A Match Made in Devon

by Cathy Bramley

  ‘Yep,’ he replied, sounding out of breath. ‘How was Kate, what did she say?’

  ‘That she loves you,’ I beamed. ‘That unless we do something else monumentally stupid there’ll be no divorce.’

  ‘Yes!’ I caught the flash of his white teeth as he jumped up from his knees and prepared to hug me.

  ‘Watch the kitten!’ I laughed, leaping away. ‘There was one thing, though,’ I said, my voice more serious.

  ‘Okay.’ Theo shuffled his feet nervously. ‘Tell me.’

  ‘Kate wants to be able to talk to you about Ivy, she doesn’t want to forget about her.’

  ‘I’m on it.’ His face spread into a slow smile. ‘Because I want that too.’

  And then he picked up the lantern so that it illuminated the patch of garden he’d been working on.

  ‘Oh Theo,’ I said, swallowing the lump in my throat, when I saw what he’d created. ‘You’ve nailed it, my friend. You have totally nailed it.’

  I was flagging a bit after another long day, but I couldn’t go to bed without solving something that had bothered me all afternoon: the mysterious case of Maxine and Campion. I deposited Mittens back in the kitchen, pulled a cold bottle of wine from the fridge and set off for Penguin’s Pad.

  The light was on in the open-plan living room and through the window I spotted Maxine sitting hunched over the coffee table, a stack of papers in front of her. I knocked and held the bottle up as she opened the door.

  ‘Wine?’ I said, raising my eyebrows hopefully. ‘A peace offering.’

  ‘You can relax; I’ve calmed down now.’ Maxine rubbed her eyes and stepped aside to let me into her cosy cottage. The little wood stove was lit, as were Eliza’s scented candles and a vase of twisted willow and greenery added a homely touch. ‘But yes to the wine. I’ve been reading non-stop since I arrived, I haven’t even stepped out of the door yet.’

  ‘Oh, you must! If you fancy a guided tour while you’re here, just shout.’

  ‘Thanks, I’ll see how I get on.’

  I found glasses and the corkscrew while Maxine tipped some cashew nuts into a bowl and we arranged ourselves near the heat of the fire.

  I set my glass down on the coffee table and tried to see what she’d been reading.

  ‘A script,’ said Maxine, following my gaze. ‘Get them all the time, but someone thinks I’m going to find this one irresistible. It’s about a vicar locking horns with the greedy lord of the manor. Quite promising, actually, although I’m not sure about the planned location, which is supposed to be on a tiny island. I don’t think there’d be enough scope for the action, or all the different characters needed to make a decent series out of it.’

  ‘Is there a small part for me?’ I asked, only half joking. I tried to read the title of it, but Maxine grabbed the pile and shoved it under the table.

  ‘Hey, nosy.’ She slurped her wine. ‘And shouldn’t you be aiming higher than that?’

  I stretched my legs out, relishing the warmth of the fire.

  ‘I know my limits. I’m not lead actress material. It’s fine,’ I added brightly, catching her baffled expression. ‘I’m just being realistic. There are plenty of great roles for me to go after. I’m not saying I’m not a good actress, just that the main parts go to the beautiful girls, the ones with swishy blonde hair, long legs and cheekbones sharp enough to slice cheese on.’

  ‘Is that so? Someone had better let Julie Walters, Emma Thompson and Meryl Streep know, then, because they obviously didn’t get the memo,’ she said crossly. ‘Honestly. Who fed you that rot? Sebastian?’

  ‘Amongst others.’ I stared into the flames, remembering my mum’s comment when I announced that I was going to be an actress. About being the chubby and cheerful best friend. It hadn’t stopped me, of course; if anything her lack of faith in me had made me more determined than ever. I wasn’t so chubby these days, either. ‘Sebastian told me more than once that I lacked a certain star quality, unlike Cecily Carmichael.’

  Maxine frowned and wagged a finger at me. ‘Your performance in Victory Road has got star quality by the bucket load. And after tonight’s episode, when you’re crushed inside that house in the bombing raid, you’ll be bombarded with messages from viewers, you wait.’

  ‘Thank you,’ I said meekly, making a mental note to log on to the WiFi and check everything tonight.

