Page 14 of Persuading Penny (Jane Austen Association #4)

A fter only two days in Southampton, with the uncooperative weather making it impossible to shoot little more than two small scenes, we returned to Bath.

While the rain fell heavily in Bath as well, production moved indoors to shoot several scenes at our usual location.

“We’re getting close to shooting the concert scene where Anne runs in Frederick,” Keely said to Abbie. “Does your offer still hold?”

“Seeing how we’re to continue to work on the same project, I think it would suit us both to be civil to one another.”

“It’s not in my nature, Cliff, to be uncivil, no matter what the situation. If I’ve kept my distance, it’s solely out of respect for you. You seem determined to snub me and I’ve no wish to impose.”

He glanced up as Keely returned. “Note well taken,” he said softly as he backed away.

My heart fluttered. That soft tone, the same tone he’d taken with me so many times; the soft hellos, the soft I love you’s, the soft good-byes.

“What do you think about the lighting, Cliff?” Keely said.

“It’s going to take a lot of lighting to make this gloomy space look like the well-lit lobby of an opera house, but it’s doable.”

“Expensively doable?”

He nodded. “We’re going to need twice as much lighting as we now have.

The space is huge, the ceilings are way up there and you’re going to have a lot of movement here.

We’ll have to rent them. I’m certain Bath doesn’t rent this sort of equipment, so we’ll have to have it shipped here from London. ”

“Penny, how much had we budgeted for this scene?”

As we discussed the budget, the savings we’d made elsewhere and the scenes to come, Cliff wandered through the large, cavernous space, looking up, looking this way and that as he plotted out the scene in his head, his lips constantly in motion as he spoke to himself.

“Just jot that down, Penny. I think we’ll be okay with that.”

“Right,” I said, not really having heard the last part of our discussion.

Keely looked at me, that look of concern again, then glanced back at Cliff and raised a brow. “You two still haven’t settled whatever it is that is going on between the two of you.”

I looked at her squarely in the eyes. “There’s nothing going on. Nothing at all. I’m just admiring the way he works.”

She smirked, a devilishly knowing smirk. She saw right through me, and yet said nothing more on the matter.

The following day, we temporarily moved production of Persuasion to Tillsbury.

The costumes were gorgeous as the elite came out to see a concert in their finest gowns. Even Anne, usually so dowdy, now had a pale green gown with small silk flowers around the neck of the bodice.

The style of dress had changed since the days of Pride and Prejudice , allowing for brighter colors, more ornamentation and a little more cleavage.

Despite the great number of people on set, making the possibility of a blunder much greater, everything went well. The haughty characters met, chatted, and Anne had her little moment with Frederick.

“Great,” Keely said once the scenes were over. “We finished that in record time. Now we’ll be able to send those lights back before they charge us for another day.”

On the third day back in Bath, with the sun up and bright, only a few stray clouds to bring interest to the sky, production was once again moved outdoors.

Bridget, as Anne, looking more frumpy than usual in a blood red cape over a dull gray, ill-fitting dress, sat on the grass. Nearby, obscured by a cluster of trees was Louisa Musgrove and Captain Wentworth.

“Remember, Anne,” Keely said. “You are distraught by what you overhear, and yet you have no lines. Your distress must be clear in your eyes, in the play of your mouth, all while not seeming like a caricature of sadness and regret.”

“Got it.”

Keely went to the camera operator, Cliff standing nearby.

“I thought of starting with a wide shot; Anne to the left and Louisa and Wentworth to the right.” She glanced at Cliff for his opinion.

He walked around the camera operator, around behind Keely and farther still to the left, his eyes remaining on Anne.

“I think the scene would be more effective if we had her sitting in the shade instead of that stark sunlight. Where she is now is too drenched with sun for such an emotional moment. Yes, we can shoot a wide scene, to show their proximity to one another, but I’d like to then move in, get a close up of Anne’s face, the camera ever so slightly higher than her. ”

“As you wish,” Keely said.

Cliff went to Bridget and offered his arm to help her stand. Gently, he guided her to a more appropriate spot several yards away, in the shade.

“That’s better,” he told her. “Sit right there. Yes. Perfect.”

He then re-adjusted the placements of the other two actors and returned to Keely.

“Looks great,” she said, then turned to her actors. “Ready. Action!”

