Chapter 7
The next few days were a blur for Emma. After getting over the initial shock of working for the actor-come-director Felix Paschal, she just about managed to drop back down to earth. As promised she had to be discreet, so had only told her dad and Bunty, under sworn secrecy, who her new employer was. It was generally accepted that word would eventually get out, Felix more than anyone knew that. However, Emma had agreed that she would remain tight-lipped.
When Jennifer and Felix had informed her fully of the house being the location for a new TV drama series, Emma just couldn’t contain her excitement.
‘O-M-G!’ she’d cried, eyes wide as saucers.
At this Felix and Jennifer exchanged an amused glance. It was hard not to be endeared by her reaction. And, as Jennifer pointed out, what young woman wouldn’t be overwhelmed by such news. It was exciting, of course it was, especially given that Emma had had no idea in the first place.
Considering that Emma had turned up to be interviewed with no knowledge of who her employer actually was, she had handled the whole situation remarkably well. Yes, she’d been in awe of the place and astounded at seeing Felix, but once accustomed to the idea, Emma had taken it all in her stride. She’d been far too busy to be star-struck. Not only did she have to get to grips with moving in, but she had to familiarise herself with the place.
Emma had been in her element, discovering every nook and cranny of the beautiful, grand house, plus the grounds.
‘I can see why you chose this as the location,’ she’d said to Felix as he walked her through the gardens. They came to a stop, facing the bay.
‘I know. It’s an amazing spot, ideal for the drama,’ replied Felix, turning back to face the house. ‘I couldn’t believe my luck when I first saw it on the market.’
‘What’s the drama about?’ asked Emma.
‘It’s called Lady Scarlett Investigates and set in the 1920s. The house is a perfect backdrop.’
‘So, Lady Scarlett’s a super-sleuth, is she? Like a younger, glamorous Miss Marple?’
‘Exactly,’ nodded Felix with a smile, liking her interest.
‘Who’s playing the role?’ she enquired, then swiftly added, ‘If you don’t mind me asking.’ The last thing she wanted was to appear nosey or too intrusive. She was just the housekeeper after all.
There was a delay before he answered.
Felix found it very easy talking to her, but he had to be careful. He didn’t know Emma yet and there had to be trust before divulging too much. Although all the cast had now been confirmed and contracts drawn up, nothing had been leaked to the press yet. Looking at Emma’s innocent face told him her question had been out of genuine interest, but still, he couldn’t afford to take any chances.
‘The roles haven’t quite been decided yet,’ he lied.
‘Ah, right,’ replied Emma, unconvinced of his answer, sensing she’d over-stepped the mark by asking. Note to self, she inwardly reprimanded – just get on with the job.
Emma had been more than happy with her living quarters, having moved in a few days earlier. She had the Blue room, which was at the far end of the landing and had its own en-suite. It was big enough to have a small seating area and TV by the window as well as a large double bed. Once more she’d been wowed by the Art Deco flair and style of furnishings with mirrored furniture, a big plush headboard crowning the bed and velvet, scalloped chairs in the seating area. The bathroom had a black and white patterned tiled floor, white bathroom suite and a large vintage mirror which hung over the sink. It was all a far cry from what Emma had been used to in the cosy cottage she’d shared with her dad. There, she had occupied the tiny box room. It took some getting accustomed to the sheer volume of space. It also took some getting used to living with someone other than her dad. Knowing he wasn’t far away helped, but being so occupied meant she’d had very little time to feel any home sickness.
What had proved to be the most challenging was that bloody boiler! It truly had a mind of its own. One minute it worked splendidly, the next it rumbled and groaned like a banshee. She made a note to get it looked at. The other thing she struggled with was the aga. Luckily Bunty was on hand at the end of the phone to guide her. Having explained its workings, Emma was still getting to grips with it. Fortunately, there was a microwave in the kitchen as back-up.
All in all, Emma was adapting to her surroundings and new position of housekeeper very well. Thankfully she only had Felix to look after and he hadn’t planned any entertaining yet, or for the foreseeable future. She did wonder how it would all be when the place was full of actors and the production team. Would she be expected to wait on all of them too? Still, the anticipation of being around on set when filming was taking place filled her with a sheer thrill. It was hard not to be euphoric. Who knew who might be here!
Jennifer had returned to London with a clear conscience knowing Felix
was in safe hands. Finally, she could heave a sigh of relief. No more
trips up to Lancashire and playing hostess with the mostess. No, she was
back safely in London and fully intended it to stay that way.
