"Sidney!" someone cried, screeching like a fire alarm.

mrscampion had been attacked by a herring gull. Or by an American bald eagle, judging by her description of the attacker. But since American bald eagles were not known to be nesting on British shores, it must have been a herring gull. The most giant herring gull on the whole of the south coast.

She had been innocently walking towards the racecourse, taking bites from the Strawberry Secret in her hands, when the aggressive bird took a nosedive at her. It had flapped its majestic silver wings in her face and snatched the Strawberry Secret from her carefully manicured fingers.

To Sidney's credit, he did not drop Charlotte like a hot potato at the sound of mrscampion's screeching. Neither did he run away from her as if stung by a bee. Given the limited space inside a golf cart, that was impossible. Charlotte immediately sat up, bumping her head on the roof, and Sidney mumbled "Sorry", and whether that was referring to Charlotte bumping her head or mrscampion interrupting Charlotte's study of his eyes was left to anyone's imagination. Thrown back into reality, they both blushed and looked the other way. Charlotte squeezed herself past the steering wheel and got out on her side of the cart, freeing Sidney to move out on his side.

By the time they reached a trembling mrscampion, Diana and her first aid kit had arrived as well. The hungry bird had not only stolen half a Strawberry Secret but also hacked into its victim's index finger. This injury prompted Diana to hold a very serious speech about the importance of checking one's vaccination status regularly. At the same time, she was cleaning mrscampion's index finger with disinfectant and applying a bandage – though whether it was blood or Strawberry jelly that she was cleaning away was left to anyone's imagination again. During this operation, mrscampion held on to Sidney's arm as if for dear life, demanding the extinction of the whole British herring gull population.

Charlotte turned her back on the scene and walked back to the abandoned golf cart. A giant herring gull was landing on the roof: her old friend with the damaged plumage that liked to peep in on her from the gutter in front of her room. What do you want, it seemed to ask Charlotte, half a strawberry dangling from its yellow beak. If I had not interfered, she would have stumbled right over you as you were exploring your distant country. That would have led to a real blood bath.

The bird had a point there, Charlotte thought. mrscampion walking in on a sweet moment shared with Sidney was undoubtedly the least romantic thing in the world, and it was highly unlikely that the woman would have simply turned around and mumbled: "I'm sorry". Charlotte shied the herring gull away with a sigh and drove the cart back to the start line.

Mr Parker's hopes for positive Instagram posts to grab the attention of mrscampion's half a million followers were indeed to be disappointed, for if one was perfectly honest, this day was not going in her favour. First the cupcake accident, then Lady Worcester stealing all the attention away from her, now the attack of the revengeful herring gull. And there seemed to have occurred another incident involving Crowe who had mistaken mrscampion's handbag for a rubbish bin and deposited some greasy sandwich wrap inside. Not to mention the fact that Sidney Parker seemed to be more interested in discussing relationships with Charlotte Heywood than anything else with his personal guest.

She looked over to mrscampion, who, leaning on Sidney for support, was walking back to the hotel, probably still demanding the extinction of the British herring gull population.

And do you think you can forgive that person for… being such a fool at times?

I had convinced myself that I was destined to remain alone. That I was ill-suited for a relationship.

The sadness of these words still stung her, and at the same time, she understood that she better stopped being so very forgiving, because mrscampion was clearly not. mrscampion was like a bull that was being teased: she only became more likely to attack. And mrscampion's attack would be extra painful, that much was obvious.

Charlotte returned to Regency Row where the stalls on the lawn were attracting a considerable crowd of people – more people than she had expected, and many of them just looking like the clientele Lady Denham hoped to attract for the golf club.

At the champagne tent, Charlotte saw Susan in conversation with an elderly couple. She did not wish to interrupt, but when Susan waved at her, she shyly came closer.

"Charlotte, my dear! Please meet my good friends, Lord and Lady Grassmere. – This is Charlotte Heywood, the young lady to whom we owe this delightful day."

