going down to watch that.’
‘So you want to be a film director?’ replied Jim without any hint of amusement.
‘I don’t know. It’s a ridiculous dream,’ she said. Some things were too big to fantasise about. To say them out loud sounded arrogant at best, laughable at least. ‘I did a few video production classes at college and loved it, but I wouldn’t know where to start.’
‘Get a camcorder and start shooting. Savannah is so photogenic, it’s crying out to be in a movie.’
‘I’d need actors and stuff. Where do I find them?’
‘You can use real people.’
‘You mean like The Real World ?’
‘Maybe,’ he smiled. ‘Film your friends this summer. Connor and everyone he doesn’t approve of. You could call it Yuppies and Bums . And when you go and collect your Oscar, I can say I knew you back when and then bribe you into letting me do the soundtrack for your next movie.’
‘You’ll be Jim Johnson, rock star, by then.’
‘With a bit of luck.’
‘You’ll have to write me a song.’
‘If you play your cards right.’ He grinned and gave her a look that made her shiver, a look that told her it was time to go home.
As they turned around, away from the railings, an old couple walked past them hand in hand. The woman, with her silver hair and big glasses, smiled at her, a conspiratorial and wistful look that made Jennifer feel guilty and uncomfortable. For even though they were by a cemetery, she could see the romance in this situation and wondered how it had happened. After all, it was just a few hours earlier that she had quite disliked Jim Johnson. Enough to reject Connor’s idea of setting him up with Jeanne, although now that she had discovered he was funny and sharp and interesting, she still wasn’t sure that she wanted to fix him up with Jeanne or any of her friends.
‘We should go back,’ she said, and he nodded in agreement.
They made small talk on the way home, and when he stopped the truck outside Casa D’Or, there was an awkward moment when they sat there in silence.
‘You’ve convinced me of Savannah’s charms,’ he said, defusing the tension. ‘We should do it again. Maybe see that Tom Hanks movie you were talking about.’
She wasn’t sure if she was excited or disappointed as he got out of the driver’s seat and came round to open the door for her.
She reminded herself it was perfectly natural, desirable even, to have friends of the opposite sex, especially ones who were visitors in your hometown, ones you wanted to make feel welcome. And yet she felt gloriously rebellious and shamefully traitorous as she turned around, gave him her most encouraging smile, and said, ‘Yes, that would be nice.’
Chapter Ten
The marina at the Isle of Hope was one of Jennifer’s favourite places in the world. Just a short bicycle ride away from her house, it was not huge, with just a handful of boats moored along the slips, but the people were friendly, the sunsets were glorious and the access to the rivers, tidal creeks and coastline was good. Her own twenty-two-foot cruiser, Sparkling Tinkerbell , her father’s nickname for her as a child, had been moored there ever since he had given it to her for her eighteenth birthday. It was small enough to keep by the creek at Casa D’Or, but she liked to berth at the marina, where there was a friendly community of sailing enthusiasts who had been teaching her how to tie knots and improve her seamanship since she was small.
Back when she was growing up, she used to come here with her father. As an only child whose school was several miles away and who had few local friends, she regarded David Wyatt as a great pal as well as a parent. His increasing workload meant he didn’t come down as much any more, but Jennifer still used it as a place to escape and forget her worries. She liked nothing better than taking Sparkling Tinkerbell out along the intercoastal waterway, with an ice bucket full of soda, snaking along the rivers
‘So you want to be a film director?’ replied Jim without any hint of amusement.
‘I don’t know. It’s a ridiculous dream,’ she said. Some things were too big to fantasise about. To say them out loud sounded arrogant at best, laughable at least. ‘I did a few video production classes at college and loved it, but I wouldn’t know where to start.’
‘Get a camcorder and start shooting. Savannah is so photogenic, it’s crying out to be in a movie.’
‘I’d need actors and stuff. Where do I find them?’
‘You can use real people.’
‘You mean like The Real World ?’
‘Maybe,’ he smiled. ‘Film your friends this summer. Connor and everyone he doesn’t approve of. You could call it Yuppies and Bums . And when you go and collect your Oscar, I can say I knew you back when and then bribe you into letting me do the soundtrack for your next movie.’
‘You’ll be Jim Johnson, rock star, by then.’
‘With a bit of luck.’
‘You’ll have to write me a song.’
‘If you play your cards right.’ He grinned and gave her a look that made her shiver, a look that told her it was time to go home.
As they turned around, away from the railings, an old couple walked past them hand in hand. The woman, with her silver hair and big glasses, smiled at her, a conspiratorial and wistful look that made Jennifer feel guilty and uncomfortable. For even though they were by a cemetery, she could see the romance in this situation and wondered how it had happened. After all, it was just a few hours earlier that she had quite disliked Jim Johnson. Enough to reject Connor’s idea of setting him up with Jeanne, although now that she had discovered he was funny and sharp and interesting, she still wasn’t sure that she wanted to fix him up with Jeanne or any of her friends.
‘We should go back,’ she said, and he nodded in agreement.
They made small talk on the way home, and when he stopped the truck outside Casa D’Or, there was an awkward moment when they sat there in silence.
‘You’ve convinced me of Savannah’s charms,’ he said, defusing the tension. ‘We should do it again. Maybe see that Tom Hanks movie you were talking about.’
She wasn’t sure if she was excited or disappointed as he got out of the driver’s seat and came round to open the door for her.
She reminded herself it was perfectly natural, desirable even, to have friends of the opposite sex, especially ones who were visitors in your hometown, ones you wanted to make feel welcome. And yet she felt gloriously rebellious and shamefully traitorous as she turned around, gave him her most encouraging smile, and said, ‘Yes, that would be nice.’
Chapter Ten
The marina at the Isle of Hope was one of Jennifer’s favourite places in the world. Just a short bicycle ride away from her house, it was not huge, with just a handful of boats moored along the slips, but the people were friendly, the sunsets were glorious and the access to the rivers, tidal creeks and coastline was good. Her own twenty-two-foot cruiser, Sparkling Tinkerbell , her father’s nickname for her as a child, had been moored there ever since he had given it to her for her eighteenth birthday. It was small enough to keep by the creek at Casa D’Or, but she liked to berth at the marina, where there was a friendly community of sailing enthusiasts who had been teaching her how to tie knots and improve her seamanship since she was small.
Back when she was growing up, she used to come here with her father. As an only child whose school was several miles away and who had few local friends, she regarded David Wyatt as a great pal as well as a parent. His increasing workload meant he didn’t come down as much any more, but Jennifer still used it as a place to escape and forget her worries. She liked nothing better than taking Sparkling Tinkerbell out along the intercoastal waterway, with an ice bucket full of soda, snaking along the rivers
Similar Books
