Epilogue
One Year Later
“And cut!” the director, Mel, called out. Chloe jumped up from behind the monitor and headed over.
“You happy?” Chloe asked. “Or you want to go again?”
“I think we got it, thanks, Chloe. Your sets run like clockwork,” Mel said, peeling off her headset. “And your scenes shoot like a dream.”
“This wasn’t one of mine,” Chloe said with a grin. “But thank you.”
They were filming a short film she’d cowritten with Viv, a writer she’d met on her course at UCL.
It was a comedy drama about a woman who married a robot.
This was a passion project, rather than anything commercial.
The new production company she worked for let her use their kit and crew as part of an “emerging talent” program.
But she had to do this around her day job as an assistant location manager, where she helped wrangle logistics on shoots—location permissions, call sheets, and last-minute panics about weather.
Chloe loved the variety of every day, loved being busy, engaging the creative side of her brain again.
She was only a small part of the films they made, but she knew she was good at her job, and she was learning something new every day.
Once filming wrapped, Chloe stuck around, making sure every department was prepped for Monday’s shoot, double-checking the equipment returns and that everyone had the latest call sheet.
“Don’t stay here all night, Chloe,” Mel called out, pulling on her motorbike helmet and zipping up her jacket. A moment later she roared off the lot, engine growling, taillights glinting in the afternoon sun.
When Chloe was finally satisfied that everything was in place for Monday’s shoot, she grabbed her bag and headed for the studio gate.
There, sitting patiently and looking regal in the glow of afternoon light, was a familiar velvety gray figure.
Richard. She smiled to herself, because wherever Richard was, John was never far behind.
She scanned the parking lot, eyes quick with anticipation as she looked for him.
Sure enough, there he was, in scruffy jeans and a creased pink shirt.
His eyes glinted as they fixed on her, then they both broke into a grin.
His face was so familiar to her now, and seeing it conjured so much affection.
She knew every expression: his composing face, his anxious face, his anxious composing face.
His loving face, his passionate face, his “I missed you even though you were in the next room” face. She noticed and loved them all.
“Hey,” she said, biting her lip as she ran straight into his outstretched arms. “What are you doing all the way up here?”
“A little bird told me you might be finishing on time for once,” he said, kissing her. “So we’re taking you away for the weekend.”
“For the weekend? Now?” she asked, and he nodded, clearly delighted with this surprise. “But I don’t have any of my things.”
“I packed for you,” he said, holding out an arm with a flourish. “It’s all in the car.”
“Where are we going?” she asked, but then she frowned and shook her head. “Wait, we can’t go away this weekend, Sean and Gracie are coming over.”
“They rescheduled,” John said. “Sean’s been asked to host an awards ceremony.”
She held his arm. “I’m sure there’s other stuff I’m supposed to be doing. Don’t we have the roof survey? Isn’t your mum coming for lunch?”
John gave her an affectionate frown. “Ask your assistant.”
Chloe narrowed her eyes in suspicion as she pressed the smartwatch on her wrist. “Assist, John wants to take me away for the weekend. What does my diary look like?”
A soothing female voice replied, “Your calendar is clear. Have a great weekend, Chloe!”
She looked at John, brows lifted. “You hacked my calendar.”
“I politely collaborated with your diary to resolve a few minor clashes,” he said, grinning.
“Looks like I’m free then,” she said, clasping his hand. He swung it back and forth as they walked toward the car.
“Will you tell me where we’re going now?” she asked, hugging his arm and kissing his shoulder.
“You’ll see,” he said with a secretive grin.
He kept the mystery going all the way up the A1. When they passed Leeds, she had an inkling, but she wasn’t sure until she saw the sign for Castle Howard.
“No!” she cried, half squealing. “Brideshead?”
“Damn those brown signs,” John muttered with mock irritation as he reached out to stroke Richard’s head.
The dog, nestled in the footwell by Chloe’s feet, stretched out his paws, impatient for the drive to be over.
“There’s a festival this weekend, a celebration of all things Brideshead.
There’s even a teddy bear’s picnic on the grounds tomorrow. It all sounds gloriously camp.”
Chloe clapped her hands, delighted. “Oh, I should have brought Aloysius!”
One eye on the road, John reached blindly into the back seat, rummaged through a tote bag, then pulled out the bear. “You think I wouldn’t pack him?”
Chloe hugged him to her chest, then leaned across the car to kiss John on the cheek.
“I love you.”
“I love you more,” he said, catching her hand and bringing it to his lips.
John had booked a room in a charming thatched B and B in Coneysthorpe, a village so picturesque it felt like a film set.
The cottage was tucked down a winding lane, surrounded by rolling green hills.
A garden full of lavender out front echoed with the steady chirp of crickets and the faint hum of moths.
Inside, their bedroom was tucked in the eaves, and they both banged their heads on the low wooden beams. While she was unpacking, Chloe found a sapphire-blue cocktail dress in her bag.
“What’s this?” she asked.
“I hired us outfits, there’s a costume party tonight,” he said, holding up an immaculately pressed ivory dinner jacket.
“Well, don’t you think of everything,” she said. Her dress had a dropped waist and delicate beadwork that shimmered at the hem. She stepped into it carefully and caught her reflection in the vanity. She looked like she’d stepped out of the pages of The Great Gatsby.
