I crossed my arms. ‘And who the heck should it be about, her next door neighbour?’
‘Not a bad idea. He’s a single bloke, isn’t he, that Jack? Maybe we should get him over here and help me inject some masculinity into this story. I could use a hand against you, you know.’
‘Ah-ha! So you admit that you are working against me?’
He rolled his eyes. ‘Nina, it was just a figure of speech. Like symbolism. You can’t be right about everything.’
I knew I should have begged for Nancy Meyers to produce the movie. She’d have made a bloody masterpiece out of my story. But I’d had no other choice. I knew I was lucky that Hollywood’s most wanted heartthrob had even heard of me, let alone that we were writing a script together.
‘Listen, Luke. If you want a movie about a poor, wronged divorced bloke, then go and write your own sob story. This one is being told like it is.’ There.
He stood up to put on his jacket. Oh, God, where was he going? Had I changed his mind once and for all about investing in me, with all my arguing?
‘Luke, where—uhm…?’
‘Enough writing,’ he suddenly said, pulling me up to my feet.
‘What? But we’ve only just started.’
‘If we’re going to do it your way in Cornwall, I need to see more, see the places where we are going to set the scenes. Give the location managers a few tips and all. Even if we would be hiring a local company, of course.’
‘And while we’re at it,’ I braved, ‘I’d like to ask you a favour.’ If he hadn’t shut down on me yet, he probably never would now.
‘I’m listening.’
‘I’d like to approach the council of Penworth Ford for permission to double as Polperro. It would save us a lot of money, and boost my village’s economy.’
He shrugged. ‘If Penworth Ford looks anything like Polperro—’
‘Oh, it does,’ I said in earnest. ‘At least the west side does. The east has the cliffs instead.’
‘Okay, if that’s what you want.’
Which filled my heart with joy. Because of my book, there would be money coming into the village. ‘Thank you, Luke. Come on, then,’ I urged. ‘There’s a whole lot of Cornwall to show you.’
‘Bring it on.’
So I drove him straight to Holywell Bay and dragged him up the sand dunes covered with marram grass to look out over to Gulls Rocks, that looked like they had fallen from a giant’s pockets on his way back from a swim in the sea. I stopped, grinning to myself in satisfaction at the look on his face. If this didn’t win him over, nothing ever would.
‘We have nothing like this in California. It’s so…’
‘Iconic?’ I suggested.
He nodded. ‘We can shoot the love scene here…’
Excellent. The Post Of ice Cream Ladies and Old Nellie’s Tea Room could do the catering, and Alf’s would provide general necessities. The Old Bell Inn and a few other chosen places could put the crew and actors up. It would be perfect, and Annie and Nell would be getting some good business. Maybe even Em could hand out business cards for her wedding dos, who knew? Lots of people wanted their weddings officiated in Cornwall.
‘I have to say, Nina, I never realised Cornwall was such a magnificent place. It’s literally a world of its own.’
‘Yeah,’ I said smugly. ‘There’s no place like home.’
He smiled at my Wizard of Oz quote. ‘You, my dear, were born to work in Hollywood. It’s lucky I found you.’
‘Come on, there’s so much more to see.’
*
A bit later, we arrived in the fishing village of Mousehole and again, he was gobsmacked, and I knew Cornwall was definitely in the bag. All I needed was to feed him some of our Cornish delights, and with a little luck, he’d be completely converted from California Dreamin’ to Cornwall Drooling.
‘Why the hell would you call a place Mouse Hole though?’ he said as he bit into his pasty.
I laughed. ‘Careful, that’s hot. And it’s Mouze-ole, not mouse hole.’
‘Ah… what the –uck…? It’th hot!’
‘I just told you that. You okay?’
He swallowed, gasping for air. ‘I can’t feel the roof of my mouth. And why is the crust so bloody thick? In the States we at least fill our crusts with cheese or ham.’
‘That is so you don’t get arsenic on your food,’ I explained.
He stopped chewing, his eyes swinging to mine in alarm. ‘Arsenic?’
‘This is an old miners’ meal. They didn’t have time to come up to grass, wash their hands and sit down to a full meal. So their wives made them pasties with thick crusts they could hold in their bare, dirty hands and then discard and go back to work.’
‘So the mines were full of pasty crusts?’
‘Only until the rats arrived to carry them away.’
‘Ugh.’
‘Cornish life was never easy, you know. It still isn’t.’ I would know.
‘Toto, I don’t think we’re in California anymore,’ he said with a chuckle.
‘Thank God for that,’ I said without thinking, as I usually do. ‘Sorry. I mean, it’s beautiful, of course, but I couldn’t live there – it’s so crazy.’
He shrugged. ‘It depends on what you want in life. I’m at the top of my game now but don’t expect it to last forever. When it ends, I’ll probably move to England and buy a place like this.’
‘Really? England?’
‘Sure, why not?’ He looked me in the eye. ‘There’s a lot to be loved here. I can see that now.’
Huh? Was he flirting with me? ‘Well, apart from Ben’s operation, I swear I never want to go back there again.’
He grinned. ‘Except for accepting an Oscar for best screenplay!’
I laughed. ‘Yeah, except for that.’
The next day we took the kids for a picnic lunch on Gwennap Head, promising ourselves we’d get to work in the afternoon. I knew the rambling mornings across
