Chapter 13

Over at Pine Lodge, the sun had set behind the trees without Lizzie even noticing. Earlier she’d received an email from her editor suggesting a replacement ghostwriter, a woman this time, as she’d requested. But after some googling and finding a video on YouTube of the ghostwriter being interviewed about her career, she’d found herself wincing each time the woman wrinkled her nose and did a weird lizard thing with her tongue. No, it was no good. If they were going to be spending countless hours together on Zoom, she couldn’t cope with that happening every few seconds.

Aware that it wasn’t the done thing at all, she’d set out a couple of hours ago to find someone herself. If researching holiday homes online was one of her favourite things to do, why not apply the same skills to tracking down a ghostwriter? It couldn’t be that hard, could it? All she wanted was someone who didn’t look down their nose at her or stick their tongue out like a reptile.

And it was fun, researching and narrowing them down to a manageable number. The internet was awash with contenders. Longlists became shorter lists, then shortlists with photos to accompany each person. Next, she dug deeper, stalking their social media accounts. One possibility turned out to be a huge fan of a particularly terrible politician – eurgh. Another liked to post inspirational quotes on her Instagram – no, thanks . A third had got into a massive strop on Twitter with someone who’d dared to criticise an episode of her favourite TV show. Oh dear .

But there was another writer on the shortlist who was beginning to stand out. Cami Jepson, who lived in London, had fluffy pale brown hair and a happy, smiley, heart-shaped face with dimples. Her social media pages were full of funny comments and wry observations, and some of the photos she posted of herself were flattering whilst others weren’t. Which made Lizzie warm to her immediately, accustomed as she was to working with fellow actors and actresses who would never dream of appearing less than perfect.

There were video clips, too, of Cami chatting, laughing, dancing and – on one occasion – falling over in a park whilst attempting to catch a small runaway terrier. She had a nice voice and a friendly manner. Best of all, she didn’t do anything lizardy at all.

Further investigation revealed a mutual love of Nora Ephron’s films, quirky artwork, Mexican food – although really, who didn’t like Mexican food? – and peony-scented perfumes.

It felt like a match made in heaven. Better still, Lizzie could see that Cami was online on her Instagram page right now.

Pressing the follow button, she sent a quick private message.

Hi, wondering if you’d be interested in working with me? I’ve signed a publishing deal to get an autobiography out by October. I’m here in the UK for a while but imagine we’d be working chiefly over Zoom. I’m aware that this isn’t how it’s usually done, but do let me know if it’s something you’d be interested in taking on. Obviously all the financial details and everything else would need to be agreed with my editor, Carla Mace, who doesn’t yet know I’ve contacted you. PS. This is really me, I promise. Not a scam. If you’re up for a video call, so am I. X

She added her contact details, then pressed send and wondered if Cami Jepson even bothered to look at messages sent by people she didn’t follow on Instagram.

But hooray, she evidently did. Less than two minutes later, a reply landed in Lizzie’s inbox.

Hello! Oh my goodness, I really do hope you’re not a scammer. Next to You was my favourite film for years, until it got overtaken by Meet Me at Midnight . I would love for us to work together – shall I book a Zoom call to start in ten minutes? Just need a bit of time to tidy myself up and change into a top that doesn’t have Marmite on it! X

Unlike most of her friends in LA, Lizzie was a big fan of Marmite. She also loved anyone who appreciated Meet Me at Midnight , which hadn’t been her biggest film but was her own personal favourite. Better and better.

Ten minutes later she clicked on the link Cami had sent, and there she was.

‘Thank goodness it’s you.’ Cami clapped her hands. ‘I was so terrified you were going to be a hairy naked man!’

Lizzie felt herself relax; she knew they were going to get on. ‘Let’s not waste time. You’ve got the job if you want it.’

‘Are you kidding me?’ Cami’s face was a picture. ‘Is this really happening?’

‘I like you. My editor, Carla, set me up with another ghostwriter, but it didn’t feel right. So I said no, and that didn’t go down well at all.’

‘Ooh, awkward. But it’s better to be honest. Who was . . . No, sorry, I mustn’t ask.’

‘Piers Sanders.’

‘Ah. He’s my husband.’

‘Oh no!’ Appalled, Lizzie covered her mouth. ‘I’m so sorry.’

But Cami was already laughing. ‘Not really. Piers is great at his job, but I think sometimes he can be a bit . . .’

Like he has a giant stick up his bum, thought Lizzie, but diplomatically didn’t say so. ‘Never mind, I’ve found you instead. Oh, who’s this?’ The terrier she’d seen online earlier had now leapt up onto Cami’s lap and was barking ecstatically.

‘This is Boo. Whoops!’ A glass of water almost went flying and Cami whisked it out of the way. ‘She gets excited when I’m excited . . . No, Boo, stop that. Sorry . . .’

‘No worries.’

‘Si, can you come and grab Boo?’

The dog’s tail was rotating at top speed, sending a notebook up into the air. As Lizzie watched, Boo made a grab for the packet of crisps to the left before a man appeared on the screen and scooped her up into his arms.