They captured the scene in one take.

“Cut! That’s great. Let’s move on.”

The morning saw them shooting two more quick scenes and the call to lunch was then made.

Having grown bolder since the trip to Southampton, I joined the cast and crew, even daring to sit with those I was less familiar with.

Everyone was kind, always eager to leave me a seat, and always polite. Increasingly, however, instead of talking about the movie, the weather, sports or any other possible issue, their main topic of conversation was the romance between Bridget and Cliff, a romance that was now hard to ignore.

“They are together constantly,” one said.

“It’s no wonder,” another said. “If I were him, I’d want to be with her all the time as well.”

“Speak for yourself, Kyle” a young woman countered. “If I were her, I would never want to leave his side.”

“Admit it, Linda, all you’d want is his money,” he told her.

“And all you’d want of her is...”

“Enough,” an older woman cut in. “We all know what one wants of the other. It’s not a competition.”

“Don’t be such a prude, Paula,” Kyle said.

“It’s not prudish to want proper subject matters spoken at the table,” she retorted.

“But if they are having a romance,” Linda said, “why are they so determined to keep it secret?”

“Have you ever heard of a little thing called a tabloid?” Kyle shot back.

“I don’t think that’s the reason,” Paula countered. “I mean, romances like this only heighten interest in a movie. If the tabloids get a hold of this, everyone will be talking about this movie.”

“I bet he’s waiting until we wrap to propose,” Linda said, a dreamy look in her eyes. “Oh, that would be so lovely. I’m sure he’s the type to get on bended knee and offer her...”

“One hell of a rock,” Kyle finished for her.

I could barely swallow my bite of salad as I listened to them go on and on. Would Cliff really propose to that girl? An actress? She was British and he was American. If we weren’t able to make our long-distance relationship work so long ago, why would theirs work?

Maybe because Bridget doesn’t have a meddling father. Maybe because now, Cliff is free to travel as he wishes. Maybe because he would move heaven and earth to be with his new love.

Maybe, maybe, maybe...

I had to face the facts. Of course he would propose. Why not? They worked in the same field. Surely, they have so much in common. Why should they not marry?

After a few more difficult bites of my lunch, I quietly excused myself – so quietly that no one noticed my departure – and headed back home.

The boldness I’d acquired in Southampton, especially after my encounter with that handsome stranger, seemed to fade, and I was once again aching for Cliff. As I drove away from the film’s location, I turned toward Bath instead of home.

I parked my car by the curb and walked up Pultney Street. I had no goal, and nothing in particular I wanted to see. But it was pleasant just walking among the residents and tourists simply enjoying the afternoon. So many happy people... so many happy couples, holding hands, smiling, sharing.

Oh, damn.

As I wandered about, I found myself nearing my favorite bakery, right next to my favorite bookstore. Considering how loudly my stomach growled, I walked into the bakery to pick up a little something savory – a sausage picnic pie – with a bigger something sweet – a Chelsea bun.

And a good strong coffee to wash it all down with.

Reluctant to waste the beautiful afternoon inside, I brought my lunch out to the terrace and found a quiet little table away from the passers-by on the sidewalk.

My savory sausage picnic pie went down easily now that my throat was no longer constricted by so many useless emotions. But as I prepared to take my first bite of my Chelsea bun, a shadow suddenly blocked out my sun.

“Pardon me,” I called up, “but you are blocking my sun.”

When he didn’t move, I looked up in annoyance, ready to give the blocker a few more choice words, but then I saw his smile, as radiant as it’d been a week before.

“It’s you,” I said, sounding so silly.

“Yes,” he said. “It is, indeed, me. I didn’t realize you’d gain exclusivity of the sun.”

“I... I just... I mean...” I stood to face him, no doubt blushing profusely.

“I told you I was soon coming to Bath, and I did specify that I hoped to see you once here. Please don’t think I’m stalking you. It is purely coincidental. Though I have been keeping my eyes open since arriving.”

“When did you arrive?”

“Late last night. I’m staying at the Royal Crescent Hotel.”

I noticed then how we were just standing there on the terrace, me over my Chelsea bun and coffee and he with nothing at all.

“Would you care to join me?” I said. “The bakery has wonderful treats.”

