A Match Made in Devon

by Cathy Bramley

  ‘Thank you.’ He turned abruptly and marched to the door.

  ‘Why do you want to know where that is?’ I called, fighting a rising tide of panic.

  ‘Because that’s why I’m here,’ he said with a smirk.

  I gave an involuntary shiver; I didn’t have a clue what Campion Carmichael was up to but something told me that Jude was not going to be very happy about this development. Not one bit.

  I locked the shop door and stuck Eliza’s ‘back soon’ notice on it. I needed some fresh air, some lunch and some insight into what Campion Carmichael was really doing in Brightside Cove. I stopped off at Jethro’s for some bread rolls and bought a couple of dressed crabs from Big Dave.

  Ten minutes later I’d raced home and made lunch: brown crabmeat mixed with mayonnaise and lemon juice and topped with a layer of the white meat – as per Big Dave’s instructions. Theo was sitting outside with a calculator and a stack of invoices with Mittens on his knee. His cat allergy had subsided a little because of the medication. He still sneezed about ten times in a row now and again, but his eyes were back to their normal colour and as long as he kept the bundle of fur away from his face, things weren’t too bad.

  I left them both licking their lips at the prospect of sharing a crab lunch and took the other two rolls over to Penguin’s Pad.

  Maxine’s eyes looked tired when she opened the door to me.

  ‘Have you even smelled the sea yet?’ I said, hand on hip. ‘All work and no play—’

  ‘Gives me bags under my eyes, yes I know,’ she replied irritably. ‘It is a reading week, though, I’m not here to play.’

  ‘Come on, you’ve got time for a picnic on the beach,’ I said, holding up the bread rolls.

  She glanced back at the heap of reading material on the coffee table and sighed. ‘Sounds like heaven.’

  She wouldn’t change out of her heels, but I did manage to persuade her to put on a thick jacket and we were soon on our way. It took us no time to walk along the coastal path and then drop down to the bench outside Big Dave’s Lobster Shack. I pulled bottles of water out of my bag and handed her a sandwich.

  ‘Oof.’ Maxine sat down heavily and wiped a sheen of perspiration from her brow. ‘I’m so unfit.’

  She swigged her water and tried to catch her breath. I’d got used to striding up and down the coastal paths and could run up the steps from the beach now without panting. And after sitting in the shop all morning it felt good to use my muscles.

  ‘I’ll take you exploring tomorrow and force you to get some exercise.’ I stretched my calf muscles out before taking a seat next to her. ‘If you’re allowed to have some time off, that is?’

  ‘I’ve got two weeks of filming schedules for Victory Road to approve, at least a month’s worth of emails to reply to and four scripts to skim read. So not really,’ she said, pulling a face.

  ‘Remember what you told me to do,’ I chided: ‘drink in experiences, feast on life, and all that. I’m sure it must apply just as much to directors as actors.’

  ‘Too clever by half you are,’ she grumbled, picking up a juicy piece of crab from her lap and popping it in her mouth.

  The sun was hiding behind a veil of thin cloud today, casting a muted palette over the usually vibrant bay, and a sea breeze was rattling masts and churning water into a sea of frothy meringues and making our eyes water. Every so often a wave sent a fine mist in our direction as it broke on the rocks. But even with the softer colours Brightside Cove still looked picture-postcard perfect.

  ‘They’re quaint.’ She wafted her roll in the direction of the pastel cottages.

  ‘They’re fishermen’s cottages,’ I said. ‘That elderly chap down there is the last of the fishermen.’

  Jude’s clients, Nora and Ned, were in their usual positions in deckchairs: him glued to his binoculars, her with her knitting on her lap.

  ‘It would have been quite a sight back in the day, the men mending nets in the harbour, the women waving them off on their quest for a good catch and then watching the sky and the sea anxiously waiting for their safe return.’

  ‘What a romantic image.’ Maxine bit into her crab roll. ‘It is a bit like a film set. I bet it hasn’t changed for a hundred years.’

  ‘The village stores and pub have hardly changed since then, but the clientele has.’

  ‘Tourists?’

  ‘Some but mostly walkers, day trippers and second-home owners.’

