The Perfect Hero: The perfect summer read for Austen addicts!. Victoria Connelly

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СКАЧАТЬ had already sussed Gemma’s little knitting quirk.

      ‘Oh, it’s so wonderfully mumsy!’ she’d said, making the word mumsy sound like the foulest of insults whilst also insinuating that Gemma didn’t have a sexy bone in her body. Everyone in rehearsal had turned to stare at Gemma and the ball of lilac wool she was clutching, and there’d been a few sniggers which had cut her to the quick. But Gemma needed her knitting. Not only was it her passion but it calmed her down too. The click clack of the needles was mesmeric and her work in progress took her mind off things when she wasn’t needed on set. At least she didn’t spend her spare time bitching about people behind their backs, she thought, remembering the vitriol which had spilled from Beth’s mouth in between takes in the studio. That woman might have a face that could grace any magazine cover in the world but her language was as foul as a cesspit.

      Gemma closed her eyes. It was people like Beth that really made working in this industry difficult. For some reason, the world of acting seemed to attract some of the nastiest examples of humankind and it pained Gemma that she had to spend hours of her life doing her best to dodge them.

      ‘You ready to rock?’ a voice said, startling Gemma from her thoughts. She looked up to see Sophie enter the room. At least there was one ally on this film set, she thought, thanking her lucky stars that she’d bonded so quickly with Sophie. ‘Time we were out of here.’

      Gemma nodded and got up off the bed, her script in her hand.

      ‘You don’t need that, do you?’ Sophie said light-heartedly.

      ‘Oh, you know,’ Gemma said, ‘it’s just in case. I like to have it with me.’ She turned round and grabbed her oversized bag, her knitting needles poking out of the opening.

      ‘Are they yours?’ Sophie asked in bemusement.

      Gemma nodded.

      ‘I didn’t know Anne Elliot knitted. Can I see?’

      ‘Well, it’s just a little something. It’s not really fin—’

      But Sophie had already pulled it out of her bag and was inspecting it. ‘Oh, it’s adorable!’ she said, holding up a little baby’s jacket in pearly pink wool.

      ‘My sister-in-law’s just had a little girl – Harriet.’

      ‘This is gorgeous,’ Sophie said. ‘Really gorgeous. Could you make one in a size ten for me?’

      Gemma grinned, delighted at the praise.

      Sophie returned the little jacket to her. ‘Into the fray,’ she said and, as they closed the bedroom door behind them, Gemma couldn’t help wishing, with all her heart, that she could stay on the other side of that door with her knitting needles.

      Kay watched as everybody congregated in the hallway. She’d never heard such a small group of people make so much noise before.

      ‘We’ve just had the latest weather report,’ Teresa announced, ‘and we might be able to get a couple of shots in on the Cobb before the heavens open. Anyway, into make-up and costume first and we’ll take things from there.’

      Les opened the door and everybody spilled out into the early morning.

      ‘Bye, Kay,’ Sophie said.

      Kay beamed her a smile. It was nice of at least one of them to remember her. Then Oli turned around and winked at her. Kay’s mouth dropped open but then clamped shut again as Teresa glared at him and pushed him out of the door and Kay turned away in embarrassment. She should be getting on with tidying up, not standing in the hallway flirting with film stars.

      Flirting! He had been flirting with her, hadn’t he? Teresa had said they’d all be wanting an evening meal tonight and Kay had quite enough on her plate preparing to fill theirs without the distraction of flirting.

      As the door finally closed, silence filled Wentworth House. It was funny. They’d only been there one night but the bed and breakfast felt strangely empty once they’d left. Kay looked at the enormous pile of dirty bowls, plates and cups, knowing she had plenty to be getting on with but she had a better idea and, flinging her tea towel over a chair, she took the stairs two at a time, rushing into her bedroom and staring out of the window. Her guests had reached the Cobb now where several vans were already in position. It was too early yet for tourists to get in the way but Kay could see that the area had been roped off.

      She looked around her bedroom. Now, where had she put them? She started hunting through her wardrobe and the drawers of her bedside table. They were here somewhere, she was quite sure of it. Ah, there they were! Tucked away at the back of the second drawer, behind a notebook featuring the face of Mr Darcy, was a pair of miniature binoculars. Kay pulled them out, grabbed a drawing pad and pencil and ran downstairs, pulling on a pair of boots and heading along Marine Parade in the direction of the Cobb. She didn’t want to make a nuisance of herself and so found a quiet stretch of wall along the beach and sat down.

      ‘That’s better,’ she said to herself as she brought the binoculars into focus and settled on the little crowd of people who had joined her guests on the Cobb. There was a lot of pointing going on and everyone looked out to sea where a heap of bruised clouds was looming over the horizon. Teresa was nodding her head and Les was looking as miserable as ever. And Oli was looking handsome. He had such a great profile. Just the sort of profile a heroine would sketch as a silhouette. Kay smiled. What a great idea that would be! She could get him to sit for her one evening and make one of those fabulous Austenesque silhouettes – just like the one Marianne had made of Willoughby in the film adaptation of Sense and Sensibility.

      In the meantime, the artist in her got the better of her and she opened her pad and began sketching. That beautiful slope of his forehead, that perfect nose and strong jaw, the sensual curve of his smile and the buttery floppiness of his hair. Kay quickly sketched – her eyes focusing through the binoculars and then down on her pad, capturing the magic of the man as quickly as she could. She was just putting the finishing touches to it when she looked through the binoculars again. Oli had turned around and he was waving. Kay moved the bin oculars to the right, trying to see who he was waving to and then something odd happened: Oli pointed towards her, a big grin on his face.

      Kay gasped. He was waving at her. She bit her lip and quickly got up to leave but it was too late, of course. She’d been well and truly rumbled. She closed her eyes for a moment and allowed herself a good old cringe. What on earth would Oli think of her now? He’d think she was some ogling star-struck fan. It was awful! She’d just have to try and explain what she was doing.

      You were ogling him, a little voice inside her said as she quickly headed back home.

      ‘No I wasn’t. I was sketching him as part of my work. He is playing Captain Wentworth, after all.’

       You were ogling him! You know you were!

      Kay groaned. She had better things to do than stand around arguing with herself. There was the dishwater to load for a start.

      She was just piling in the dishes and thanking her lucky stars that she’d had the foresight to buy one when there was a knock at the door. For a moment, her heart raced. Maybe it was Oli. He’d raced back to the B & B after seeing her ogling him – watching him. It had suddenly dawned on him that she was the girl for him. How hadn’t he seen it sooner? He should have realised it when she’d been serving him breakfast. Oh, all the time they’d wasted!

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