Brooke drove out of Trevay and through the darkening lanes towards Pendruggan. She had given Louis a key to Granny’s Nook, on his insistence, and could feel her heart quickening. Would he be there? She drove past the welcoming lights of the Dolphin, the local pub that Louis kept threatening to take her to. She’d love to walk in on his arm and show him off, but then what would happen? Much as she wanted the world to know that this most eligible of princes was taking her out, at the same time she knew that sort of publicity could spell the end of any romance they might be enjoying. Louis was kind and warm and reckless, but he valued his privacy – and, on past history, moved on very quickly as soon as private became public.
Leaving the lights of the Dolphin twinkling behind her, she drove on to Pendruggan and turned left towards the village green. The lights were on in most of the cottages lining the green, but what about Granny’s Nook? Yes, yes – the porch light was on, but the curtains were drawn so that she could see only a sliver of light.
She drew up alongside the familiar black Range Rover, turned off the ignition and breathed a small sigh of satisfaction. He was here.
Louis was in the sitting room, grooving to Justin Timberlake and holding a wine glass.
‘Hey, Brookie.’ He held his arms out for a cuddle and she happily obliged.
A loud cough from the kitchen broke their embrace.
‘Hi, Hutch.’ Brooke smiled at the policeman.
‘Glass of wine, Miss Lynne?’ he asked jokily, waving a bottle in front of her. ‘I recommend this cheeky little plonk to compliment my world-renowned lasagne.’
Brooke laughed and looked at the two men in mock surprise. ‘He shoots to kill and cooks to woo?’
Louis burst into raucous laughter. He loved schoolboy humour. ‘Darling Brookie, we’ve been here for hours getting this ready for you. We did a bit of exploring too. We went over to the village shop for the wine and some tomatoes and—’
Brooke’s face dropped. ‘Oh my God. Did you see Queenie? She’ll have recognised you. She’ll tell everyone you’re here. She runs that shop like a gossip agency.’
Louis took her hands in his and looked down at her terrified face surrounded by its golden blonde curls. ‘Darling, darling, I pulled my cap right down and Hutch did all the talking. Told her he was your brother, come to visit with a mate. It’s all cool.’ He pulled her to him to reassure her.
‘Did she believe him?’
‘Yes.’
‘Sure?’
‘Sure.’
‘Because if news got out that you were here …’
‘It won’t.’
‘Here, drink this.’ Hutch passed her her glass of wine. ‘He’s telling the truth. She hadn’t a clue.’
‘OK then.’ She allowed herself to relax and enjoy the company of these two men who were such fun to be around.
The lasagne was delicious and Brooke complimented Hutch on it. ‘Never fails,’ he said smugly, sitting back in his kitchen chair. ‘All his birds love it.’
There was a moment’s shocked silence while they all registered what Hutch had said. It was broken by Louis: ‘Time for Hutch to do the washing-up while you and I,’ he nudged Brooke in the ribs, ‘leave him to it.’
*
Brooke and Louis left the kitchen and he took her by the hand and led her upstairs to her bedroom. As soon as the door was closed she spoke. ‘Is that what this is? Lasagne, a shag and a good laugh with Hutch?’
He had the grace to look embarrassed. ‘That was clumsy of Hutch – and not true, by the way.’
‘He hasn’t made lasagne for your other girlfriends?’
‘Well, yes. He has.’ He was squirming and she admired him for attempting the truth at least. ‘But only one or two.’
‘One or two lasagnes, or one or two girlfriends?’
‘Have you been on the Taliban’s interrogation course? You’re frightfully good at this.’
‘Answer the question.’
‘I’m obliged to tell you only my name, rank and number, and I must warn you I have been trained to withstand any amount of terrorist interrogation.’ He smiled at her, hoping he could make her laugh.
Brooke was debating whether to create a scene and spoil a lovely evening? Or accept that yes, he had had plenty of girlfriends, that this relationship was leading nowhere and that she’d better enjoy the ride while it lasted. She chose the latter.
‘Well done, Squadron Leader Suffolk. You have passed my test with flying colours. Now kiss me.’
*
Something woke her. She looked at her bedside clock: 2.27. She felt Louis, alert, next to her.
‘Are you awake?’ she whispered.
‘Shh,’ he replied, before slowly and silently slipping out of bed and going to the window.
‘I heard something outside.’
She listened. Her ears straining in the silence. There was a creak on the stair. She moved her head to the sound.
‘That’ll be Hutch. He’s heard something too.’
The bedroom door opened and Hutch’s voice whispered urgently: ‘Sir, get away from the window.’ Louis did as he was told, dropping to the floor. Brooke’s heart was beating like a drum.
