Chapter 26
Bunty peered into Jasmine’s studio window but was surprised not to see her working there. Usually she’d find Jasmine sat at her desk staring into a screen, but it was empty today. Deciding to try the house, Bunty walked up the garden path and tapped on the back door. There was still no answer. About to walk away, the door suddenly opened.
‘Oh hi, I didn’t think you were in,’ said Bunty on seeing a very pale faced Jasmine. She looked closer and scrutinised her. ‘Jasmine, are you all right? You look terrible.’ She was concerned at her friend’s appearance. Dark shadows smudged under Jasmine’s yes.
‘I’ve had better greetings,’ replied Jasmine dryly, ‘but no, actually, I feel like death warmed up this morning. Come in.’ She stood back to let Bunty inside.
‘Here, I’ll put the kettle on. You sit down,’ Bunty directed, pulling a chair out for Jasmine at the kitchen table.
Jasmine was happy to sit down. She’d had practically no sleep that night. She had also vomited that morning, which filled her with dismay, having thought the morning sickness had passed for good. Robin had also been concerned about her, but that was nothing new. Jasmine had batted his worry away, saying she’d soon mend. But she wasn’t mending. If anything, the nausea was building momentum.
Bunty placed two mugs of coffee on the table and sat down opposite her. Jasmine lifted her cup, took a sip, then winced. Moments later she was stood at the kitchen sink retching.
‘Darling!’ Bunty rushed over and put an arm round her back.
‘S…sorry,’ gasped Jasmine and then spilled the entire contents of her stomach into the basin. Finally she stopped and poured the cold tap on full force. Cupping her hands, she splashed water over her perspiring face.
‘Jasmine, come and sit down.’ Bunty carefully guided her back to the table and gently sat her down. After a few seconds she softly tipped Jasmine’s chin up to face her. ‘I can keep a secret you know.’ Her voice was warm and tender. Jasmine let out a small sigh and briefly closed her eyes.
‘You know, don’t you?’
‘That you’re pregnant? Yes, darling, it’s pretty obvious.’ Then added, ‘To an old dear like me it is anyway,’ she grinned, making Jasmine smile.
‘I knew it. I knew you’d guessed. So has my mum, I’m sure.’
‘Probably,’ agreed Bunty, nodding. Then asked, ‘But why the secrecy? Why not tell your parents? I’m positive Robin’s mum and dad will be delighted.’
‘Oh, I know they will and mine too, it’s just early days… and… we thought…’
‘I understand.’ Bunty shook her head perceptively. ‘When will you let them know?’
‘After my scan,’ replied Jasmine.
‘When’s that?’
‘Next week,’ said Jasmine. She’d be glad when the scan was completed, then they could be more open and not have to tiptoe around the truth.
‘Not long then.’ Bunty patted her hand encouragingly. ‘Congratulations, darling, I’m thrilled for you both.’
Jasmine looked into the older lady’s face and was touched. Joy shone from her sparkling eyes, wrinkled at the edges from a lifetime of smiles and laughter.
‘I take it Robin will be moving in, once the baby’s born?’
‘He’s practically moved in already,’ replied Jasmine with a wry smile. ‘But yes, Robin intends to sell his flat and we’ll all be together here.’ She couldn’t help but feel warm and tingly at the thought; her very own family, here, in this house.
‘Well, he won’t be the only one,’ said Bunty. ‘Perry will be moving in with me. So we’ll both have new next-door neighbours,’ she laughed.
Jasmine had anticipated this and couldn’t be happier. It was good to know the couple would be living close by.
‘We won’t be short of babysitters then?’ she joked.
‘Certainly not,’ Bunty replied with a beam.
Then, changing the subject, Jasmine asked how the wedding plans were going.
‘We’ve booked the church,’ Bunty told her. ‘It’ll be a spring wedding, early April, so we will be sending out the invites shortly.’
Jasmine looked a tad surprised to hear this.
