by Jill Mansell
“Well, why don’t we start with Les Misérables?” Wyatt opened the passenger door for her with a flourish. “Seeing as it’s your favorite.”
They chatted and sang their way down the motorway. The rain stopped, and as Penny had promised, the sun came out. By 4:30, they’d reached St. Carys and were checking into the Mariscombe House Hotel, which was thankfully living up to its excellent online reputation.
“I’ve never been here before.” Penny was gazing at the view. “But I love it already.”
A passing waitress said cheerfully, “Ah, this place has magical powers. Once you’re under its spell, you’ll never want to leave.”
They unpacked in their separate rooms and met up again downstairs.
“I’ve already taken a million photos from my bedroom window.” Penny’s eyes were sparkling. “Seriously, it’s just so gorgeous.”
“Don’t get too settled; we’re leaving in the morning. But you might like the hotel in Saint Ives even more. You look lovely, by the way.” Wyatt stepped back to admire her; she’d changed into a lime-green sundress and ribbon-tied lilac sandals, and given herself another spritz of perfume.
“Thank you. So do you. Hang on, let me just…” Reaching over, she straightened the collar of his favorite polo shirt. “There, that’s better. What time are they expecting us?”
“I said we’d be with them at five thirty, so we should probably head over there now.”
* * *
“I just heard the gate open.” In the kitchen at Menhenick House, Kit said, “Sounds like Jilted John’s turned up.”
“Don’t call him that.” Lainey flicked a tea towel at him. “Poor Wyatt. And he wasn’t jilted.”
“Because you have to be engaged before jilting can happen, and he didn’t even manage to get that far.”
“He must still be heartbroken. We’ll have to be really nice to him.”
“Hang on, there are two sets of footsteps.” As Kit said it, they both heard the sound of female laughter outside and looked at each other, eyebrows raised.
“Maybe he’s got himself a new girlfriend,” said Kit, “and now he’s here to pick up the ring so he can try proposing to her instead.”
But when Lainey flung open the door, there was Wyatt with Penny at his side, and they were both looking so happy together.
“Lainey? Hello again! I didn’t know if I’d recognize you, but I do. Plus, I cheated and looked you up on Facebook.” Wyatt thrust a huge and fancy bouquet of roses into her unsuspecting arms, then tried to give her a hug, which didn’t quite work, what with the flowers getting squashed between them.
“It’s lovely to see you. Both of you.” Turning to Penny, Lainey said, “We didn’t know you were coming too… Does this mean you’re back together?”
Oh wow, as soon as he got the ring back, was he about to go down on one knee and propose all over again?
“We aren’t back together,” said Penny. “Not in that way, at least.”
“We just missed each other,” Wyatt chimed in. “As friends.”
“Best friends.” Penny nodded. “We love spending time together.”
“She agreed to come down here with me this weekend, so we could go to the wedding together and I wouldn’t have to feel like a third wheel.”
“I didn’t agree to come along,” said Penny. “I offered. And I’m so glad he said yes. We’re having the best time,” she went on happily. “Even the journey down here was great. We sang all the way!”
“Well, that’s fantastic. And you didn’t have to do this.” Lainey indicated the flowers, which bore the name of a London florist so famous even she’d heard of them.
“This is for you too.” Wyatt produced a bottle of Cristal. “And if you’re free, we’d love you to join us this evening for dinner at Mariscombe House.”
“Dinner this evening?” The half-open kitchen door was pushed fully open and Richard came in, his eyes lighting up at the sight of the champagne. “Am I invited?”
Wyatt and Penny visibly boggled at the unexpected arrival of an ancient Hollywood icon in a battered straw hat, checked shirt, and crumpled trousers. Wyatt swallowed and attempted to gather his wits. “By all means, Lord… Sir… Of course, it’d be an honor.”
“If that’s chilled”—Richard indicated the bottle—“it seems a shame not to open it. So you’re the fellow who lost the ring, are you?” He nodded at Penny. “And you’re the one who turned him down and did a runner?”