"Well done, Miss Heywood. Very well done," Lord Grassmere said, toasting her with his glass. Lady Grassmere nodded her head emphatically as if to underline every word her husband said.

"Thank you," Charlotte said, slightly abashed. As Lord and Lady Grassmere took their leave to try their luck at the tombola, she moved a little closer to Susan. "Are all these people here at your invitation?"

"Not necessarily." Susan smiled. "I might have dropped the word with a few friends, and they've dropped the word again … and so on until everyone was convinced they would be missing the most exciting event of the year if they did not come to Sanditon this Sunday."

"They would be missing the golf cart race. That is going to be exciting," Charlotte agreed. "I hardly know how to thank you!"

"There is no need for you to thank me, Charlotte," Susan said very seriously. "I came here to enjoy your company, and I'm pleased to see that everything is working out so well for you." She turned around to the champagne stand and handed Charlotte a glass, taking another one herself.

"I hear Mrs Influencer has survived a vicious bird attack?"

"She has." Charlotte wondered how to tell her about her romantic golf cart adventure when Susan's friendly face brightened up even more.

"I also believe we can safely say we have found her Achilles Heel."

"Have we?" Charlotte asked, only now realising that mrscampion was walking towards the tent, holding her bandaged hand up. Sidney Parker was following her two steps behind, looking not very happy at all.

"Indeed we have." Susan smiled. "It's you."

mrscampion lost no time. "May we join you?" she asked, nodding at Sidney to hand her a glass of champagne, which he obligingly did. She made a bit of a drama of holding the glass with her bandaged hand while clutching her handbag with the other before she added: "What is the topic of discussion?"

Susan switched on her most charming smile. "Charlotte and I were just talking about love." Were they? Charlotte wished she could vanish into thin air. But Susan had more in store: "What is your view on love, Mr Parker?"

Sidney looked up with surprise, then started shifting from one foot to another, not really meeting anyone's eye. "I'm… err; I'm hardly an expert."

"What about you, Charlotte?" mrscampion asked, the friendliest false smile on her face Charlotte had ever seen. Apparently, the herring gull episode was already forgotten. "Do you have a boyfriend?"

Charlotte considered throwing the contents of her champagne glass at the woman's face. Or thrashing her with her own ugly handbag. Anything, just to make her shut up. But she controlled herself. "If I were to enter a relationship, it would have to be based on mutual love and affection," she said. "Unless I can be sure of that, I would prefer to remain alone." Sidney Parker was busy moving around bits of the lawn with the tip of his right shoe.

mrscampion added a false laugh to her false smile. "Come on – a girl your age? So picky? There must be someone in hotel management school who caught your eye."

"And why should Charlotte be limited to her school?" Susan asked, winning the competition of false smiles by far.

"I always think it helps to share a common background," mrscampion explained, filing yet another entry for the competition of false smiles. "Charlotte is hardly likely to find a kindred spirit in our company."

Susan persisted. "And why not?"

"I just imagine she finds all our fashion and society talk unspeakably tedious," mrscampion kindly explained. "A hotel is a great place if you are the owner and can dabble with the fun parts like marketing and interior design, but for the ordinary worker, it's close to slavery with long hours and little pay. My sister worked as a receptionist during her studies, and she said it's killing any relationship unless you have a partner who is in the industry too." She took Sidney by the arm. "You've left your family's hotel business behind, and for a good reason – you would agree, wouldn't you, Sidney?"

Sidney stopped mistreating the lawn and gazed into his champagne glass. He was obviously hoping to find an answer in there. When a reply would not pop up with the bubbles, he tried a smile, which did not work either. "I believe Charlotte does not mind hard work if it benefits her career, and I do not doubt that she is more interested in business administration than in interior design."

"Hard work and business administration!" Now mrscampion's laughter was real, and she looked around to invite others into her mirth. "How wicked you are, Sidney! That is certainly not going to help her find a boyfriend."