‘Oh, right.’ She’d assumed it would be a summer wedding. She quickly calculated how many months pregnant she’d be – six and most definitely showing.
‘I won’t ask you to be a bridesmaid,’ teased Bunty, guessing what was going through her friend’s mind. They both fell into giggles.
‘Can you imagine, me parading up the aisle behind you with a swollen belly?’
‘I’m sure you’d look splendid,’ laughed Bunty, then paused in thought, ‘though I think Emma should be one.’
‘Of course,’ agreed Jasmine, which prompted her to ask after Emma.
‘Oh, she’s happy as Larry,’ replied Bunty and told Jasmine about Emma’s London trip to Felix’s penthouse.
‘Who’d have thought the mysterious buyer was none other than Felix Paschal.’ Jasmine shook her head in wonder. ‘What does Perry think about him?’ She’d learnt from Bunty that the relationship between Felix and Emma was more than just a platonic professional one. The question made Bunty smirk faintly.
‘I think he had reservations to begin with, but that was Perry being his usual protective self. Once he’d met Felix and gave him the ‘you-better-look-after-my-daughter’ speech, he seems fine.’
Jasmine grinned. ‘Most fathers would be thrilled their daughter’s bagged a rich movie star.’
‘Not Perry. He just wants Emma to be happy with Mr Right, regardless of his wealth.’
They sat in silence, ruminating on those wise words. It wasn’t lost on either of them how they resonated with the past. Bunty was of course referring to her father’s interference with her and Perry’s relationship in the early days. It was so sad, to think of the wasted years. All the more reason to celebrate their forthcoming wedding, thought Jasmine and said so to Bunty.
‘Yes, absolutely,’ agreed Bunty resolutely. Looking pensively into Jasmine’s eyes she continued, ‘And you, my darling, this is your special time too. Yours and Robin’s, nobody more so deserving.’
If ever there was a moment which screamed hug, it was now. The two reached up in unison over the table and embraced. Two women, young and old, firm friends.
The filming was taking place in the kitchen, which was highly
inconvenient for Emma.
‘But how can I prepare the refreshments?’ she’d asked Felix when he’d told her they were due to set up there.
‘We’ll just have to make do with cold drinks for today,’ he’d replied airily. For Felix, it was imperative they shot the scenes down in the kitchen as soon as possible, whilst there was good light.
It was late January and a bright day, so he was keen to make the most of it. Even with the daylight shining through the two sash windows, the cameramen had also stood standing lights in the corners of the kitchen.
Frustrated but not thwarted, Emma had improvised refreshments by making up a few flasks of boiling water just before they’d set up and put teabags and instant coffee in bowls for people to make their own hot drink. There were also jugs of milk, juice and water.
However, it was unlikely a tea break was about to happen any time soon; Felix was getting tetchy. Whilst the main cast were all on form, one or two of the cameo roles had struggled. So much so, Felix had been left wondering just how they’d managed to get a part in the first place. At first, seeing the young actor playing the butcher’s boy fall off his bicycle while shooting outside this morning had been comical. Even he had seen the funny side of it, dusting himself off with rosy cheeks.
‘Sorry about that,’ he’d laughed. ‘I’ll soon get the hang of it.’
Except, after five takes, he clearly hadn’t. They’d hired the vintage bicycle from the props department and Felix was concerned about the state it was going to return in. Already he’d bent the handlebars and damaged the back wheel.
‘From the top, again,’ directed Felix, waving his hands for the young actor to set off riding down the garden path once more. Finally, he was filming a convincing butcher’s boy about to make his delivery. After managing to ride pretty competently, halt and dismount, he then took the wicker basket off his bike and knocked on the back door.
‘And cut!’ Felix had shouted with utter relief.
Now, inside the kitchen, a young girl was playing the role of Jilly, the parlour maid. She answered the door with such nervous energy, it flung back hard, banging against the wall.