“Well, kind of,” said Penny. “Sorry if I look a bit shell-shocked, but you’re my gran’s favorite actor.”
“Always the grans.” Richard looked mournful. “Nature’s way of reminding me how ancient and decrepit I am. You’ve come along with him to collect the ring, then? Had second thoughts about turning him down?”
Penny smiled and shook her head. “Nothing like that. We’ve decided we’re better off as friends.”
“Oh dear, was he rubbish in bed?”
“Richard!” Mortified on their behalf, Lainey shot him a warning look. “Stop it, that’s rude.”
Renowned for the impulsive remarks that had made him such a hit on chat shows over the decades, Richard said, “I think it’s a perfectly reasonable question.”
“It’s definitely a great way not to get invited out to dinner,” said Lainey.
Wyatt turned to her. “Hey, we had no idea this was who you were working for now. It’s fine. No worries. It’s an honor to be made fun of by Sir Richard Myles.”
Richard rummaged in the deep pocket of his cream linen trousers and pulled out the diamond ring that had spent the last three weeks locked in his safe. Holding it toward Wyatt, he said, “So does this mean I’m still invited to join you?”
“Of course you’re invited, Sir… M’lord… Of course you are.” Wyatt turned as the kitchen door opened once more and Majella popped her head round. His ears turning pink, he gestured expansively. “Everyone’s welcome to join us. The more the merrier!”
* * *
Seth was still up in Bristol, and the twins stayed at home with Harry and the dogs, so there were six of them in the end, occupying a corner table in the hotel’s busy restaurant. Richard sat with his back to the other diners, to avoid their endless glances in his direction. Champagne was poured, toasts were made, and the conversation flowed. Lainey, having privately had her doubts about how well Wyatt and Penny’s just-good-friends plan would work out, began to think it might stand a chance after all.
And how lovely it was to see him happy again, cheerfully admitting that the surprise wedding proposal had been a terrible idea in the first place.
“Although the chateau was great,” he continued. “Couldn’t fault it. Mom was talking about it just the other day, saying what a fantastic place it was. Dad said he’d take her back there for a holiday in September if she wants.”
“Except they aren’t taking any more bookings,” said Kit.
“You mean it’s full?” Wyatt looked alarmed. “Booked up for the rest of the season?”
Lainey shook her head. “Kind of the opposite. They couldn’t manage to keep the business running. The place is up for sale now.”
“Oh no, I had no idea. That’s awful!” Wyatt sat back in dismay. “Couldn’t they just, like, borrow some money to get them through?”
“They’d already done that,” said Kit. “All their savings were gone, and the bank wouldn’t lend them any more. That’s the reason we came here,” he explained. “Biddy and Bill had to let us go.”
“Well, that’s a crying shame. Mom and Dad’ll be so disappointed. They were looking forward to staying there again. So what are Biddy and Bill doing now? Did they move back to the UK too?”
“They’re still there,” Lainey explained. “Trying their best to persuade someone else to buy the chateau. It’s OK. It’ll happen eventually. I called Biddy last night and told h
er you were coming down today. She sends her love and says she hopes you’re feeling a bit better now.”
Wyatt exchanged a smile with Penny. “You can tell her I am.”
“We both are,” said Penny. “Oh, is everything OK?”
“Everything’s fine.” As soon as she’d said it, Lainey realized that Penny hadn’t been addressing her. To her left, Kit had frozen with his glass halfway to his lips and was staring across the room.
Following the direction of his gaze, Lainey observed two men leaving the outside terraced area, making their way through reception. The man closest to them was tall, dark, and built like a rugby player, while the other, largely hidden from view, was shorter and slimmer. The next moment, she caught a glimpse of spiky white-blond hair and realization dawned.
The next next moment, as they came into full view, they stopped walking and turned to face each other. The dark-haired man said something to Tom, who replied with a playful smile and slid his arm around his companion’s waist. They leaned closer, words were exchanged, and Tom reached up affectionately to stroke the side of the other man’s jaw. Then they made their way across the hall, ascended the staircase together, and disappeared from view.
