll tell me all about it, won't you?'

‘If you like.'

The girl giggled again. ‘I bet he's a good kisser,' she said. ‘I mean, I've heard he is.'

Gemma wished she'd stop talking about kissing. She had a scene to do with Oli later that evening, and all this talk of kissing was bound to put her off.

‘I heard that he has an affair with every actress he kisses,' the girl went on.

‘Who told you that?' Gemma said, spinning around to face her.

‘It's just what I've heard.'

‘Well, it's probably just a silly rumour, and you shouldn't go around spreading it.'

‘But he isn't involved with anyone, is he?' the girl said. ‘It's not like he shouldn't be allowed to have some fun.'

That was true enough, Gemma thought. Oli was one of those types who wouldn't settle down until he was at least forty-five, and then he'd probably have about a dozen kids and live on a vineyard in the South of France, telling the press how he turned his back on the bright lights of fame and had found the simple pleasure of farming and family. And Gemma would play no part in it, because he wasn't interested in women like her at the moment. He wanted them young, stunning, and fun. He wanted the kind of woman who could stay up partying with him all night. He wouldn't want somebody whose perfect evening was to sit down with a new ball of wool to dream up a new design for a waistcoat. Gemma would never be exciting enough for someone like Oli, so why did she have to go and fall for him? It really was perverse.

‘Who's that girl?' the makeup artist asked, breaking into Gemma's thoughts about how unfair love could be.

Gemma looked across the lawn expecting to see Oli arm in arm with a skinny model, but he was holding the hand of a little girl with a blond ponytail.

‘I don't know,' Gemma said.

At that exact moment Teresa saw him, and Gemma and the makeup artist watched as she launched herself towards Oli with the speed of a cheetah.

‘Annabel!' she cried.

‘Mummy!'

‘Mummy?' Gemma said. ‘That's Teresa's daughter?' She suddenly remembered Teresa mentioning her daughter on the minibus and how she'd love one of Gemma's knitted outfits for her.

Gemma and the makeup artist watched as Teresa spun the little girl around, hugging her close.

‘Where have you been?' Teresa cried.

‘She's been with me, silly,' Oli said, coming forward with a big smile.

‘What were you thinking?' Teresa shouted at Oli, causing everyone on the film set to stop what they were doing and watch.

‘What are you on about?'

‘Everyone's been worried sick!'

‘What's the problem?' Oli asked. ‘She wanted to see her mother, and I thought it would be fun.'

‘Clare's been in tears, Oli,' Teresa said.

Oli frowned. ‘I don't understand.'

‘You can't just run off with a child like that.'

‘But I didn't run off. I told Clare,' Oli protested.

‘You told her to her face?' Teresa said.

‘What do you mean? Bel went through to ask Clare's permission, didn't you, Bel?'

Bel hid her head in her mother's skirt and didn't say anything.

‘Annabel—did you go and ask Clare permission to leave with Oli?' Teresa asked.

Oli raked a hand through his hair as he waited for her answer.

‘I didn't think she'd let me come,' Annabel said in a quiet voice, ‘and I wanted to see you.'

Teresa sighed. ‘For God's sake, Oli—you can't believe the word of a child. You should have told Clare yourself what you were doing.'

‘But I did,' he said. ‘I shouted through before I left with Bel.'

‘But Clare's partially deaf, Oli! She needs to be able to read your lips.'

‘What?' Oli's face fell. ‘I had no idea! God. I'm sorry.'

‘You should be,' Teresa yelled. ‘Don't
ever
do anything like that again!'

‘I won't,' Oli said, his face pale.

Everyone watched as Teresa stalked towards Marlcombe Manor's front door, Annabel's hand tightly held in hers. ‘Five minutes, everyone,' she yelled. ‘We've wasted enough time today.'

***

When Clare's mobile rang at the bed and breakfast, both she and Kay jumped.

Clare answered it, holding the phone to her left ear. ‘Teresa?'

Kay's heart hammered in her chest as she waited to hear more.

‘Really? Oh, thank goodness!' Clare said, her eyes closing. ‘No, he didn't tell me. And she's okay?' There was a pause. ‘All right. No, that's fine. I'll see you later on. Thanks, Teresa.'

‘She's safe?' Kay asked.

‘She's with Teresa. Oli took her with him.'

‘What? He just took her?'

‘Apparently he told her to check with me, and she told him she had, and then Oli yelled through to us before he left. Did you hear him?'

‘No,' Kay said. ‘I mean, I heard the door close and knew he'd gone, but I didn't know he'd taken Annabel with him.'

Clare shook her head. ‘He didn't know I'm partially deaf,' she said. ‘I usually get by with this rather poor excuse for a left ear and lip reading, and I think Annabel's taken advantage of that.'

‘Oh, dear,' Kay said.

Clare sank down into a seat. ‘I guess she really wanted to see her mum.'

‘I guess so.'

There was a knock at the door. Kay got up, wondering what on earth could possibly happen next.

‘Adam,' she said a moment later.

‘Hello,' he said, a tiny smile lighting his face. ‘May I come in? There's something I'd like to talk to you about.'