Page 92 of A Change of Location
“When you see them, let them know their fears about my future were unfounded.”
The pub’s car park was full. All the outdoor tables were occupied, and they heard the din before they stepped inside.
“Popular spot,” Caroline commented.
“Not with me. I’m rarely here.” If The Peacock was this busy, Poppy and Andy and the kitchen staff must be run off their feet.
Glancing around the room, he spotted Hannah and the Scotsman in a booth. They sat with a group of people, chatting and laughing over drinks and food.
To Caroline he said, “We’ll have to wait for a table.”
“This suits me.” She hopped onto a stool and beamed at the barman. “A glass of house white, please.”
Martin eyed the taps. “Milver Vale Bitter. And the menu.” He positioned himself so he could observe Hannah and her companions. Three chaps and the woman got up to go, leaving her with the location manager.
He couldn’t tell if she’d noticed him yet, she appeared to be completely focused on McLaren. Watching her, he recalled an article in a woman’s magazine he’d read when he and his mother had traveled by train from London to Newbridge. It was titled “What Signals Are You Sending Him?” and provided a guide to decoding female body language. Hannah exhibited a disheartening number of the items on the list. Toying with her hair. Angling her head sideways. Maintaining eye contact. Was she actually giggling? He suddenly understood all too well what people meant by the phrase too much information.
Chapter 27
After a protracted and frustrating day on the set, Hannah drove Liz to her Carleton Close house. They found Telma pacing the back garden, soothing a fractious Lexi. After the weary mother changed into an un-Liz-like combination of pajama top over faded maternity jeans, she joined Hannah in the sitting room.
Lowering the lights, she bared her breast for the feeding process. “The most effective form of therapy I know. When she was a newborn, and my emotions threw me into a tailspin and my hormones kicked up, I doubted I’d ever get this motherhood thing right. Living up to my own expectations seemed like an impossibility.”
“Now you’re a pro.” Hannah sat cross-legged on the plush area rug.
“I feel guilty that I didn’t love her enough at the beginning. This sounds bizarre, but traveling halfway across the world to supervise my most demanding project, proves what’s truly meaningful. Somehow, surrounded by all the madness and mayhem, Tom and I have developed an intense parental bond with this tiny person. And we feel even closer to each other because of her.”
“That’s lovely.”
She was happy for Liz, but her observations yesterday by the river and last night in The Huntsman’s Horn heightened her loneliness and sense of disconnection. Martin’s on-set lunch with the beautiful and vivacious leading actress, immediately followed by their dinner date, loomed large in her thoughts.
Caroline is his cousin, she reminded herself for the hundredth time. After years of not seeing each other, they want to catch up.
“There’s wine in the fridge—for Tom. Help yourself.”
“No thanks.”
“I suppose you’re going to that pub later. Who else do you see there?”
“On an average night, most departments are represented. Script supervisor, continuity, assistant camera, sparks, grips, gaffers, wardrobe.”
“Anybody from the cast?”
“Supporting players. Last night, Caroline. With Martin.”
“Today they had lunch together on the terrace at Stanwell. He’d better not take her out tonight. She should stay in her hotel room and prepare for tomorrow’s seduction scene.”
“Not with Martin’s help, I hope.” Hannah’s comment didn’t come out as jokey as she intended.
Dropping her voice to a murmur, Liz said, “Looks to me like he’s following the plan, keeping your relationship under wraps.”
“That did occur to me,” she acknowledged. No one in cast or crew had any idea they were casually—or intimately—acquainted.
Liz tweaked the blanket and peeked at her sleeping daughter’s face. “He’ll get in touch soon.”
Hannah felt in her pocket for her phone and pulled it out to check that it was charged and powered on.
“The weather’s been perfect for shooting outdoors. Which means by Friday evening we’ll be close to seventy-two hours of work this week. Carrying on past that would violate union regulations. Owen and Nigel and I plan to shut down for the entire bank holiday weekend. Cast and crew will have time off to spend with their families. You and Martin can hook up, with none the wiser.”
