Forget Me Knot (35 page)

“I have to say, I agree,” Abby volunteered, flicking the switch on the electric kettle.

“See, even Abby agrees, and she knows nothing.” Before Abby had a chance to respond to the comment, Cinders turned to Abby and corrected herself. “Omigod, I am so sorry. That came out all wrong. What I meant to say is that you know nothing about scriptwriting. I’m sure you know lots and lots about other things … you know, flower arranging and plants and whatnot.”

Abby couldn’t work out if Cinders was being bitchy or whether she was genuinely making a mess of apologizing for her original remark. She decided to give the woman the benefit of the doubt and say nothing.

Dan hadn’t heard Cinders’s comments. He was deep in thought, his pen hovering over the script. “OK,” he piped up suddenly. “Maybe it would be sexier if she simply smiled and said, ‘Pick me up at eight.’”

“Brilliant,” Lucinda exclaimed, drawing him toward her and planting a kiss on his cheek. “Darling, you are so clever.” Now she was ruffling his hair. He seemed mildly irritated by this and gently but firmly removed her hand from his head.

Abby asked if Dan and Cinders fancied a cuppa. Dan said he would love one. Cinders asked if Abby had any Earl Grey or jasmine tea.

“Sorry, only your basic builder’s brew, I’m afraid.”

Cinders said in that case she would pass. Then she got up and disappeared to the loo.

Abby poured boiling water into her coffee cup. “We still on for lunch?” she said to Dan.

“I’d love to, but I can’t. There are quite a few more problems with the script. Cinders and I have to sort them out. We’ll probably have lunch together.”

“What about dinner? I could cook us something.”

“Fantastic. I’ll pick up some wine.”

By now Cinders had returned. “Oh, darling, you said we were spending this evening at your place going over rushes.” Her spoiled-child pout wasn’t lost on Abby.

Dan looked at Abby. “Actually, Cinders is right. I did say we’d go over rushes.”

“But you’re more than welcome to join us,” Cinders cooed.

“That’s kind of you, but I’m sure you’ve got loads to discuss.” Abby turned to Dan. “Tomorrow night, then?”

“It’s a date.”

“Ooh, don’t you remember, darling?” Cinders butted in again, barely disguising her glee. “We’ve got dinner with that chap from the National Lottery.”

Dan ran his fingers through his hair in frustration. “Bugger… Abby, I’m truly sorry, but nearly half our funding came from lottery money. If I want more for future projects, I really need to stick close to this guy.”

Abby told him not to worry. She knew how vital meetings like this were. The bit she found disconcerting was the delight with which Lucinda announced Dan’s lack of availability.

It wasn’t until Saturday that Abby and Dan got an evening together. Abby decided to cook Jamie Oliver’s roast venison with potato, celeriac and parmesan bake.

While Abby stood at the kitchen worktop, grating parmesan, Dan uncorked a bottle of wine. “It’s so good to
have some time on our own.” He put the wine bottle down, came up behind her and began kissing the back of her neck.

She rolled her head in appreciation. “I know. Even though you’ve been around, I’ve really missed you.”

“Me, too. Do you realize, we haven’t even had time for a snog?”

It hadn’t been for the want of trying, though. They’d tried sneaking a few minutes in the bedroom, the back room downstairs and even the bathroom, but every time, somebody had started calling for Dan. They hadn’t had any sleepovers, because Dan was at home viewing rushes into the small hours.

By now her arm was tired from all the cheese-grating. “I haven’t weighed it, but that must be enough,” she said. With that, she began sprinkling cheese over the layers of sliced potato and celeriac.

“So when are your mum and dad coming home?” he said, pouring wine into glasses.

“Not for a while. Since she appeared on
Oprah
, she’s become quite a celebrity across the pond. Now all the talk shows want her.” According to Hugh, Jean’s performance on
Oprah
had been magnificent. She hadn’t displayed even a hint of nerves. Instead, she had spoken with a power and conviction that had clearly inspired the women in the audience, because at the end of the show they all rose to their feet and chanted,
“We love Jeanie.”

