Authors: Faith Bleasdale
Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Women's Fiction, #Contemporary Women, #Romance, #Contemporary, #Romantic Comedy, #Contemporary Fiction
His five competition winners were also dining there, Thea having been parted from Tim’s bedside by the doctor, who insisted that he needed rest. He was much better, she reported, and an unlikely friendship seemed to exist between them and Todd and Katie. He would never have thought it possible.
Anne-Marie was in a private hospital, receiving the best care available. The early verdict was that it would be a long, slow road to recovery for her, and in the meantime Ed had power of attorney over all her affairs, although most were in joint names.
Abigail had told him of her plans and he’d given her his blessing. After all, they now shared an understanding, he thought, as he looked at Lily.
David and Harriet sat with Lily at the bar; the stress of the last few days seemed to be slowly lifting as they began to relax. Ed felt relaxed, even though he felt guilty about that, with his wife locked up in hospital. He had to admit he felt as if the large boulder had been lifted from him. He went to join them.
‘I got you a brandy, honey,’ Lily said tenderly.
He kissed her on the cheek and took the drink from her.
‘Maybe a toast is in order.’ He raised his glass. ‘To those who are absent.’ He thought of Anne-Marie and Tim. ‘And to those who are here. To a mad week and the inevitable madness ahead.’
‘To the fact that they’re safe,’ David added, raising his glass.
Ed looked at the kidnap victims. It really wasn’t much of a kidnapping, even he had to admit that as he saw them all looking happy and healthy—apart from poor Tim, of course. He shuddered as he thought about what could have happened there.
‘To Katie, for surprising me more than anyone has.’ Harriet raised her glass.
‘To The Love Resort,’ Lily charged. ‘And to Love,’ she added. She looked at Ed, she looked at Emily and Lee, and she knew that even though the others weren’t in love, they had shown love by the bucketload.
‘So, are you two going to run this place now?’ David asked, after glasses had been clinked.
‘You’re kidding?’ Lily replied.
‘First thing in the morning, it’s going on the market,’ Ed finished with a smile.
32
Questionnaire
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Would you say your stay here fulfilled your romantic expectations?
How would you describe the level of service?
Was the food all you imagined from a five-star resort?
Were the staff attentive to your needs?
Would you return to the resort at a later date?
How did you find the owner and brainchild behind the resort, Anne-Marie Langdale?
Thank you for your time, and Goodbye. The Love Resort misses you already.
Guest
Handbook
*
‘Welcome back to
The
Morning
Show
. I’m your host, Margaret Harding, and right now I am joined by Abigail and André, of
The
Love
Resort
fame. That’s some story, Abigail.’
‘Oh, I know, it’s amazing. And you wouldn’t believe it if it hadn’t been all over the press,’ Abigail replied, smiling, as she and André held hands.
‘Well, yes, did you think the press dampened the revelations at all, as everyone knew most of what was going on already?’
‘No, because, of course, the book is about a lot more than just that. The whole incident happens to feature in it, but there’s so much more, isn’t there, André?’
‘The book, which spans twenty-odd years tells a story which I think is both moving and touching, and funny and romantic,’ André added.
‘Yes, and it has been massively in demand, although it’s not out until next week!’ Margaret clapped her hands excitedly.
‘Pre-sales have exceeded all our expectations.’
‘And I wanted to ask you, how did your husband, the publisher of the book, react when you told him that you were leaving him, in one breath, and writing a book, in another?’
‘Well, he understood that our marriage had run its course, and naturally he was delighted with the idea for the book. Can we change the subject?’
‘Did you think you were exploiting people in the book? Anne-Marie, for instance?’
‘Although there was no way I could get her approval, as she didn’t recognise me, I know in my heart she will be grateful for the sensitive way we handled her story. And I did seek the approval of everyone else that I wrote about, and I got it.’
‘Can you believe her?’ Ed asked as they watched the interview. ‘We didn’t get any money from her; she almost tortured my agreement out of me.’
‘She did not. She just said that if she told the story we’d be protected.’
‘I’m not sure we should have believed her, are you?’
‘She seems to have come out of the whole thing pretty well,’ Lily replied.
‘As did I. I managed to sell that awful resort and I got you. Poor Anne-Marie.’
‘—will get better and when she does she’s got a pot of money waiting for her.’
‘Her career is over.’
‘No way. Imagine, everyone will want to interview her. There will be self-help books...’
‘Lily, you sound like Abigail.’
‘Bugger off, although, like her, I quite like London.’
‘A bit colder than the Caribbean.’
‘Actually, honey, I think it’s so much warmer.’
*
‘Todd, Todd, are you there?’ Thea stood in front of him, smiling madly at the sight of him in his director’s chair.
‘Sorry, Thea. I was just thinking about that scene...’
‘Of course. Listen, Carla just called me from London. Abigail and the book are all over the press. She’s sending me the clippings.’
‘Why we let her do this I’ll never know.’
‘Someone was going to. Anyway, we got paid.’
‘I didn’t, but at least I got the film rights for free.’
‘Are you going to make it?’
‘I kind of feel really tempted. Hey, if you do a good job of this film you might get to play yourself.’
‘I’d rather be Anne-Marie.’ They laughed.
‘How is Carla?’
‘Dating everyone in London, by the sound of it. And her journalism course seems to be good.’
‘I’m glad it’s working out for her. Does she see Lee?’
‘No, thank God. She said she wanted to be friends but I don’t think she really did.’