  ‘And as for Cecily,’ she said ominously, ‘watch this space.’

  Which was the perfect opening for me to probe into her earlier mood.

  ‘Talking of that particular family, I had no idea her father was coming, I promise.’ I topped up her glass. ‘Theo took the booking and got the name wrong. And I still haven’t got a clue why he’s here; do you think he knew you were coming?’

  ‘Not unless he’s a bloody good actor,’ she said, taking another big gulp of her wine. ‘He was as shocked as I was when we both got off the train and headed towards the taxi rank.’

  I shuddered. ‘In that case, he must be here because of me. When Cecily and I had that very public row, she said her father would be furious. Perhaps he’s here for revenge.’

  Maxine winced. ‘I hate to be the bearer of bad news, dear heart, but I wouldn’t put it past him.’

  My heart sank. I’d rather hoped that that incident was behind me now. ‘You obviously have history, so I’ll take your word for it.’

  ‘Campion is an ex-boyfriend.’ She took a handful of nuts and tipped them into her mouth. ‘It didn’t end well.’

  ‘Ah, enough said.’ I tapped my nose, expecting that to be her last word on the matter. Maxine never, ever revealed details about herself. It was her thing. She was a mistress of compartmentalization. At work she was intensely private and totally work-centric.

  ‘The only ex-boyfriend, as it turned out,’ she said under her breath.

  ‘You don’t have to tell me anything,’ I said, secretly hoping she’d tell me everything.

  ‘Of course I don’t. But I shall, nonetheless.’ She got up, shoved some more wood inside the stove and sat back down. ‘Because it’s time, Nina. It’s time.’

  Her gaze fell on the fire and she let out a heartfelt sigh.

  ‘Campion and I got together forty years ago. Before you were even born,’ she said with a wry smile. ‘Ridiculous, looking back. We were never suited, right from the beginning. Two strong-willed, ambitious young creatures; we were constantly at loggerheads. And that brought its own electricity, as you can imagine,’ she said knowingly over the top of her glasses. ‘We met at Elstree Studios; he was a junior set designer. I was a runner on the set of Star Wars, can you believe? What a golden age that was to make films: there was no computer technology back then.’

  I settled back in my seat, loving this story already.

  ‘I threw myself into my job with gusto. My father had recently died and work was a form of therapy for me. But Campion wasn’t so content. He had his own vision, couldn’t take direction and he had continual battles with his boss, insisting that his ideas were better than everyone else’s. I was amused by him, I suppose, and impressed by his tenacity. I’d come from a very submissive family where everyone quietly got on with what was expected of them and didn’t question it.’

  My eyebrows flew up; Maxine and submissive weren’t two words I’d ever heard in a sentence before.

  ‘Yes, well, I’ve come a long way since then,’ she said with a chuckle, catching my expression. ‘He was too possessive right from the off, which never sat well with me, so I began to ease myself out of the relationship. And then bam – I fell in love with someone else. Hopelessly, breathlessly in love.’

  Her eyes had softened but then she seemed to give herself a shake and resumed in her normal brisk tone.

  ‘I realized that what I had with Campion was nothing more than friendship. So I finished with him. Now let me tell you, Campion is not a man who likes to lose. He started stalking me, following me home, ringing me late at night and at work, when our paths crossed, I could feel his eyes tracki
ng my every move.’

  I rolled my eyes. ‘As if that was going to win you back.’

  ‘Then someone from Elstree left to go to the BBC Studios in White City and offered me a job as her assistant. It was a step up the ladder and a chance to get away from Campion. I grabbed it with both hands. Campion didn’t take my promotion well. And having happiness on the work and love-life front helped me cope with my mother who was still drowning in the grief of losing Dad.

  ‘It was while I was working out my notice that Campion stalked me one last time and found me in a dark smoke-filled club in Soho with my new love. It was late and we’d been drinking and I leaned in for a kiss and—’

  There was a loud rap at the door and both of us started. Just as she was getting to the good bit …

  ‘Please open up, Maxine; I’d like a word.’

  We stared at each other, frozen to the spot.

  ‘I could pretend I’d already gone to bed,’ she hissed.

  Campion’s jowly face appeared at the window, his hands cupping around his eyes. ‘There you are. Chop chop.’