“Women are stopping me in the street and calling me a feminist role model,” Jean had told Abby on the phone. “Can you believe it? Me? A feminist role model. You do have to giggle.”

Baffled as Jean was by her newfound fame, Abby had
been left in no doubt that her mother was loving every minute of it.

They had just taken their wine into the living room and were snuggled up on the sofa when Dan’s mobile rang. He took his phone out of his pocket, looked at the caller display and groaned. “It’s Cinders. Whatever the problem is, I’m not dealing with it tonight. She can leave a message.” With that he switched the phone off and put it back in his pocket.

“I think Cinders has got a thing for you,” Abby said, immediately wishing she hadn’t. Now he was going to think she was jealous and needy. Great.

Dan didn’t seem remotely perturbed by her statement. Instead, his face broke into a smile. “No more than she has a thing for every other man on the set. Haven’t you noticed the way she drapes herself over the crew? It’s just a luvvie thing. Like a lot of stars, she’s hugely insecure and desperate for attention.”

This was precisely what Soph and Martin had said when she confided her fears to them. Abby decided she really had to loosen up and let the matter drop.

“So, she’s not after you, then?” she heard herself say. So much for loosening up.

“What? God, no. What you have to understand is that her behavior has nothing whatever to do with romance and everything to do with control. Cinders needs to have all eyes permanently focused on her. Believe it or not, it’s the only way she feels good about herself. She’s petrified that my relationship with you takes my focus off her. It makes her feel insecure. The reality is, she’s on the verge of becoming an A-list Hollywood star. She’s not remotely interested in a relationship with a struggling director like me.”

“And what if she were?”

He took her wineglass from her and put it down on the coffee table. “OK,” he said, cupping her face in his hands, “first, I am one hundred percent committed to our relationship, and even if I weren’t, there is no way on earth that I could ever take on a woman who was that self-centered and needy. Does that answer your question?”

Before she had a chance to say anything, he was kissing her in a way that left no doubt that her question had been well and truly answered.

FILMING WAS MEANT TO
last a week but ran into a second. Abby didn’t mind. In fact, she almost welcomed it. The early starts meant she was at her laptop by eight, replying to e-mails and sending invoices. She couldn’t remember the last time she had been so on top of her paperwork.

Most nights, Dan stayed for dinner. If neither of them felt like cooking, they would order in and eat on the sofa, watching the TV news or some daft soap. Usually Dan had to rush home as soon as they’d eaten. He was now working with a film editor. Even though
Bouquet
wasn’t quite finished—he had been working on it for three months— they were trying to get a rough cut ready as soon as possible to show film distributors.

By now Abby was making the final plans for Mr. Takahashi’s daughter’s engagement party, which was less than two weeks away. Everything had been bought. The ornamental Asian bridge, the miniature pagoda and fountain had all come from a swanky garden center in Chelsea, which specialized in creating Eastern gardens.

Once the “scenery” had been delivered to Mr. T’s
apartment, Abby went over one afternoon to put everything into position. She marveled at the red painted fretwork on the arched black bridge. She oohed and aahed over the intricate carving on the roof of the miniature gold pagoda, which had turned out to be not quite as
miniature
as she had imagined. It stood a full seven feet high. She started to panic that it was going to dominate the room.

It took Ichiro to reassure her. “Abby, calm down. The ceiling is twelve feet high and the room is sixty feet long. Believe me, we have plenty of space to play with.”

He was right. Once they had found the perfect spot for the pagoda and bridge, they turned their attention to the indoor fountain. They were still struggling to hook it up to the main water supply on the terrace when Mr. T and his daughter arrived. The diminutive, giggling Miss T wore a gray business suit and pearls. She spoke no English, but it was clear from her excited exchange with her father that she was delighted by the Asian idyll Abby had created.

“Now then, Miss Crompton,” Mr. T barked, waving a chubby forefinger, “promise me you not forget my peen-is.”