  I breathed in the air, closed my eyes and tilted my face to the sky.

  ‘You love it here, don’t you?’

  I grinned at her. ‘If only there was a TV studio tucked away in the hills, I’d never go back to London again.’

  ‘I wouldn’t last long here; all these cobbles would ruin my shoes. And I’m more of a round-the-pool woman, nothing worse than sunbathing with sand blowing in all my crevices.’ She chuckled. ‘What’s that chapel-shaped building near the rocks?’

  ‘Funny you should ask,’ I said. ‘You’re not the only person interested in that today.’

  I told her about the lifeboat house and how important it was to the community and Jude’s plans to save it from being developed.

  ‘And worryingly, it’s also the reason Campion’s here.’

  ‘What would he want with that?’ she pondered aloud, her focus sharpening on the little boat house.

  ‘No idea,’ I shrugged, ‘but whatever his reason, it was important enough for him to make a last-minute booking and hotfoot it to Devon.’

  ‘I’ll invite him in for another nightcap later and see if I can wheedle it out of him.’ She stifled a yawn. ‘That is, if I can stay awake until then.’

  ‘That would be brilliant.’

  I needed to let Jude know as soon as possible. Firstly because of the impact it might have on his plans, secondly because … well, any excuse to talk to him, really.

  I collected up the wrappers from our lunch and popped them in the bin at the side of Big Dave’s shack. ‘And you?’ I asked. ‘Why was your booking suddenly brought forward?’

  ‘At the risk of getting sand in my shoes,’ she said, ‘let’s walk and talk on the beach.’

  I followed her down the slipway to the beach. And for a couple of minutes, the only sound was the push and pull of the tide on the shingle along the harbour.

  ‘The ratings were good last night for your cliffhanger episode,’ she said finally.

  ‘Phew! So you don’t think my leak did any damage?’

  She shook her head. ‘Viewing figures are up again. Which is why …’ She glanced over her shoulder before continuing. ‘Well, I’m leaving the show. Leave on a high, eh? Isn’t that what they say?’

  I gaped at her. The thought of Victory Road without Maxine at the helm was unimaginable.

  ‘But Victory Road is your baby!’

  ‘And I’m proud of it; the show has been far more successful than any of us imagined. I’m riding the crest of a wave on to something even bigger. Whoops, literally!’

  We both laughed as an ambitious wave rolled up the beach and we had to scamper out of its reach. Or rather, I scampered; she tottered on her ridiculous heels.

  ‘Where are you going?’ I asked.

  ‘I’ve been offered an opportunity to join a brand-new TV production company, SparkTV. I’d be able to hand-pick my own team, and they’ve already taken TV rights out on some really juicy novels. Hence the huge reading pile. It’s a big jump and a lot of location work, so I’ll have to get used to being out of London, but I’m excited for the future. I’ve come a long way from being that runner at Elstree Studios in the Seventies.’

  ‘Congratulations!’ I hugged her, hoping I had as much drive and ambition when I was her age.

  ‘Always push yourself, Nina,’ she said, as if reading my mind. ‘Acknowledge your limits but never stop challenging them.’

  I nibbled my lip. ‘I need to sort my life out. Being away from London has helped clear my head. Now I feel ready to take on something new.’ I raked a
hand through my wind-knotted hair. ‘I need to start calling agents, update my résumé. I might not get another role as good as Nurse Elsie, but I need to act in something.’

  ‘Oh, get a grip!’ she huffed. ‘With that attitude you’ll be back to playing corpses on Silent Witness.’

  My insides quivered at the thought. ‘Don’t say that. Holding my stomach in for hours on end was murder.’

  I’d never forget that part. I’d told Archie that I was in the show, but omitted to tell him that I’d be nude for the whole scene. He’d been so proud that he’d invited his mates round to watch me and had been horrified at the first glimpse of his sister’s privates. He’d spent the entire time in front of the screen trying to cover me from the lads’ prying eyes.

  ‘Well, honestly,’ she said, lobbing pebbles into the waves. ‘Yesterday you said you didn’t think you had star quality. What a load of baloney. What do you think makes a great actor? Hmm?’