Lainey heard Kit exhale. Under cover of the table, she gave his knee a consoling squeeze. His first date with Tom had gone brilliantly. At the end of the evening, Tom had promised to be in touch soon but had warned Kit that, for the next couple of weeks, the bar was crazy busy and he might not be able to spare the time to get away.
In a low voice, Kit murmured, “When he said he was going to be rushed off his feet, I didn’t realize he meant by a fullback.”
“Sorry.” Lainey felt for him. It wasn’t her fault, but what else could she say?
She’d tried to gently warn him about Tom’s reputation, but it was one of those situations where, if you were the besotted one, you really needed to learn about it for yourself.
And she knew only too well how that felt; hadn’t she been gullible enough to believe that Anton would want to keep her in his life when they left the chateau?
She dismissed the memory; time had swiftly healed that small wound, thankfully, and she barely thought of Anton now. When she came across his updates on Facebook, she no longer harbored any desire to be the girl at his side.
Hopefully Kit would make a similarly speedy recovery.
“Tom doesn’t deserve you,” Lainey whispered in his ear. “You can do so much better.”
Across the table, Wyatt was looking concerned because Kit was still holding his glass without taking a drink. “Is there something wrong with the Laurent-Perrier?”
Recovering himself, Kit looked at the glass and grinned. “Are you kidding? I’ve never met a champagne I didn’t like.”
* * *
Once dinner was over, they headed out onto the terrace. Stars twinkled like sequins in the navy-blue sky and the trees on the grounds were strung with fairy lights. Dot Strachan, one of the owners of the hotel, showed them to another discreetly positioned table where Richard wouldn’t be bothered by tourists, and Richard promptly swept Dot—who was glamorous and in her seventies—into a bit of a waltz that instantly caught the attention of everyone on the terrace.
“I don’t know why we bother trying to look after him,” Dot laughed once he’d twirled her around the tables and back again.
“Because you adore me,” said Richard. “Almost as much as you adore that lucky husband of yours.”
Dot’s eyes sparkled. “Ah, that’s probably why.”
More drinks arrived, the conversation continued to flow, and when someone approached their table twenty minutes later, it took Lainey a couple of seconds to recognize who it was.
Normally the woman’s hair was loose and windblown and her clothes and footwear were on the frumpy side. This evening, by contrast, she was wearing what looked like her very best dress, with medium-heeled patent shoes, and her hair was fastened up in a bun. She was even wearing blue eyeshadow and peach lipstick.
“Oh my word, Sir Richard, how lovely to bump into you here!” Pauline came to a halt in front of him, her face lighting up. “My goodness, look at you all, drinking champagne!”
Wyatt, the hospitable host, said at once, “If you’re a friend of Sir Richard’s, let me pour you a glass,” and reached for the bottle in the ice bucket.
“Oh, no, no, I couldn’t. That’s very kind but I’m more a fan than a friend…well, just a fan really…and I have my water.” Pauline held up her own half-full glass. “I can’t believe how expensive the drinks are here! I asked for a mineral water, but even that was quite pricey, so I got them to give me normal water from the tap. And that was free!”
“Well, good. And so it should be.” Next to Wyatt, Penny gave Pauline a warm smile. “And are you here with friends?”
“No, I’m on my own. My next-door neighbor knows I’m a fan of Sir Richard, and she told me she’d seen him coming into the restaurant earlier, so I put on my best clothes and did myself up so they couldn’t refuse to serve me at the bar. I hardly recognized myself when I looked in the mirror, I can tell you!” Pauline smacked her lips together and beamed. “It’s been a few years since I last wore lipstick!”
“You look lovely,” Penny assured her. “My gran’s a big fan of Sir Richard too. I can’t wait to see her face when I show her the photo we took earlier of the two of us together!”
“Oh…” Pauline’s look of longing was enough to melt the hardest of hearts.