He nodded. “I think I might just do that. I’ve been walking around quite a bit, and it has made me a little hungry.”

He went inside and came out to join me moments later, a ham sandwich and a Bakewell tart on his tray.

“You say you’ve been walking,” I said. “Are you following in the footsteps of Jane Austen or are you simply wandering aimlessly.”

“A little of both. You know, I was thinking... uh...” He stopped suddenly and smiled. “I just realized I don’t even know your name.”

“Oh. You’re right. We never did get around to introductions. I’m Penelope Copperfield, but you can call me Penny.”

“Nice to meet you, Penny. I’m Steve. Steve Seagram.” He looked at me with a touch of expectation, as if I should have had a particular reaction.

“Now, to answer your question about visiting Jane Austen sites or just wandering...” He reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone to scroll through it a moment.

“Ah. Here we are. For a little while, Jane stayed with her aunt and uncle who owned No.1 The Paragon.” He looked up at me.

“I’ve not found it yet. Then she moved to 13 Queen Square, then 4 Sydney Place and then to 27 Green Park which is where her father died.

That building is no longer standing so there was no point in looking for it.

Then the family moved to 25 Gay Street where, unfortunately, her mother died.

And finally Trim Street, but the address is unknown. ”

“Wow. I’m impressed. I knew about Green Park and Gay Street, but the rest...” I nodded in appreciation of his thoroughness on the matter. “And have you found any of these?”

He shook his head as he laughed. “Not all. Only the two you’ve just mentioned. But I was hoping to go to Sydney Place tomorrow. Apparently, it overlooks Sydney Garden and there’s a huge labyrinth you can walk through... if you dare.”

I laughed. “Yes. Yes, I’ve heard of it.”

“You’ve never been?”

“Oh, no,” I said still laughing. “It’s not really my cup of tea.”

“And yet you are quite amused.”

“My apologies,” I finally said. “I believe the labyrinth is long gone. But I’m sure you could find where it once stood.”

“Ah, so I’ve been misinformed. I warned you that could happen.”

“So, I take it you’re enjoying Bath so far?”

“Gorgeous. I have to say it’s one of the prettiest little towns I’ve ever visited, and I’ve visited many places. Here, it seems that everywhere I turn, all I see is beauty.”

“I’ve lived here all my life and I’m still amazed by the architecture. It’s a shame we don’t build anything like this anymore.”

“I’m in full agreement with you there. We need to bring back fine architecture and pride in what we build.”

Finishing my coffee, I looked at him over the rim of my mug. He had a charm about him that came so easily to him, and yet there hung about him an air of mystery.

“How long will you be staying in Bath?”

“Depends,” he said. “Could be weeks. Could be years.”

“Oh?”

He smiled. “I’m seriously considering moving here.”

“Are you?” I said, inexplicably pleased.

“I’ve been looking to leave London, but I’ve not found a place I find suitably interesting. Then again, I know little of the city. Perhaps I’ll discover some atrocious secret that will repulse me.”

“I doubt it.”

He looked at me with a more serious gaze. “I don’t mean to impose, and I have no doubt you have better things to do, but... would you mind showing me around a bit. I could sure use a knowledgeable guide and seeing that you’ve lived here all your life...”

“Me? Oh, I don’t know. I mean, you know more about Jane Austen’s whereabouts more than I do.”

“Actually, I don’t just mean all things Jane Austen. I mean, the real heart of the town; the architecture, the abbey, the baths, Pultney Bridge.”

I hesitated for a moment.

“Oh, my God. Look at me going on like this,” he said suddenly, sitting back as if to berate himself. “Here I am a perfect stranger and I’m asking you to take time from your busy day to accompany me on this tour of the city. Forgive me. I am completely and utterly gauche.”

“No. It’s really alright. I think I could enjoy visiting my town as a tourist..

. you know, seeing it through your eyes.

” I mentally ran through my schedule. I wasn’t needed on set and as long as everything was in order, I should have the freedom of an afternoon or two.

“Okay. I would love to accompany you through Bath. We can perhaps meet here tomorrow... let’s say. .. ten o’clock?”

“Sounds good. I very much look forward to it.”

As did I. Not only would it be a well-needed change of pace from work and home, but it would be the perfect antidote to my growing heartache over Cliff and Bridget’s romance.