own. Of all his family members, it was Nana Craig who was his closest. Whilst his parents had been building their business, Nana Craig was the one who’d cleaned his scraped knees as a toddler, bought his first pair of football boots as a youngster and had read each and every one of his screenplays since he’d scribbled his first attempt as a teenager – a rather embarrassing romance called The Princess and the Pirate. Adam sometimes wished that his nan’s memory wasn’t quite so sharp.
He’d been a screenwriter and film producer for over ten years now and his newest project was the one he’d been planning in his head for that entire length of time, for what screenwriter who lived near Lyme Regis wouldn’t – at some point in their career – turn their attention to Jane Austen’s novel Persuasion?
He had to admit that he hadn’t been a fan of Austen growing up but what young lad was? Austen was for girls, wasn’t she? All those endless assemblies and discussions about men’s fortunes that went on for entire chapters weren’t the stuff to stir the imagination of a young boy. But, as an adult – as a writer – her books, particularly Persuasion, had begun to make their mark and, three years ago, he’d started putting things into motion. And it was all coming together wonderfully. Very early on, he’d managed to get highly-respected director, Teresa Hudson, on board. She had a string of period dramas under her belt and had won a BAFTA for her recent adaptation of Thomas Hardy’s Two on a Tower. It was whilst she was filming that in Dorset that they’d got together and started discussing Persuasion.
Now all the crew and actors were on board and filming had begun. They were due to descend on the unsuspecting town of Lyme Regis soon and Adam was looking forward to that. He’d long been envisaging the scenes he’d written around the Cobb, imagining the fateful leap of Louisa Musgrove and the cautious exchanges between Anne Elliot and Captain Wentworth.
He was envisaging them now as he walked into town, walking down Broad Street with great strides, shielding his eyes from the sun so that he could catch that wonderful glimpse of sea.
He was heading to the bookshop when he saw her. Tall and slim with a tumble of toffee-coloured hair, she was gazing in the window of an estate agent and was frowning. She was wearing a floral dress that was far more summery than the weather and her hands were busy doing up the buttons of her denim jacket in an attempt to keep the nippy breeze at bay. She had a rosy face and intensely bright eyes which Adam wished would swivel round in his direction. But what would he do then? What exactly would he do if she swivelled? It would take a small miracle for a girl like her to notice him.
It was a sad fact that Adam had spent most of his life unattached and it wasn’t because he was unattractive – far from it – but that he was painfully shy when it came to women. He was the man who stood in the corner at the party waiting for the host to introduce him and, whilst he might have a lot more of interest to say than the party bore who didn’t stop talking all night, Adam’s stories would rarely get an airing because of his shyness.
It had always been the same. At primary school, he had been the one to work behind-the-scenes in the school play because he’d been too shy to put his hand up for the acting roles. At secondary school, he’d never dare ask a girl to dance even when encouraged by all her friends to do so. And university wasn’t much better. He’d spent most of his time with his head in his books.
Maybe that was one of the reasons he’d become a writer. Writers were behind-the-scenes sort of people who could hide away for months at a time.
Oh, there’d been a few relationships over the years but they were more happy accidents where he’d been physically flung together with somebody. Like Camille. She’d been the co-producer on his first film a few years ago and he’d fallen head over heels in love with her. It hadn’t lasted, of course. She’d told him she needed someone to take control of her – to tell her what to do. Adam had given her a baffled look and she’d flung her hands up to the heavens as she’d searched for some words to fling at him.
‘You’re so . . . so quiet, Adam!’
You’re so quiet. The words had haunted him down the years – the long quiet years.
As he was mulling on this, a small miracle occurred. The toffee-haired girl swivelled her eyes in his direction and he was met with a warm smile but – being Adam – all he could manage was a smile back before she turned and entered the estate agents.
Chapter Four
Kay was sitting in the estate agents, looking at the frowning face of Mr Piper.
‘I’m afraid we really don’t have much at all, not with your proposed budget, that is.’
Kay frowned back. She’d set aside a large portion of her inheritance to buy a seaside property and he was telling her it wasn’t enough.
‘There’s a little cottage out in the Marshwood Vale. It’s at the top of your price range, though, and only has two bedrooms.’
‘Are you sure there’s nothing in Lyme itself ? I’d really like to be in the town.’
Mr Piper shook his head. ‘Not with the sea view that you want. As I say, properties move very quickly here. It’s a popular spot with people looking for second homes and holiday rentals. Everything’s snapped up immediately.’
Kay puffed out her cheeks. She hadn’t reckoned on Lyme Regis being quite so popular. For a moment, she looked around the small office, eyeing up the overpriced cottages in which you’d be lucky if you could swing a catkin let alone a cat. They were all beautiful, of course, but there was nothing actually in Lyme Regis itself.
‘Perhaps if you looked further along the coast. How about Axmouth or Seaton?’
Kay shook her head. She hadn’t come all this way to end up in Seaton. Jane Austen hadn’t stayed in Seaton and she was pretty sure that there was no Cobb there.
It was then that her eyes fell on a property she hadn’t noticed before: Wentworth House.
Kay blinked in surprise. Wentworth – as in Captain Frederick Wentworth, the magnificent hero from Persuasion. Well, she thought, if that wasn’t a sign, she didn’t know what was. She got up from her seat so she could read the notes.
It had been a former bed and breakfast but needed ‘some modernisation throughout’.
A bed and breakfast. Kay had never thought of that. It was the perfect way to make a living by the sea, wasn’t it? Lyme Regis had been popular with tourists for centuries and that wasn’t likely to change in the foreseeable future and it was a sure-fire way to enable her to live by the sea – right by the sea judging from the photos of the place.
‘Can I see the details for this one?’ Kay said, pointing to Wentworth House.
‘Oh, I’m afraid that’s way above your budget,’ Mr Piper said.
‘Well,’ Kay said, ‘I could go a bit higher. I mean, if I can make a business out of it.’
Mr Piper opened a drawer and retrieved the details, handing them to Kay who looked them over quickly.
‘I’d love to see it,’ she said. ‘How about now?’
The startled look on Mr Piper’s face made Kay smile. She seemed to be doing nothing but startling men lately.
Mr Piper got up from his seat and muttered something about closing the shop. Kay just smiled. She had a feeling she was about to spend a rather obscene amount of money.
Wentworth House was only a short walk away and Kay’s eyes darted around as they made their way there. Lyme had the most wonderful shops. There were stores selling fossils, mouth-watering bakers, pretty boutiques and a delightful bookshop. But she was shopping for a house and she had to keep focused.
‘This is Marine Parade,’ Mr Piper told her a moment later as they walked along the pavement lined with ice-cream parlours that skirted the seafront. ‘Wentworth House is just up ahead.’
Kay’s eyes