Ichiro turned scarlet. “His what?” he mouthed at Abby, straining not to laugh. “Is there something I should know about?”

Abby hissed at Ichiro to behave and turned to Mr. T “Don’t worry, Mr. Takahashi, the”—she paused for Ichiro’s benefit—
“peonies
are all on order.”

“Big ones? I want very big peen-is.”

By now Ichiro could barely contain himself.

“You understand? Very big peen-is.”

Abby said that wasn’t going to be a problem.

“You also get me lavender. For terrace.”

“Lavender?” Abby’s face fell. “Ooh, Mr. Takahashi, it’s
far too early in the year for lavender. English lavender doesn’t flower until July. And it’s not very Japanese, is it? I mean, it’s not exactly in keeping with our theme.”

“Maybe not, but it smells good. You find! Money no object!”

Abby practically saluted.

SHE SPENT
the next few days trying to source spring lavender. Occasionally, Dan would sneak up behind her while she was sitting at her laptop and start massaging her shoulders and kissing the back of her neck. “Why don’t we lock the bedroom door and do it now? Surely you can spare a couple of minutes?”

She would burst out laughing. “Is that what we’re reduced to? A couple of minutes?”

“That works for me. Thirty seconds would work for me!”

“God, you so know how to woo a girl.”

Then she would shoo him away, telling him she was waiting for an important call from a lavender supplier in Devon or Norfolk.

She spoke to several suppliers of Spanish lavender. It had a more piney smell than the English variety, but since it flowered much earlier, she knew it was her only option. None of the British growers had any in full bloom. They blamed it on spring coming a couple of weeks late this year. One said that if money really was no object, her best bet was to find a supplier in Spain and have it flown in. After spending hours Googling and phoning Spanish lavender growers who spoke no English, Abby eventually found a British woman who grew lavender commercially on the island
of Majorca. She said it would be no problem to supply Abby with two dozen tubs.

“We’re talking thousands of pounds to have it flown in from the Med,” Abby told Ichiro over the phone. “I know Mr. T said he wasn’t worried about the bill, but you’d better double-check that he’s up for spending this kind of money.”

Ichiro phoned back a few minutes later to confirm that Mr. T was more than happy to pay.

IF MARTIN
wasn’t too busy and Soph felt able to play hooky from the office for half an hour or so, they would meet in the shop to watch the filming. One morning Ichiro—who was just as starstruck as Martin—joined them. He’d managed to steal a couple of hours off work because Mr. T was out of town. They watched a couple of scenes being filmed, and all agreed that the most memorable was the one where Ed kisses Cinders for the first time.

“It’s so real,” Martin had whispered between takes. “I was totally carried away.”

“I know,” said Ichiro. “The two of them are totally awesome. You’d never think Ed was gay. I mean, it really looks like they’ve got the hots for each other. How do they do that? And with all these people watching.”

Abby gave a shrug. “They are both extremely good actors.”

Before Ichiro left, Abby asked him how the job hunting was going.

He said that he wasn’t looking for a job anymore. Instead, he was thinking about doing a course in interior design.

“Oh, Ichiro, that’s so up your street. I can just see you on the phone to Madonna discussing throw cushions.”

Ichiro laughed. “That is so sweet of yeeeeuuww, but the problem is how I’m going to pay for the course and support myself and my grandparents back in Japan. Part of me knows the universe will provide and that I need to reach for the stars, live life without fear and surrender to the strength of the earth, but I have to admit that I’m struggling.”

ABBY WAS
aware that, as well as being a fine actor, Cinders had incredible stamina and dedication. There were times when half a dozen or more takes were required. Ed would occasionally get ratty and snap at Dan or one of the crew, but Lucinda never lost her temper or threw a hissy fit. No matter what she was asked to do or how long it took to set up lighting and camera angles, she remained calm, good humored and utterly professional. Apart from that first morning, she was never late arriving on set, and when filming was over for the day, she never rushed off. Instead, she hung around chatting to the crew, which clearly endeared her to them.