  I thought carefully, wanting to get it right. ‘Imagination, empathy, creativity, not being afraid of hard work?’

  ‘Exactly!’ she boomed. ‘Even what you’ve told me over lunch shows me that you have all these things.’

  Talk about a boost to the ego.

  ‘Day made,’ I said with a grin. ‘I guess if no one has ever told you you’re good, then …’

  ‘Then tell yourself.’ She rounded on me sternly, her dark eyes blinking behind her glasses. ‘Have you ever heard Meryl Streep speak about how she was turned down for the female lead in King Kong?’

  I nodded. ‘Didn’t the Italian director call her ugly?’

  ‘Exactly! I mean, how bloody dare he? But did she let that knockback ruin her confidence? No. Did that make her think she wasn’t worthy of major roles? It did not. She went on to be one of the most respected actresses in the world. I love her,’ she finished with a heartfelt sigh.

  We reached the bottom of the steps that led up to Driftwood Lodge.

  ‘From now on my mantra will be: Be more Meryl,’ I promised with a smile.

  ‘Excellent. Now I’m going back to put the finishing touches to the cast list for my island vicarage drama,’ she said and raised an eyebrow expectantly.

  ‘Right. Oh,’ I said, realizing she was waiting for me to comment. ‘Do you think there might be a part in it for me?’

  She patted my cheek. ‘That’s more like it.’

  I felt a wave of admiration for her as I watched her trot up the steps towards her cottage.

  And it was only when I got back to the Mermaid Gift and Gallery that I realized something: she hadn’t actually answered the question.

  Chapter 28

  The wind blew fiercely that night. I lay awake in bed listening to the thick thatch creaking above my head, the garden gate rattling against the latch and the distant crashing of waves on the rocks. I felt as restless as the sea. I’d been content just pootling along in Brightside Cove. Theo was good company now that he’d decided to grasp the future with both hands and I was enjoying running the cottages with him, seeing to the guests’ requests and assisting with marketing plans. But now that Maxine was here, acting as a reminder of my other life, I felt as if I should be focusing on my own future and I couldn’t stop wondering about that new drama and whether she would let me audition for it.

  It was time for me to take some action. And I would, I told myself, just as soon as I’d fulfilled my promise to Jude to help him take action of his own.

  Be more Meryl, I chanted softly, pulling the duvet up to my chin. Be more Meryl.

  I must have drifted off at some point because I woke up at five o’clock from a vivid dream. Meryl Streep and I, dressed as mermaids, had emerged from the lifeboat house holding golden Oscars to a round of spontaneous applause from a grinning audience. All except Campion Carmichael, who stood at the back of the crowd booing us both and shouting that we weren’t wanted until Jude threw him in the sea and everyone cheered.

  Ah well, a girl can dream …

  At five thirty I got up and made coffee. I’d come up with a plan and there was no time to waste lying in bed. The wind was still blustery but the clouds had cleared and the skies were streaked in a palette of silvery lavender, pink and powder blue as the sun prepared to make its appearance over the headland.

  I showered and dressed and managed to wait until six o’clock to call Jude. Unfortunately, I only had the number of Deliciously Devon so it took me several attempts to get him to answer the phone.

  ‘Morning! Fancy walking Mabel on the beach before breakfast?’

  ‘Nina?’ His voice was still thick with sleep.

  ‘Correct,’ I said, pleased that he’d recognized me. ‘Come on, I’m bursting with ideas and you need to hear them.’

  He chuckled softly. ‘Can’t you tell me over the phone?’

  I imagined him stretching his muscles, rubbing a hand through the bouncy bit at the front of his hair, blinking those lovely eyes awake. I bet he was all toasty and warm. Perhaps I should offer to go round and take him breakfast in bed.

  ‘Well, I could—’

  ‘I’m kidding. Give me twenty minutes,’ he said, sounding more awake. ‘Meet you at the slipway.’

  Jude was waiting in his van behind the lifeboat house when I got there.

  ‘I know you said before breakfast,’ he said, ‘but an army can’t march on an empty stomach.’

  He handed me a polystyrene takeaway cup with a tiny plume of steam escaping from a hole in the lid and then produced a paper bag from his pocket containing two warm almond croissants.

