No Ordinary Competition
Sunday dawned with a blue and cloudless sky, promising beautiful summer sunshine for the great event. Sidney woke up early and decided to have a morning swim at the cove. That would help him clear his mind and focus on the day ahead.
When he left his attic room, he stopped in front of Charlotte's door for a second. He heard the shower running, so she was up as well and getting ready for the action.
He owed her an apology, of course, and an explanation. He knew he had acted like a coward the evening before when he had snubbed her instead of simply introducing her to Eliza as "Tom's management trainee, Charlotte Heywood". Just as he had snubbed her when he had answered her email about Tom's creditors with exactly one word, or when he had left her standing on the dance floor at the Regency Excelsior Hotel and sleepwalked directly into Eliza's arms.
Eliza.
Naturally, seeing her again after all those years had perplexed him. He had imagined this moment so many times during the past eight years, and yet, her sudden appearance had unsettled him entirely. She was not the same woman now: Something of a reality TV personality (if one was into reality TV, which he was not) with her own handbag business and a new home accessories line coming up. She had acquired an American accent, her hair looked longer, fuller and blonder, her nose seemed a little more pointed, and her breasts… he could have sworn that by some magic, they had grown considerably over the past eight years.
Whether she and he were still had anything in common was another question, and one Sidney was pondering about when he threw himself into the waves that morning.
That night in London, Eliza had left him in little doubt about her intentions: she had apologised for her behaviour from eight years before and once more tried to explain it. She had been young, ambitious and scared by the prospect of a suburban existence as a banker's wife.
And no doubt her present life was much more glamorous than anything Sidney could have offered her. But she was paying a heavy price for her ambition, she said. Her marriage to the American millionaire had foundered because Mr Campion believed three people were one too many in any marriage (the third one being the omnipresent memory of Sidney). She was not on speaking terms with her own family either, all due to her messed up relationships.
But now that she had returned to Britain, she hoped to make amends with everyone, and she wanted to start right here, with Sidney. The encouraging replies she received to her comments on the hotel's Instagram posts had left her hoping she might be welcome to the Parker family again.
Had it been up to her, they would have ended that night in London directly in her hotel room. But that was definitely not what Sidney wanted. Mesmerised as he was by seeing her again, he was far from ready to forgive and forget. What had happened eight years ago had too profoundly shaped who he was today. Ultimately, his friendship with George Lambe and his whole career stemmed from her dumping him so brutally, but also his wariness, his inability to throw himself into someone else's power again.
Someone very specific.
Someone who probably right now was thinking of him as the greatest nincompoop on the whole of the south coast.
He took another deep dive into the surf, feeling the waves wash over him.
He had told Eliza that he was not ready to wipe out the past just then and there. But he had agreed when she suggested coming to Sanditon for the open-day: to meet his family again, to chase some memories of those teenagers sharing their first shy kiss behind the hydrangea bushes on a summer afternoon half a lifetime ago.
And, of course, to promote the hotel to her five-hundred thousand followers.
And now that she was here, he could not simply ask her to go away again before the action had started. Imagine if she shared that news with her followers! So he would keep her entertained and at arm's length at the same time. It was only one day, after all.
He took a final dive. No sea serpent down there and no siren, just the sea, the current and the cold that faded out any troubles and any thoughts and left him concentrating on himself and his body's moves. But only until he had reached the shore. When he rose out of the water and walked towards the rock where he had left his clothes, he could not help but smile a and think of Charlotte once more. How far they had come since that encounter! And how different she was from Eliza.
He hid his face in his towel, but he could not hide away from the realisation that he was failing Charlotte. Again. And that he was just terribly unfair. To both Eliza and Charlotte. Raising Eliza's hopes, leaving Charlotte in limbo. Because if he was perfectly honest with himself, entertaining Eliza as his guest at Sanditon provided him with another pretence to claim that he was indifferent to Charlotte. Which he was not.
But pretending to be indifferent to Charlotte was so much easier than facing the fact that he was attracted to her. Attraction led to emotions, and emotions led to disappointment and pain. As Eliza had taught him all those years ago.
x
The open day started well. With one of the main factors – the weather – playing along absolutely brilliantly, one great sorrow was taken off Charlotte's mind. She could concentrate on walking around, checking the stalls set up on the lawn in front of Regency Row, ticking off points on her clipboard list, talking, smiling, sharing optimism and generally not thinking of mrscampion and Sidney Parker at all. Or at least not every two minutes.