‘Right, I’m done for the day. Where’s my leading lady?’
‘Ah, haven’t you heard? She’s holed up in her trailer with your leading man.’
‘Jesus, it didn’t take her long to get over me. Do you want a lift?’
‘I’m going to see Tim.’
‘Come on, I’ll take you. He’s so much better.’
‘Yeah, I know, but when he finally gets out of rehab he’ll be mad that Abigail wrote the book before he could.’
*
‘Hi, Carla,’ Jimmy said, after pulling himself out from under the classic Mercedes he was working on to answer the phone.
‘How are you?’
‘Fine. I just bought another classic car. It’s a beauty.’
‘With Abigail’s money?’
‘Yup.’
‘Good, because she’s on television again. Her and André. Love’s young dream. My God, it’s so funny.’
‘So how’s your love life?’
‘Jimmy, you never used to be this forward. But it’s fine, thank you, and I’m loving the course that I have Abigail to thank for.’
‘Believe me, I have a feeling she’s going to make more money out of this than we are.’
‘Sure, and I spoke to Thea yesterday and she sends her love.’
‘Enjoying being a big movie star, is she?’
‘Apparently she has only ten lines, but anyway, it’s still exciting. Hey, she said Tim was doing well.’
‘I wrote to him. It felt weird but I thought it might cheer him up.’
‘You’re so sweet.’
‘I guess I am. Carla, I had a breakthrough. I went to the pub.’
‘Emily’s pub?’
‘Her parents’ pub. Anyway, they told me that she’s moved to London.’
‘With Lee?’
‘Yes. They looked really embarrassed, but it was cool.’
‘Abigail’s on television now, that’s what prompted me to call. She just said she didn’t believe that they’d last.’ They both laughed.
‘I can imagine that Emily will be hopping mad. But anyway, I have a date.’
‘My God, spill.’
‘Oh, a customer just turned up. I’ll have to call you back.’
‘You’re rotten.’ Carla grinned into the phone as she heard him hang up.
*
‘Thank you so much, Abigail, André.’ Margaret turned to face the camera and picked up the hardback book. ‘Just to remind you, the book is called
The
Love
Resort
—
The
Demise
of
Anne
-
Marie
Langdale
, it’s out next week, on the fifteenth, and is priced at eighteen pounds ninety-nine.’
‘Thank you,’ Abigail said, beaming with pride.
‘Just finally, your story is in there as well, Abigail, your falling in love with the gorgeous André here.’
‘Thank you,’ André said.
‘You’re welcome.’ She laughed. ‘So, any final words from you about love?’
‘Of course. The thing about love is that it can’t be made. It has to happen, naturally, organically, magically. It’s different from romance, very, very different.’ She paused, looked at Margaret, then at André, and finally into the camera. ‘Romance can be created, but love, true love never can.’
If you enjoyed
The Love Resort
you might be interested in
Deranged Marriage
by Faith Bleasdale, also published by Endeavour Press.
Extract from
Deranged Marriage
by Faith Bleasdale
Prologue
At some stage in life, most people make a marriage pact. This arrangement is an undertaking to marry someone as long as you are both unattached by the time you reach a certain age.
There are certain guidelines to follow when you are entering such a pact:
You should be much younger than the deadline you set as the marriage-pact age. This gives both parties ample time to find their destined life partners before the agreement expiry date.
It has to be a verbal commitment. No lawyers need be involved in this type of contract.
Both parties should feel vulnerable and unloved before entering the agreement.
Both parties must be intoxicated.
If you adhere to these simple guidelines, then you have made a successful marriage pact. However, the rules do not end there. They carry on into the aftermath of the ‘deal’:
Once made, it must be forgotten. A distant memory, only recalled when you are both happily married to other people.
The main condition is that once made, you do not ever intend to carry out the pact. Because destiny will wash your true love up on to your shore. It’s a bit like panic-buying: when you hear there’s going to be a shortage of something, you buy because you have to, not because you want to.
Take a word from the wise, as my mother would say, because I am now wise. I was twenty when I made my marriage pact. Without knowing the rules, I failed to adhere to some of them. Yes, I was drunk, as was he. I was vulnerable, as was he. I wasn’t in love with him; he wasn’t in love with me. We had set a ten-year deadline—adequate time to find the true loves of our lives. However, we failed, by ignoring the simplest of the rules: we didn’t make a verbal agreement, we produced a written one.
We didn’t stop there, we rolled drunkenly to the local off-licence with it and asked the man behind the counter to witness the ‘document’. Looking back, I think we took the intoxication rule a tad too far. Afterwards, we left our wayward path, returned to the rules, and forgot about it.
Then, one fateful day, it all came back to haunt me in the most unimaginable way.
Chapter One
Two
Men
‘What do you wear to court?’ I screamed in frustration at my wardrobe. I was staring at rows and rows of clothes as if they would tell me. Of course they wouldn’t, clothes had a habit of refusing to answer important questions. I had been awake for hours, I felt sick and tired, and more than a tiny bit hysterical. Joe came up behind me.
‘Try to stay calm,’ he said. Like a red rag to a bull.
‘I’d like to see you try to stay calm, if you were me.’
‘Sorry.’ Joe looked suitably contrite, although none of this was his fault.
‘What do you think I should wear?’ I asked, nicely, throwing in a smile for good measure.
‘A suit,’ Joe replied.
My resolution dissolved immediately. ‘Yeah thanks, mastermind. What colour?’ I felt awful for the way I was treating him but I had no control over my bitchiness.