  I bit into one immediately. It was delicious: sweet and flaky. Mabel sat at my feet and gazed at me imploringly.

  ‘Almost as good as breakfast in bed,’ I said, breaking off a tiny piece for her.

  Jude caught my eye and then smiled into his coffee. ‘Almost.’

  Heat flooded my face. ‘No idea why I said that.’

  He brushed a crumb from my chin, Mabel snapped it up and we both laughed.

  As it turned out the beach was a no-go zone due to the high tide and big waves. Instead, Jude steered me towards the steep path that led up and over the headland. We were both bundled up in our windproof jackets and boots, and we needed to be: the breeze swirled around our faces and we had to press close to each other to prevent our words getting swept away. They weren’t the ideal conditions to hold a conversation but I gathered he’d been in touch with the council, begging them to hear his proposals, and I managed to convey that Eliza needed somewhere for her mermaids to get changed near the beach, which was another use for it to add to the list.

  After about ten minutes of shouting to each other, I was beginning to regret choosing an outdoor venue for this conversation. We rounded a bend to find a bench set a short way down the cliff, sheltered by rocks and thorny bushes. I pointed to it and Jude nodded. Mabel loved the wind, she danced and jumped in and out of the rocks, snapping at swirling leaves, ears flying and tail swishing left and right, but we were both glad to be out of it.

  ‘I’ve been thinking,’ I said once we were sitting down, ‘we need to attract the biggest audience possible to save the lifeboat house. We need to tug at heart strings, ramp up the drama, capture the imagination.’

  ‘Sounds like one of your TV shows.’ He nodded. ‘How do we do that?’

  I smiled. I liked the way he said shows as if I was never off the telly. I also liked how cosy we were; sitting here sheltered from the weather, cocooned from the world, our own private escape. I turned my body towards him so that our knees were touching.

  ‘Firstly, to use your army analogy, we have to mobilize the troops. All the groups you think would benefit from saving the boat house – get them involved.’

  He nodded. ‘Easily done. I can run up some leaflets. Get a couple of lads to post them through doors.’

  ‘Good idea,’ I agreed. ‘We can put them in the pub, and Jethro and Eliza’s shops. Molly can WhatsApp the football mums. I can use Twitter to target some groups: the local history society, the
big new lifeboat station, sailing groups, sea fishing clubs … And I can put a call in to the local radio if there is one?’

  ‘Yes, Devon Sounds. And then what?’

  ‘We get them all to come to a public meeting at the lifeboat house. The bigger the crowd, the better the impact. And we invite the council too. We get them to hear your proposal right there where it matters, and we show them how important this is to Brightside Cove.’

  ‘I like it.’ Jude’s eyes glimmered. ‘At the moment they think I’m a bit of a crackpot who just wants to hold back the tide of progress. This would prove I’m not on my own.’

  You’re not on your own, I wanted to say. I wanted to take his hands and bat my eyelashes at him and hope he got the message that I’d quite like us to be more than pals. But although he was at ease with me, friendly and relaxed, the flirty edge to his body language wasn’t there today and I couldn’t help but feel a pang of disappointment.

  ‘We need to move fast, though,’ he continued. ‘Do you think Friday is too soon?’

  I laughed, pleased he liked my idea. ‘It doesn’t give us much time but Eliza is going to be on national TV later this morning, we can text her now and get her to give our campaign a mention.’

  ‘Whoa. Definitely not,’ Jude said at once. ‘That’s what I want to avoid. We have to do this ourselves, as a community.’

  ‘But surely, the bigger the audience—’

  ‘The more interest we attract from outsiders,’ he finished off. ‘And we don’t want that. The ideal scenario would be that the lifeboat house attracts zero bids at auction. But that’s never going to happen; it’s one of Brightside Cove’s most prized possessions. But we can try to keep the auction on the low. Which means no unwanted attention to the area. Can you imagine if we get people from London down here waving fistfuls of notes at the South Devon council? They’d probably cancel the auction and hand over the keys immediately.’

  People like Campion Carmichael.

  I swallowed down a wave of fear. ‘Then we might already have a problem.’

  Jude’s brow furrowed. ‘Oh?’