‘The garden is clear – I’ve checked,’ Hutch said. ‘But there was definitely someone out there. I heard voices.’ He pulled out a mobile phone and made a call that was answered immediately.
‘This is Papa Lima Two Zero requesting assistance. We need to clear the area.’
Five minutes later and Brooke was on her own. Two more dark Range Rovers had appeared out of the night and six men, two in uniform and four in plain dark suits, had spirited Louis out of Granny’s Nook. Where had they come from? Were they always shadowing her and Louis?
She locked and bolted the front door and checked the back door and all the windows. By the time she got back to bed her clock read 2.36.
Eventually she managed to dose off, but it had been a restless sleep, her imagination running wild. Had there been someone in the garden? If so who? Press? Kidnappers? Someone looking for a lost cat?
She’d heard nothing from Louis and he hadn’t replied to her text. She’d even tried phoning him, but a recorded message told her that the number was not in use. She arrived at rehearsals tired and fretful.
Brooke and Jess were sprawled on the saggy sofas in the green room, drinking coffee from chipped and stained mugs and laughing over a shared joke. Ollie saw Brooke first.
‘Hi, Brooke. Sleep well?’
Brooke painted on her best smile. ‘Sure did. You guys?’
Jess reached her arms above her head and yawned extravagantly. ‘Slept like a baby. This sea air really knocks me and the girls out.’
‘The girls?’ queried Brooke.
‘She has the most adorable miniature dachshunds,’ Ollie chipped in. ‘Ethel and Elsie.’
Brooke did some mental reframing. Ollie and Jess had clearly been getting to know each other. He’d met her dogs … Hmm. Quite an age gap between the two of them – and wasn’t he going out with Red? And wasn’t she engaged to Ryan Hearst? Brooke made a mental note to watch this space.
*
Jonathan was a good director. He understood actors and was paternal in coaxing out their performances and soothing their fragile egos. He had started the day with a vocal and physical warm-up. The entire cast were asked to jog around the stage while laughing deeply from their diaphragms. A young actress called Rowena did the jogging for the Colonel while he walked, with his ubiquitous stick, and laughed in genuine delight at the ludicrousness of it all. While they were running, Dan the stage manager chucked some bean bags into the jogging mass, telling them to toss them to one another at random, backwards, forwards and across. Ollie threw his repeatedly at Jess, who returned them, aiming at his head or his bottom. The laughing became less forced and more real. Brooke was being targeted by the actor playing the baddie who steals her from Ollie. A huge man with a fake tan and muscles to die for, but for all his testosterone and jockeying for male supremacy, women were not his cup of tea. Brooke liked him though and enjoyed lobbing the bean bags at his carefully gelled hair.
The warm-up over, Jonathan was pleased to see it had had the desired effect. The ice was broken and every last shred of inhibition had vanished.
‘Right, everyone. Grab a coffee and a loo break and I’ll see you back here in fifteen for Act One Scene One.’
The day progressed with lots of fun and hard work. Brooke was included in the Ollie/Jess gang and their relationship both in and out of character was clearly a good one.
‘I say, chaps,’ said the Colonel over lunch, ‘I think I shall call you the three musketeers!’
By the afternoon tea break, Brooke had still heard nothing from Louis.
So sure was she that she’d never hear from him again, she offered Jess her spare room in Granny’s Nook. ‘It’ll save you a lot of money, and it would be nicer for the girls: their own back garden, the beach just down the lane …’
‘Would you mind? It would be so nice to live in a home where I could cook my own food and do my own laundry,’ Jess asked hopefully.
‘Would you cook for me too? I’m useless.’
‘Of course I will.’
‘So, when can you and the girls move in? They can be our guard dogs.’ She thought about the prowler in the garden the previous night. ‘Do they bark and growl?’
‘No.’
‘Do they yap?’
‘Yes.’
‘That’ll do.’
*
Finally five o’clock came and they broke for the day. Jonathan was pleased with how things had gone so far. He’d forgotten how enjoyable it could be, working on a traditional English production with a maddening, loveable, idiosyncratic group of actors such as he had here. He was particularly intrigued by Jess. She was calm, with a diligent and thoughtful approach to acting and with a remarkable lack of ego, which was a rarity in their profession.
As they collected up their coats and bags, Jonathan managed a quick word with her.
‘Jess, how did you find today?’
‘Oh, great – exhausting but so much fun. I think all the actors are working really well together, don’t you?’
Jonathan gave her a wry smile. ‘Ye-e-e-es, so far. But don’t forget everyone is on their best behaviour today – including me.’
‘Don’t pretend you have a hidden dark side, I won’t believe it.’
‘I’m a wolf in sheep’s clothing.’