Tom Parker, who guarded the hotel entrance to welcome every guest personally, was a bit concerned about the number of visitors. There were plenty, but most of them people from Sanditon and the surrounding villages, and not the potential buyers for apartments and memberships at the golf club he had hoped for. Yet he put on a brave face, introduced himself to everyone who did not know him, and explained about all the pleasures that were to be found on the hotel's grounds on this Sunday, taking the opportunity to utter all his favourite slogans.
Charlotte decided that her boss was well occupied and walked back to the lawn where under Arthur's supervision, the Cupcake Competition had started off. Equipped with buttercream in all colours of the rainbow and mountains of sugar decorations, Sanditon's children were challenged to create the most beautiful cupcake. Charlotte put her clipboard aside for a moment and joined the Parker children in their efforts.
Jenny was producing a pink unicorn cake, while Alicia was still undecided about her theme and tried out all the colours in the piping bags. Henry had taken the most logical approach, at least for a four-year-old: he had eaten half the cake, smeared his face with blue and red buttercream and was now happily munching on a sugar version of Captain America's shield.
Charlotte leaned in to assist Alicia with her colour scheme and to wipe Henry's face once he had finished munching when an amused voice with just the slightest American accent caught her attention.
It was mrscampion, wearing tight-fitting white trousers and a pristine white blouse, sporting one of her ugly handbags. Sidney was standing next to her, dressed casually in jeans and a black shirt with rolled-up sleeves, but looking altogether a little awkward and less sure of himself as he usually did. "I attended a hotel opening in LA where the kids were given gift bags sponsored by Roboflex Toy Figures," mrscampion said, fluttering her eyelashes. "But for sheer exhilaration, Sidney, what could compare to a cupcake competition?"
"Well," he said, moving towards the Parker children's table. "This is no ordinary cupcake competition. Look at this one, for instance." He pointed out Jenny's neat reproduction of a unicorn head. His niece beamed at him.
"I did that all by myself, Uncle Sidney." He beamed back, now looking relaxed and boyish, as he so often did when he was with the children, then furrowed his brow in mock doubt.
"No assistance by Arthur or Miss Heywood?"
"None at all. But maybe you can help Henry. He's making a mess."
"I'm not!" Henry protested. Sidney walked over to inspect his nephew's work.
"It's… err, interesting, Henry. I believe you deserve a second chance, though. Wouldn't you agree, Miss Heywood?" Charlotte looked up. She had been concentrating on Alicia's choice of a chocolate theme, well aware of the fact that mrscampion, hovering behind Sidney, was eyeing her with much more interest than any children's cupcakes.
"I believe everyone who's made a mistake deserves a second chance, Mr Parker," Charlotte said. Behind him, mrscampion cleared her throat and stepped forward.
"Well done, children, very w…" – but before she could finish her accolade, Alicia's piping bag went off violently and in the wrong direction, and a fist-sized clot of chocolate buttercream landed on mrscampion's pristine white blouse.
x
There was a moment of horrified silence as everyone was staring at the brown clot slowly moving down Eliza's front.
"I'm so sorry!" Charlotte cried as if it was her fault and not Alicia's. Dashing around the table, she had a cloth ready to take care of Eliza's blouse.
Eliza took it with equanimity, or at least she pretended to. Sidney knew her well enough to realise that the smile she had fixed on her face as Charlotte endeavoured to remove the chocolate clot was a bit too forced. "It's nothing," she claimed. "I have another outfit upstairs."
"If you just leave the blouse at Reception, I'll make sure it gets sent to the dry cleaner," Charlotte said, stepping back from her work. The clot was gone. A large brown stain was still there.
"Sidney," Eliza said, obviously fighting to keep control. "Can we go up to the room so that I can have a change of clothes?"
"Of course," Sidney said, noticing that Alicia made no move to apologise. Quite on the contrary, when they had turned their back on the cupcake competition, he was sure he heard both Jenny and Alicia explode with laughter.
"Who did you say that girl was?" Eliza asked as they were walking away, clutching her handbag to her front to cover the stain.
"Alicia. My niece."
"Not your niece. The pushy one."