  ‘Damn it. Might as well get it over with,’ she said, setting her glass down.

  I sprang up. ‘I’ll let him in and leave you two to talk.’

  ‘You’ll do no such thing. Sit back down.’

  I did as I was told and she stomped over to the door.

  ‘Fancy a nightcap?’ Campion held out a bottle of brandy and waggled it at her.

  ‘I thought you said you wouldn’t be bothering me at night.’ She blocked his way, arms folded.

  ‘I think we’ve got unfinished business, don’t you?’ he said gruffly.

  ‘You can’t hurt me now, you snake, so why don’t you slither back under your rock and bugger off.’

  The hairs on the back of my neck prickled; I leapt up to join her at the door to see Mr Carmichael lower himself precariously to his knees. His expression flickered when he spotted me but he carried on nonetheless.

  ‘Let me apologize. I’ve always loved you.’

  ‘Oh, please.’

  ‘I know, I know, hard to believe, given my behaviour. But I did, I do, even after I understood why you broke it off between us. I never got over you really,’ he said with a sniff. ‘I married eventually, had Cecily. Didn’t last, of course – the marriage, that is; Cecily is still alive and kicking, as you know.’ He shot me a sour look. ‘I’ve admired you from afar. Too proud to get in touch. Should have apologized years ago.’

  ‘You should,’ she agreed, nodding. ‘But you didn’t. Get up, you old fool, and come in.’

  I coughed discreetly. ‘I should probably go.’

  She jerked her head back to the living room.

  ‘Sit. I’ve started so I’ll finish.’

  I resumed my position in the armchair. Mr Carmichael stared at me resentfully from the far end of the little sofa while Maxine fetched him a glass.

  ‘Always fancied a little bolthole by the sea,’ he said, looking round. ‘Somewhere to come and paint surrounded by cliffs and clouds.’

  ‘I was halfway through telling Nina how you tried to ruin my life,’ she said, ignoring his comment. She sat as far away from him on the sofa as possible. She looked at me, chin tilted. ‘In case you hadn’t guessed, Nina, my new love was a woman, Joy.’

  I had to fight my own jaw to stop it from gaping open. Up until now I don’t think she’d even told me when her birthday was let alone anything as personal as this.

  ‘I hadn’t guessed and I’m honoured that you’ve confided in me.’ I reached for her hand and squeezed it. Maxine being gay was of no consequence to me. But the tremor in her voice told me just what it had cost to make such an admission about her private life.

  ‘Campion said I had to finish with Joy immediately or he’d make sure everyone knew about me.’

  Mr Carmichael poured himself a large brandy.

  ‘I thought if I couldn’t have you, nobody should,’ he said gruffly. ‘I was humiliated and I lashed out. I’m not proud of my actions.’

  ‘I should think not,’ I said indignantly.

  ‘Different times then, of course; lesbians weren’t the done thing at the BBC,’ he said. ‘Now if you’re gay you’re welcomed with open arms. Diversity they call it.’

  Maxine shot him a venomous look.

  ‘It wasn’t the BBC I was worried about, you baboon. It was my mother. She had very traditional views about men and women and marriage. It would have broken her heart to know I was gay. Especially coming so soon after my dad’s death. I couldn’t do it to her.’

  ‘The Maxine I know wouldn’t have given in to being bullied,’ I said.

  She regarded me for a moment, acknowledging my compliment with a sad smile.

  ‘But I did and it broke Joy’s heart.’ Her eyes were definitely brimming with tears now. ‘I had been her first girlfriend. She was so confused by my desertion that she suffered a breakdown. And I have regretted being a coward every day of my life. I never heard from her again. I turned my back on who I was and who I loved to save face, and I’ve had to live with that for my whole life.’

  ‘I hope you’ve lived to regret it too?’ I said to Mr Carmichael.

  ‘I was a young, selfish fool.’ His face sagged and for a moment he looked like a vulnerable old man. But then his expression lifted and he looked at Maxine, full of hope. ‘But now here we are, four decades on.’

  ‘I’m still gay, before you go any further, it wasn’t just a phase,’ she retorted. ‘Once Mum died I fell in love again with Paul, short for Pauline. I keep my private life to myself, but if you were thinking of threatening me again, forget it. I’m at the top of my game professionally. I know who I am and I’m proud of it.’