‘Surely not.’ She laughed. ‘Where are you staying, Jonathan? Has Penny blown the budget and put you up in the Starfish?’
‘Sadly not. I’ve forgone the life of luxury and I’m staying at a small holiday let in Pendruggan – paid for out of my salary, I might add.’
‘Pendruggan, that’s brilliant! I’m going to be staying with Brooke in her cottage there. You’ll have to come over for a drink.’
‘I’d love that, Jess. I really would.’ And to his surprise, Jonathan found that he really meant it.
‘What are you doing for dinner tonight?’ he asked.
‘I think Ollie and I are going to grab a bite at the Starfish, probably with our old friend Merlot. Would you like to join us?’
The thought of Jess sharing a tête-à-tête with Ollie was less appealing and Jonathan felt a twitch of jealousy.
‘Um, no, I’m supposed to be going out for dinner with the Colonel to talk about band calls and choreography.’
‘Oh well, another time then. See you tomorrow, Jonathan.’
Jonathan watched Jess trip off to meet Ollie. ‘Careful,’ he said to himself. ‘That was a close call.’
Ollie was in the foyer waiting for Jess to come out of the loo when he had a surprise call from Red. He hadn’t recognised the caller ID and was shocked to hear her voice.
‘Hey, Ollie. How’s it going?’ she asked, as if she’d spoken to him only yesterday rather than three weeks ago.
‘Red. Hi …’ He faltered. ‘I’ve been trying to ring you but I guess the messages don’t get through?’
‘I’m busy, you know. It’s not always possible to speak.’ She sounded mildly contrite.
‘So …’ Ollie didn’t know how to progress the conversation ‘… errr, how’s the tour going?’
‘Good. Great, actually. We’ve got a break before the next big push and I thought I might drop into London to see you.’
‘That sounds … great.’ He tried to inject enthusiasm into his voice. ‘But I’m not in London. I’m in Cornwall … working.’
‘You’re at the seaside?’
‘Yeah.’
‘Are there good fish-and-chip shops?’
‘Yeah.’
‘I’m coming down to get some of them and some of you.’
‘Oh … ah, great.’
‘I’ll get Henrik to sort out a schedule and send it to you. I’ve got to go. Bye, Ollie. I’ve missed you.’
‘Yeah. You too. Bye.’ Ollie looked at his phone. What was this? Red, sounding like the old Red, coming down to see him? His thoughts were interrupted by Jess’s phone ringing. She’d left it on the seat next to him while she nipped off. Caller ID said RYAN, so Ollie answered it.
‘Jess’s phone.’
There was a pause. ‘Who is that?’ The unmistakable voice of Ryan Hearst.
‘Hi, Ryan. Jess has just nipped to the loo, I’m—’
But Ryan didn’t give Ollie a chance to finish. ‘Who are you?’ he demanded imperiously.
‘Ollie Pinkerton. I’m working with Jess on Hats Off, Trevay!’
‘Cast or crew?’
‘I’m an actor.’
‘Tell Jess I called.’
‘I will, nice talking to—’
*
Jess was thrilled to hear that Ryan had phoned. ‘Did he say why?’
‘No. He sounded a bit … busy,’ Ollie managed lamely.
‘That’s him! Always busy. He calls when he can …’
‘Hmm.’ Ollie tried to signal agreement.
Jess was watching as Jonathan and the Colonel headed out of the theatre. ‘He’s a lovely man, isn’t he.’
‘Who, the Colonel?’
‘No, Jonathan.’
Ollie was on surer ground. ‘He is – and a really good director.’
‘Do you think he’s gay?’
‘I’m not sure.’
‘I think he is. He’s just too emotionally intelligent and kind not to be.’
The opposite of Ryan Hearst, thought Ollie.
‘Oh, by the way,’ Jess continued, ‘Louise will be around at the Starfish later. If you want to come down with me, I’ll introduce you – maybe you could strike a deal with her?’
*
They headed out into the car park and watched as Brooke disappeared into the depths of a blacked-out Range Rover waiting for her outside.
‘Wow, she looks happy!’ said Jess as she watched the tail lights move off into the dusk.
‘Sorry I’ve only got the old MG, milady.’ Ollie ushered her to the car and yanked open the creaky passenger door.
‘I wouldn’t have anything different, Pinkerton.’ She did up her ancient non-inertia seat belt while Ollie hopped into the driver’s seat. ‘Did I tell you Ryan bought a Porsche? He drove me and the girls up to the Lakes in it and then proposed.’
‘Did he?’ Ollie faked a smile, thinking all the while, What is this lovely woman doing with an ego-driven shit prick like Ryan Hearst?