"Ah. Charlotte. – Heywood," he added. "I think she wanted to help. She's Tom's management trainee for this summer."
"Also in charge of the children?"
"Well, she's in charge of … many things." Such as organising this event, Sidney thought. Or offering him an olive twig when he was making a fool of himself.
Eliza smiled up at him. "She is rather a sweet little thing, isn't she?"
Sidney looked the other way. How much easier his life would be if sweet was the only thing Charlotte Heywood was.
Back in the hotel lobby, he found Babington leaning across the reception desk and keeping Esther from her work.
"Sidney, are you coming?" Eliza was standing in front of the lift.
"I'll just wait here while you're getting changed." With a dissatisfied glance, she vanished behind the sliding doors. Sidney turned to Babington. "Where's Crowe?"
"I've lost him to the cocktail tutorial at the bar," his friend said. "What happened to her?" He nodded at the elevator doors closing behind Eliza.
"A cupcake accident."
"I see. – I'll never throw cupcakes at you," Babington said to Esther. "I swear."
"No one was throwing cupcakes at her," Sidney felt compelled to say. She was his guest, after all. Esther was rolling her eyes.
"You're boring me to death, Babington. I don't want cupcakes, or ugly seagulls, or your declarations of love."
"Then tell me what you want, Esther, and I'll get it for you."
"You're the most un-shining knight I've ever seen."
"Yes," he grinned. "But I'm better than a knight. I'm a lord. Among other things."
Sidney decided to leave these two alone. Tom came down the stairs, finishing one of his guided tours of the hotel and sending his guests off to the Conservatory, to the tombola and to Regency Row. "Sidney!" he cried when he saw his brother. "How is everything? Where is your dear guest of honour?"
"She'll be back in a moment."
"And does she like it? Do you know whether she has posted anything on social media yet? - Likes, likes, likes," Tom grinned. "That's today's currency, I am being informed."
"I … I don't believe she has had time for that yet," Sidney admitted. But Tom's mind was already occupied elsewhere.
"Charlotte, my dear!" For, of course, she was walking into the lobby right now, looking rather busy, her clipboard in her hand. "What is next on our agenda?"
"The Who Wants to be a Millionaire quiz is about to start, so I thought you might like to join Manoel and say a few opening words."
"Excellent. Where's Mary?"
"I believe she's in the children's painting corner." Charlotte looked up, only now seeing Sidney. "I'm so sorry about what happened, Mr Parker."
"It was not your fault." It was his fault, all alone, and he had to tell her. "Actually, Miss Heywood… I was meaning to say…"
"Tom!" There was a bustle at the entrance door as Diana rushed in. "Tom! – Do you know who just stepped off the shuttle bus? No other personage than Lady Worcester herself!"
"What?" Tom was out of the door in a wink.
"Who is that?" Charlotte asked. Sidney needed a moment himself to connect the name. Diana, however, was staring at her aghast.
"Lady Worcester? Intimate friend of half of the Royal Family? Kindergarten companion of the Duke of Cambridge?"
"Oh," Charlotte said. They all rushed outside where Tom was fluttering around an elegant and somehow familiar-looking dark-haired woman.
"A thousand welcomes to Sanditon, my lady, a thousand welcomes… we are greatly honoured… had we expected such distinction… you will find us situated splendidly for a sojourn by the sea – or a refreshing round of golf…" Tom was back to catalogue speech. Not a good sign.
"Oh, shush all that," Lady Worcester said. "I don't care a fig about golf, and if I wanted to enjoy a sojourn by the sea, I'd go to the Mediterranean." With a beaming smile and outstretched hands, she walked straight towards Charlotte. Sidney's heart skipped a beat. Once more time to have his eyesight checked – this was the woman who had discussed him with Charlotte at the party at the Regency Excelsior Hotel. Sure enough, she now said: "I'm here to continue my conversation with Charlotte."
Everyone was staring at Charlotte, who tugged her clipboard under her arm, took Lady Worcester's hands and returned the smile with a surprised "Susan!".
"Splendid," Sidney heard Tom mutter, and "Who's that?" someone behind him asked. Eliza had returned, having changed into a cream coloured blouse.
"Lady Worcester," Sidney said, shaking his head at the unending number of surprises Charlotte Heywood held in store. "A friend of the Duke of Cambridge. And of Miss Heywood, it seems."