  ‘Hear, hear,’ I said, raising my glass.

  ‘And I’m a grumpy, self-centred, conceited fool,’ Carmichael grunted. ‘But do you think we can be friends?’

  Maxine scowled at him. ‘Let’s start with frenemies and take it from there.’

  He held out his glass, she chinked hers against it and both of them drank.

  I let out a breath of relief.

  ‘I’m going to wish you both goodnight. Unless …’

  They both looked at me expectantly.

  ‘Nothing.’ I swallowed hard. ‘Goodnight.’

  I let myself out and crossed the courtyard back to Driftwood Lodge.

  Unless anyone has anything else to confess, I was about to add, but it was late enough and although Campion Carmichael still hadn’t revealed exactly what had brought him to Brightside Cove I had had enough surprises for one day.

  Chapter 27

  Next morning, I set off for the Mermaid Gift and Gallery. Eliza had left the keys to the shop under a plant pot and after buying a takeaway coffee from The Sea Urchin next door and a packet of Jammy Dodgers from Jethro, I’d settled myself in for the morning behind the counter. By lunchtime, I’d reached the conclusion that a career in retail was not for me. After four hours cooped up I had cabin fever.

  So far, I’d sold some nautical bunting, an abstract driftwood sculpture and a canvas of Brightside Cove. In between customers, I’d watched last night’s episode of Victory Road on Theo’s laptop.

  I stared out of the shop window towards Big Dave’s Lobster Shack and then let my eyes focus on my reflection in the glass instead. There she is, Nina Penhaligon, minding a shop for a friend. Later on she’ll go back to the holiday cottages she’s helping to run and look through cake recipes …

  What was I doing here; I mean, actually doing? Theo didn’t really need me, not any more. Kate would be back soon and I’d definitely have to be off then. But off where, exactly? Trudy had filled my room with students, my role in Victory Road was all but over, I had no agent, nothing in the pipeline …

  I dropped my head into my hands and groaned.

  The bell at the door dinged and Campion Carmichael swept in in his mac and trilby.

  ‘Lamenting the end of your TV career, are you?’ he said, casting an arrogant eye around
Eliza’s dear little shop. ‘I heard you’d been dropped from Victory Road.’

  I arranged my features in a bewildered smile. ‘You heard wrong, I’m afraid,’ I said with more confidence than I felt. ‘How’s Cecily getting on with the filming of Mary Queen of Scots?’

  ‘It’s a challenge for her,’ he said vaguely, heading for the canvases on the back wall. ‘But that’s the sort of thing my family thrives on. When we want something badly enough we generally get it.’

  Urgh, this man gave me the creeps; I couldn’t abide the type who railroaded everyone else to get their own way. He peered at a small watercolour of the cove, took it from the wall and turned it over.

  ‘Very popular those are,’ I said. I had no idea if that was true, but the sneering look on his face made me want to defend them.

  ‘No accounting for taste,’ he said and turned away.

  ‘Can I interest you in a ship-in-a-bottle, or a shell mosaic, or was it me you’re looking for? Cecily did warn me that I might hear from you after our incident. Not that I didn’t try to apologize at the time.’

  ‘Don’t flatter yourself that I’d travel to the ends of the country to see you,’ he scoffed. ‘I’m here on business. And anyway, as much as I abhor social media, Cecily hasn’t done too badly after your little spat. A bit of wounded pride, nothing more, and we all have to deal with that from time to time.’

  ‘Yes, how are your knees from all that grovelling last night?’ I said innocently.

  He ignored me and pulled a piece of paper from his pocket. ‘Do you know where this is?’

  He was holding up the Mermaids of Mayfair article from the Daily News that Robin the journalist had shown me on Sunday. He stabbed a finger at the picture of the hen party girls lined up in their mermaid tails in front of the slipway and behind it, the lifeboat house.

  Alarm bells began to sound in my head.

  ‘The section of beach just past the harbour is very nice. Great view over the sea wall, if you mean the beach generally?’

  ‘I mean the lifeboat house. Specifically.’

  ‘Right.’ My mouth had gone dry. ‘Turn left out of the shop and keep walking as far as the path allows. You can’t miss it.’