She couldn’t help but smile to herself at Emma. The girl had a real warmth to her. For someone in her mid-twenties she was pretty level-headed too, all things considered. Perhaps it was because the poor thing had had to grow up fast, with her mum dying when she was so young. Professionally, she thought Felix had absolutely made the right choice, though a small part of her also suspected that maybe something else, more personal, had helped him decide on Emma. The girl was attractive in both looks, with her quirky, flamboyant style, and in personality. She appeared open and honest. Jennifer presumed what you saw was what you got. ‘Does what it says on the tin,’ her pragmatic husband would say. What she most liked about Emma was how she behaved around Felix. Apart from the obvious first shock of seeing him, she had soon treated him like the ordinary person he basically was deep down. And that was just what he needed, someone to handle him in a down-to-earth way.
All this sat well with Jennifer. If she was a betting woman, she’d have a wager on the relationship as employer and housekeeper overlapping , perhaps? She laughed softly. So what? As long as that awful Anika was well out of the picture.
Jasmine was deep in concentration, working on the graphics of a
holiday brochure, when Bunty tapped on the garden studio patio door.
‘Busy?’ she mouthed through the glass.
Jasmine smiled and motioned her to come in. She got up from her desk and went to put the kettle on.
‘Hi, Bunty, fancy a cuppa?’
‘Oh yes, thanks,’ she replied.
Ever since Emma had told her and Perry about who her employer was, Bunty had been dying to tell Jasmine. Although she’d been told on strict instructions not to tell a soul, she knew that Jasmine wouldn’t pass the information on. It was just too juicy to keep to herself. Both she and Perry had been astounded to learn that not only was Felix Paschal the new owner of her childhood home, but it was to be the location of a new TV drama series. It was all so much to take in. She simply had to tell her friend.
‘So, how’s Emma getting on with her new job?’ said Jasmine, passing Bunty a cup of tea.
‘Well, now there’s a story.’ She gave a secretive grin.
Jasmine frowned and waited for her to elaborate. It didn’t take long; it was blatantly clear that Bunty was itching to tell her something. However, nothing could have prepared Jasmine for what she revealed. She stopped mid-drink and blinked.
‘ Felix Paschal has bought your old house?’
‘Yes, he has,’ confirmed Bunty with a chuckle. ‘It’s incredible, isn’t it? Apparently his real name is Adam Felix Sinclair.’
‘And he’s filming a TV series there?’
‘Yes, he is.’ Bunty nodded with glee. ‘How exciting’s that?’ she squealed, clapping her hands. Who would have thought her old home, the set of a drama series!
‘I can’t believe it,’ said Jasmine, shaking her head.
‘Oh, but you mustn’t tell anyone,’ Bunty urged. ‘We promised Emma we’d keep it quiet.’
‘Yes, of course,’ replied Jasmine.
Later that evening, after dinner, Jasmine and Robin were relaxing
with a bottle of wine, snuggled up together on the sofa. Jasmine was
feeling suitably laid-back and couldn’t help but mention her news. Robin
would be discreet.
‘Guess who’s bought Bunty’s old house?’
Robin turned to face her with a look of surprise.
‘How come you know?’ he asked. It had been a much talked about mystery on Samphire Bay, who the new owner of the big, white house on the peninsula was.
‘You’ll never guess,’ teased Jasmine.
Robin laughed. ‘Just tell me then.’
‘Felix Paschal.’
There was a stunned silence.
‘Felix Paschal?’ replied Robin.
‘Yea,’ said Jasmine.
‘You mean the Felix Paschal, the actor?’
‘Yes,’ chuckled Jasmine, ‘and what’s more, there’s a new drama going to be filmed there. Apparently he bought the house because it’s the perfect location.’
‘Blimey.’ Robin was still absorbing all the newfound information.
‘Oh, but you must keep it to yourself,’ Jasmine quickly told him. ‘It’s top secret.’ She mimed pulling a zip across her mouth.
‘Right, OK,’ replied Robin.
As soon as Robin got back to his apartment he texted Jack, knowing he’d keep quiet.
Felix Paschal has bought Bunty’s old house.
No way?
Straight up. And he’s filming there too.
You sure?
Deffo. Keep schtum.
Will do.
The next morning Jack called in at the grocery shop to get some milk and a newspaper. As he picked up a copy, he quickly scanned the headlines, wondering if there was any news of Felix Paschal buying a local property. He couldn’t see any mention of it on the front pages.
Trish, the shop keeper and well-known gossip, saw him studying the papers.
‘Looking for anything in particular, Jack?’ she asked.
‘Only about our new resident,’ he replied, still squinting along the shelf.
‘Our new resident? Who’s that then?’ asked Trish.
‘Only Felix Paschal,’ muttered Jack, still straining to see if there was any mention of him, then stopped. Should he have just said that?
‘Felix Paschal!’ shrieked Trish.
Oh well, too late now, thought Jack. The word was well and truly out. If Trish knew then all of Samphire Bay would know before the day was over.