Lainey watched as Penny jumped up.
“Here, give me your phone,” she urged the older woman. “I’ll take one of you with Sir Richard, shall I? It’s better than doing a selfie and trying to fit both of you into the frame.”
Majella was biting her lip, doing her best not to laugh, because Penny was a kind and lovely person who was just being helpful, which meant that Richard was now unable to refuse. Forced to get to his feet, he smiled for the camera with Pauline beaming like a lottery winner at his side, while Penny moved around them saying brightly, “There…oops, no. You blinked, let’s just do another one…and a couple more to make sure.”
“Thank you, thank you so much.” There were tears of joy in Pauline’s eyes as she turned to gaze up at her idol. “This is the best day of my life. I never thought I’d get my picture taken with you… You don’t know how much this means to me.”
“That’s fine,” said Richard, clearly uncomfortable and eager for her to leave them in peace.
“It’s not as if he’d ever say no, is it? Gosh,” Penny exclaimed. “How long does it take to have a selfie done? I mean, he’s such a kind person, he’s always going to be nice to his fans, isn’t he? Especially when he knows how much it means to them.”
Even Richard had the grace to look embarrassed at this. Lainey and Majella exchanged a glance and struggled to look as if it were an entirely plausible description of his character.
“I know,” said Pauline, “and I’m sure he is nice. But it’s such a shame he never replies to letters. It would mean so much to the people who’ve sent them to him.”
“Does he never reply?” Penny looked surprised. “Oh, I’m sure he must do sometimes! Once in a while, at least!”
Shamefaced, Richard cleared his throat. “Well, I do my best, but I can’t always manage it. There are just, you know, too many.”
“But I belong to your online fan club and there are hundreds of us who’ve sent you cards and letters and presents.” Emboldened, Pauline continued, “And none of us has ever had a reply. Not that it stops us from writing to you,” she added hastily. “I’m just saying, it would be so nice if occasionally it could happen. Because then at least we’d know you’d seen what we’d written.”
“Of course,” agreed Penny. “That would make a world of difference, I can completely understand that.”
“Well…” Increasingly discomfited, Richard said, “I�
�ll see what I can do.”
“That would be wonderful. You don’t have to write to me,” added Pauline, “but a friend of mine has written to you three times now, and she was so disappointed when you didn’t reply. Her name’s Nerys, and she sent the last one two weeks ago in a turquoise envelope because I told her you once said in an interview that turquoise was your favorite color. It would mean the world to her—”
“Everything OK here?” Dot Strachan was back, having spotted that Pauline was outstaying her welcome. With a charming smile, she rested a hand in the small of Pauline’s back and said amiably, “Shall we leave these people to enjoy their drinks in peace?”
“Of course. Sorry. But it’s been lovely to have the chance to say hello. And thanks for the photos. Thank you so much.”
Penny nodded enthusiastically. “No trouble at all. It’s been lovely to meet you too!”
When Dot had guided Pauline back into the hotel, Majella said playfully, “So that’s you told.”
Richard tipped his head back and took a hefty glug of brandy. “Bloody hell. I don’t have many years left. I can’t spend the rest of my life writing back to people I don’t even know.” He turned to Penny. “I mean, as much as I’d like to.”
Which was a massive fib, obviously.
Lainey said, “Look, I know Pauline’s a bit over-the-top, but she does have a point. Why don’t you let me open the fan mail from now on and go through it, just to see what’s there? We could send out some signed photos every week, maybe answer a few questions. And I’ll do it all in my own time,” she blurted out before Richard could come up with some reason to object. “You’d hardly have to do anything at all. Five minutes a day, maximum. Shall we do that?”
Across the table, Penny and Wyatt were looking expectant. Next to Lainey, Kit was quietly snorting with laughter at Richard being backed into a corner and getting his comeuppance at last.
“Fine, OK, we’ll do it. Five minutes a day.”
Hooray!
“Great.” Lainey beamed at him. “Five, maybe ten minutes. Definitely no more than ten.”