“I love it. All it needs is a—” But she didn’t need to finish the sentence. John was already behind her in the mirror, handing her a long string of pearls.
“Give me some credit, won’t you?” he said, eyes fixed on her reflection in the mirror. She reached a hand to press over his.
“Thank you,” she said, then, watching his expression closely, she asked, “What is this for, this weekend? I love it, don’t get me wrong, but it’s not my birthday or anything. You don’t need to treat me all the time.”
He shrugged, buttoning his linen waistcoat. “I saw it advertised and I knew we had to go. Maybe you’ll be inspired to write something, Brideshead Revisited Revisited or Brideshead Yet Again?” He grinned, leaning down to kiss her neck, his lips brushing the skin just below her ear.
“Marry me,” she said suddenly.
He froze. “What?”
“Marry me,” she said again, her tone more certain now.
“I know it isn’t traditional for me to ask, but I’ve been thinking about it for a while.
I love you, I want to do this with you forever, or for as long as we’ve got.
” She blinked up at him adoringly. “Since I can remember, I had this feeling that I was born in the wrong era, out of step with time somehow, but when I found you again, I realized it wasn’t that—it was being without you.
You were what was missing. And now I can’t imagine my life without you.
I love the way you think, how you explore the world, that you notice everything, and that you would plan all this for me.
” He was looking at her now with an expression she couldn’t read.
“I was lost, John, and then there was you. And now I am found.”
John pressed a palm to his face, exhaling sharply, then shook his head with a sort of bewildered smile.
“What?” she asked.
He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he reached into his trouser pocket and pulled out a small navy velvet ring box. Chloe gasped, then covered her mouth with both hands, smudging the red lipstick she’d just applied.
“Great minds…,” he said, nestling his chin onto her shoulder. She turned around.
“Oh no, I ruined it, didn’t I?” she said, her eyes searching his face to try to gauge how disappointed he was.
“You didn’t ruin it,” he said gently. “But yes, I did sort of have a whole plan.”
“Let me see,” she said, jumping up and down. But he put the ring box back in his pocket and shot her a teasing look.
“Nope. You proposed. You have to get me a ring now.” He raised both eyebrows. “I’ll save this for someone else.”
“John,” she said, “give me my ring,” and now she laughed as he backed away, shaking his head.
“You’ll have to fight me for it,” he said, retreating toward the bed.
“Gladly,” she said, striding toward him, pushing him back onto the bed. He landed with a dramatic “oof,” and she hitched up her dress so she could straddle him, then reached for his pocket.
“Miss Fairway, this is most unladylike behavior,” he said in an austere voice, but he laughed as she wrestled with his pocket.
Their eyes connected; her hands stopped, and their laughter muted, as the energy between them switched from playfighting to something hot and electric.
He let out a low moan as she gently rocked her hips against him.
He wrapped his arms around her back, pulling her close, his lips finding hers, kissing her, deep and slow.
The familiar fire between them ignited, and her stomach flipped as she melted into the feeling.
“Richard, don’t look,” she murmured to the dog, who was curled up on a faded armchair in the corner. Then she reached for the hem of her dress, pulled it up over her head, and tossed it in the dog’s direction.
John reached for her, his hands cupping her with reverent urgency, just as she slipped her fingers into his pocket. But he preempted her, expertly flipping her over, playfully pinning her hands down on the bed.
“You little thief,” he whispered into her ear, clocking she already had the ring box in her hand. The room filled with laughter again, and they rode that beautifully blurred line between lust and joy, Chloe’s favorite place to be.
“We’re going to be late for the ball,” he scolded, running his hand up her thigh.
“We can be quick,” she said, her voice catching.
“If you want the ring,” he said, voice almost a growl, “then let me ask you the damn question.”
She handed him the box and he opened it slowly. Inside was a delicate vintage gold band with five small diamonds arched across the top like stars.
“Chloe Fairway,” he said, his voice steady now, sincere, “straddling you naked, in a B and B, wasn’t the classy proposal I imagined.
But here goes.” He cleared his throat. “I love you, body and soul. I feel the same about having been out of step with time before. Maybe we loved each other in another lifetime, and we’ve been trying to find each other since. ”
“Since the Minoan golden age,” she suggested, eyes glistening with emotion.
“Yes. That was it. I remember now.” He smiled, eyes intent on hers. “So, as I might have asked back then, will you walk with me into the seasons?”
“You’re not going to ask me in Ancient Minoan?”
“I would, but we don’t know what language they spoke. There’s a script called Linear A, which no one has managed to translate, but—”
“John.”
“Sorry. I got lost in the footnotes again, didn’t I?” He took a beat. “Chloe Fairway, will you marry me?” Then he grinned in delight, eyes fixed on hers. “I always wanted to ask you that question.”
“Then yes,” she said, her whole face lighting up with a smile. “Yes, please.”
Richard let out a low woof. He never barked, so they took that as a sign of his approval, or perhaps a sign of his indignation that no one had asked for his input or permission.
They didn’t make it to the costume party until late, too lost in the reality of each other to rush to the world of make-believe.
THE END