‘Sorry, she’s a complete delinquent,’ Cami said happily.

The man added, ‘But we love her,’ and Lizzie experienced a pang of envy. What a gorgeous pair they were.

Cami laughed, dimples flashing. ‘Lizzie, this is Simon, my boyfriend and dog-rescuer extraordinaire.’

Simon raised his free hand and waved at the screen. ‘Hi, and sorry about this. I’ll take Boo away now, leave you two in peace.’

‘Lizzie wants me to work with her on her book,’ Cami told him. ‘I’m over the moon.’

‘Excellent.’ Simon bent and dropped an affectionate kiss on top of her head. ‘Well done, you.’

Lizzie’s heart did a little squeeze, because they were clearly so perfect together, a genuinely happy couple. It was lovely to see, and reassuring to know such relationships were still possible. Witnessing their connection gave her hope that one day she might fall properly in love with someone who didn’t end up cheating on her, spending all her money and generally doing their level best to make her life miserable, as men had been successfully managing to do for the last twenty-odd years.

‘Right.’ Cami got down to business. ‘We’re going to need to clear this with your editor, of course, but I have worked with Carla before and if you think she’ll be fine with the arrangement, we should get on with making a plan.’

‘Absolutely. You live in London, yes?’

Cami nodded. ‘We do, in Ealing.’

‘And I’m in Starbourne, in the Cotswolds, between Stroud and Cirencester. Do you think you’d be able to come down for a visit at some stage this week?’

‘Um . . .’

Lizzie saw her hesitate and blurted out, ‘Sorry, am I being high-maintenance? It’s just that it’d be so nice to meet up in person.’

Cami looked to the left and Lizzie heard Simon murmur, ‘Say yes. It’s fine, I’ll take you. We can drive down tomorrow.’

‘OK.’ Cami nodded. ‘Yes, we’ll do that.’

‘I’ll send you the address,’ Lizzie said happily. ‘This is excellent news. I can’t wait.’

Cami Jepson was even prettier in real life. There was also something else about her that Lizzie hadn’t been expecting.

‘I know. I should probably have mentioned it yesterday.’ Her tone was apologetic. ‘To begin with, I was so excited to be talking to you . . . then I started to panic that you’d change your mind about hiring me if you knew, and I couldn’t bear that to happen, so I thought I could just keep it hidden under the desk. Until you said you wanted to meet me in person. Sorry.’

She looked like a scared teenager called into the head’s office for a telling-off.

‘Hey, it’s OK. Congratulations,’ said Lizzie. ‘You’re not going to be sacked!’

‘Thank goodness. I was so worried! Like I said, I’m a fast worker, I promise.’

Simon, at her side, said cheerfully, ‘That’s how she got into this state in the first place.’

‘How pregnant are you?’ Lizzie marvelled at the impressive size of the bump.

‘Only six months. Not as far along as I look.’ Cami patted her stomach. ‘If we really go for it, we can get the work done before the baby arrives. And if she’s early . . . well, we’ll still get it finished. I won’t let you down.’

‘She?’

‘It’s a girl,’ Cami said proudly. ‘We haven’t decided on a name yet. She wasn’t exactly planned, but now that she’s on her way, we’re over the moon. We can’t wait to meet her, can we?’

‘She’s lucky to have you.’ Lizzie’s heart melted at the way Cami looked up at Simon and he responded with a reassuring smile. ‘And I’ve spoken to Carla at the publishers; she’s thrilled I’ve found someone I want to work with. She says you’re a terrific writer and she’ll be in touch about the contract, so that’s all taken care of. Anyway, have a seat, let me get you a drink. You managed to find this place without any trouble?’

‘It was fine. We only went wrong once we’d driven in through the main entrance,’ Simon replied. ‘Turned left instead of right and ended up behind one of the other houses, but someone showed us where to come.’ He paused. ‘You must get fed up with people saying this, but you really are an incredible actress. My mother couldn’t believe it when I told her we’d be meeting you today. Next to You is her favourite film.’

‘Thank you. That’s so nice to hear.’ Lizzie opened the fridge, took out a bottle of freshly squeezed orange juice – not squeezed by her, obviously – and showed it to Cami. ‘How about this? Or there’s a fancy coffee machine if we can figure out how it works.’ She’d resorted to instant last night, after trying and failing to get the scary machine to do its thing.

‘Juice would be perfect.’

‘Thank goodness for that.’

‘I know this must be a real pain,’ said Simon, ‘but if I could have a photo taken with you, it would make my mother’s year. Feel free to say no,’ he added, looking embarrassed.

‘No worries, of course we can do that.’ See? It was so different when people were polite and asked nicely. And when they were so nice themselves.

His eyes lighting up, Simon took out his phone. ‘Thank you. She’ll be so thrilled, you have no idea.’

‘Let’s have all three of us in the photo. All four of us,’ Lizzie amended, drawing Cami and her bump into the picture. ‘There, perfect!’

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