There it was, the angry bull's attack Charlotte had been fearing. She felt the tears shoot into her eyes, but she managed to hold her head high. "You are quite right, Mrs Campion," she said. "I'm a farmer's daughter who hopes to improve her position in life through hard work and learning. What could I possibly have in common with anyone here? Excuse me." She turned and walked away, unable to stop those treacherous tears from falling.

x

Sidney knew he was wrong even before he opened his mouth. The only correct answer was to hammer Eliza with her own ugly handbag and tell her that she had no business – absolutely no business at all – to mock a girl eight years her junior. A girl from a much humbler background than herself, a girl that was trying to make a career. A career based on discipline, work experience and learning, not on a reality TV show, an Instagram account and a short-term marriage to the next available millionaire.

Yet, what he said was something very different, and it was utterly wrong. He saw the pain in Charlotte's eyes and the disapproval in Susan's petrified smile. What was it that always made him treat Charlotte abominably when Eliza was nearby?

"You are quite right, Mrs Campion," he heard Charlotte say. "I'm a farmer's daughter who hopes to improve her position in life through hard work and learning. What could I possibly have in common with anyone here? Excuse me." She turned and walked away, her head held high, but the shaking of her shoulders belying her emotions.

How could he? Hurt her of all people like that? Several seconds passed by in embarrassed silence until he came to his senses. "Excuse me," he mumbled, and without looking at Eliza or Lady Worcester, he ran after Charlotte.

He caught her by the bookstall, out of sight of the champagne tent.

"Charlotte…" Indeed the worst moment to end the Miss-Heywood-Mr-Parker-nonsense. And she did not even seem to notice it.

"Sorry, I'm very busy right now," she told his left shoulder. "The golf cart race is about to start, and I must…"

"Just for a moment," he pleaded, touching her as lightly as possible by the elbow. He did not want to scare her, and he did not want her to run away, either.

"Well?"

"I just wanted to say… I hope you were not too offended by Eliza. It was only meant in jest." It was not. He knew it, and Charlotte knew it, and she did not buy it from him. Instead, she raised her dear dimpled chin in defiance.

"Is that what I am to you? A joke?"

"No! You are… you are…" What was she, apart from a lovely face and a vivid mind?

"You've done me a great service, Mr Parker. Thank you. I am no longer in any doubt as to how you regard me." Hurt: that was what she was.

"Miss Heywood!" He caught her by the arm again, a bit firmer now, but released her when he saw her face.

"What? What is it you want from me?"

He opened his mouth, thought for a second, then closed it again, dumbfounded.

What was it he wanted from her?

Yes, what indeed?

It was surprisingly simple.

He wanted her.

He wanted her smile, her laughter, her large eyes shining down on him. He wanted to caress her and tickle her and hear her sigh under his touch. He wanted to kiss that dimple, and he wanted to feel her lips on his. He wanted to entangle his hands in her hair again, and he wanted to pull her close to him. He wanted to explore her like no other woman before. And he wanted to lose himself in her embrace, relishing the liberating knowledge that she truly and fully understood and accepted him, whatever his faults were. He wanted her opinion, her advice, even her assumptions. He wanted to protect her, and he wanted to make her happy. He wanted her to be the mother of his children and his companion for the rest of his life.

He wanted her love.

Because with her love, he would be a better man, a man daring to be his true self.

That was what he wanted from Charlotte Heywood.

And so far, all he had done to win her love was to fail her. Again and again and again.

When he met her eyes now, he saw that he had lost her. This time, she was not going to forgive. This time, she was not going to hand him an olive twig or build him a rhetorical bridge. He had overplayed his hand and delivered one disappointment too many.

She simply shook her head, her eyes shiny with tears. "Please, be kind enough to leave me alone," she said and walked away from him without looking back.

Notes:

There next update will be on Thursday.