‘Again please, with a little less gusto,’ said Felix flatly.
The second take went well, with all the cast reciting their lines word perfect. It was only when Felix was about to cry cut, did the cameraman notice the espresso machine in view. When he pointed this out, Felix closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose in despair.
‘Who left that there?’ he thundered, pointing to it.
The last thing he needed was a modern appliance sitting on the worktop of a 1920s kitchen. An awkward silence hung in the air, when a small voice answered. Emma had been nearby when she’d heard Felix and, creeping gingerly down the stairs, she steadied herself for the onslaught.
‘It was me, sorry. I forgot to move it when everything was being set up inside.’
Felix spun round. ‘ Em -ma,’ he groaned.
‘Sorry.’ Her amber eyes were filled with sincerity and his shoulders relaxed at the sight.
‘It’s OK.’ He shook his head, regretting his loss of temper.
Upstairs, in the hall, the rest of the cast exchanged sly smiles, having heard the exchange. It was blatantly obvious Emma brought out the best in Felix. Polly was awaiting her cue to enter the kitchen. Once Emma scurried back up, Felix called ‘action!’ and she made her way down the stairs to make her entrance.
‘Morning, Lady Scarlett,’ curtsied the maid.
‘Morning, Jilly,’ she replied, then turned to the basket on the table. ‘Is that a fresh delivery?’
‘Yes, m’lady, it was the last order cook made,’ said a tearful Jilly.
Lady Scarlett’s eyes narrowed in thought.
‘Hmm, when did cook make the order?’ she questioned.
‘Oh, err… I’m not rightly sure, m’lady.’
‘Think, Jilly, it’s important,’ urged Lady Scarlett, leaning on the kitchen table.
‘Could this be a clue, m’lady?’ asked the awestruck maid.
‘It certainly could be,’ came the reply, as the camera closed in on Polly’s face.
‘And cut!’ exclaimed Felix.
At last they all gave a sigh of relief and made their way up into the hall to get a drink.
‘Naughty you,’ chided Polly gently to Emma, whilst making herself a cup of tea.
‘I know!’ hissed Emma. ‘I can’t believe I forgot to put the coffee machine out of sight.’
‘Glad it wasn’t one of the crew,’ replied Polly, ‘Felix would have gone ballistic.’
Emma gave a roguish look, but didn’t comment. She wasn’t really sure how to play Polly any more. Whilst now knowing who ‘the mole’ was likely to be from Felix, she still felt a little dubious revealing too much about her relationship with him. It was personal, after all. Instead, Emma changed tack and moved the conversation onto her singing the theme song for the drama.
‘That’s amazing!’ trilled Polly, truly pleased and impressed. ‘I know it’s going to sound fabulous with your voice.’
‘I hope so,’ replied Emma modestly.
‘Oh come on! It can’t fail but be a hit,’ Polly said sincerely.
Felix joined them, smiling at overhearing the tail end of the conversation. He was super proud of Emma and wanted the world to know how talented his girlfriend was.
‘Emma was just telling me about her singing the theme song,’ said Polly, facing him in delight.
‘I know,’ he nodded, ‘and she absolutely nailed it.’ The admiration in his voice was evident. He put an arm round Emma and gave her a quick squeeze. Again, this caused one or two side glances among those nearby witnessing the act of intimacy. Polly decided to come straight out with it. She was growing tired of all this namby-pamby, pussyfooting around.
‘So, are you two an item, or what?’
Emma looked a touch taken aback and remained speechless. Felix, however, took full control of the situation effortlessly.
‘Yes. We are,’ he stated with force, a little too loudly for Emma’s liking. She’d been at pains to keep their relationship on the quiet so far, but asked herself, why? Felix certainly wasn’t staying hush-hush about it. The opposite in fact. She looked up into his eyes and grinned happily. Then, on impulse, reached up to kiss his lips. There, that showed them. Nobody could be in any doubt now.