Chapter Text
It was a brilliantly sunny summer afternoon, the type where the sky seems an endless stretch of perfect blue, everything seems saturated with vivid colour, and one finds themselves smiling for no apparent reason. Charlotte looked out the window of the train, wishing that she could get out and stop along the cliffs, stretching her legs and basking in the sea breezes. If she had been driving, she would have done exactly that- found a quiet place to pull off the motorway, and sit for a spell, watching the way the sunlight sparkled on the surface of the water. She breathed in deeply, trying to imagine she could smell the salt in the sea air, but all she could smell was the stale cigarette odor of the woman in the seat behind her. She sighed lightly, knowing that she would have plenty of time for walks along the water once she reached her destination, but impatient to actually arrive.
The train ride was not an especially long one- just under three hours- but Charlotte was finding it to pass very slowly. She had brought a book, but Plato’s Dialogues could not hold her interest. She kept glancing out the window, and losing her place on the page. Her thoughts were a jumbled mix of excitement, apprehension, and practicality. She had never attempted anything like this trip before, though she knew that a month on her own in a seaside town on the Sussex coast would hardly seem adventurous to many of her university friends. She had never taken a semester abroad or traveled the Continent, as so many of her friends had, and so she did not have the same experience of seedy youth hostels or trying to find her way around an unfamiliar place. London had been new enough for her, and it had taken her most of her first year of university to feel like she could get around the city without getting lost. It had been a huge adjustment, after the quiet rurality of Willingden, and even after five years there, London never quite felt like home. There were certainly aspects of city life that Charlotte enjoyed, like being able to find an open restaurant at 11:00pm after skipping supper to write a paper, or stumbling upon a gem of a vintage clothing store, but the whole of London was too loud, too crowded, too expensive, too hectic…too everything, really. It would be fun to visit her friends there, for a holiday weekend or the like, but Charlotte had no intention of living there for the foreseeable future. She had packed up her belongings from the flat she shared with two other graduate students without much of a backwards glance. Charlotte didn’t know what her future would bring, but she did know that it wouldn’t be in London. Her future, however, was not a today problem. She had promised herself this month to just be Charlotte, whatever that entailed, and would deal with finding a job and figuring out the rest of her life when the month was over.
At home, as the eldest of 6 siblings, Charlotte had grown up very accustomed to always sharing her space and having others around. She had shared a room with her sister Alison, who was only one year younger, for the first 18 years of her life. It was one of the few aspects of moving to London that had been familiar- that sense of always being surrounded by other people. Charlotte had had no difficulty whatsoever getting used to sharing a dorm room, or a flat, and had been a very easy flatmate to live with. None of her friends, however, had even the slightest interest in spending their summer in Sanditon, and so Charlotte had taken the rather un-Charlotte-like step of renting a small vacation flat for a month and striking off, completely alone, as her graduation present to herself. After devoting the majority of the past five years to a balance of work and study, Charlotte felt that she deserved a break. Maybe a Regency revival fair in a historic landmark town was not everyone’s idea of a dream vacation, but it was Charlotte’s. She was going to spend the next month immersing herself in Sanditon’s picturesque beaches and charming historical sights. And if no one she knew was going to enjoy it with her, well…she would simply have to exert herself to make some new friends. Surely the Regency Fair would draw some like-minded tourists that she would click with?
Lost in her thoughts, Charlotte passed the time. She alternated between giddy excitement to be almost in Sanditon and mild anxiousness that something would go wrong. She had printed out the information of her rental flat, in case she could not access a Wifi signal when she arrived, and she pulled it out of her purse more than once to review it. She had been in contact with her hostess, a friendly-seeming lady called Mary Parker, through email, and Mary had supplied her with very detailed instructions for how to get from Sanditon Station to Waterloo Terrace. Mary had even gone so far as to ask which train Charlotte planned to arrive on, so that she might meet her at the Terrace and show her the flat. Charlotte took no small comfort from this thoughtfulness, as it made her feel as though she had a friend to meet her, even though she had never laid eyes on Mary before. She sincerely hoped that meeting people would not prove difficult. Charlotte had never before had the experience of going somewhere where she was a complete stranger. Even when she went to university, she’d had a small handful of acquaintances of her parents to welcome her and get her on her feet.
The train began to slow as it pulled into the station, and Charlotte could hardly remain in her seat once it came to a stop. She collected her two suitcases, and by following Mary’s directions was able to make her way in under 20 minutes to a handsome building with stone façade in the center of Old Sanditon, the historic district of the town. The taxi ride had given Charlotte a glimpse of modern Sanditon, which sprawled inland from the old town, and it seemed a pleasant enough place to shop and explore, but Old Sanditon was absolutely charming, and exactly what she had come for! It felt incongruous to pull up in a taxi, rather than a chaise and four. The buildings looked just like the pictures in the history books that Charlotte had read, and as the taxi pulled away, she took a moment to stand and look about her, imagining how the streets must have looked two hundred years before when the seaside resort was first being developed.
“Miss Heywood?” a soft voice drew her attention back to the 21st century, and Charlotte turned to see that it belonged to a smiling, blonde lady in her late 30’s. Charlotte instinctively smiled back, and nodded acknowledgment.
“Yes, that’s me,” she replied. “Are you Mary Parker?”
“You bet. Nice to meet you!” The blonde lady continued to smile as she made her way towards Charlotte, politely gesturing towards one of Charlotte’s suitcases with the silent offer to help her carry it. Charlotte gratefully accepted, and followed Mary into the building as she began describing the flat and the amenities. It was a simple enough layout, with one bedroom, a 4 piece bathroom, small kitchen and living area. The furnishings were modern and tasteful, but Charlotte again felt that twinge of dissonance at having the conveniences of modern technology when the view from her window looked as though she had stepped through a time portal. She was far from disappointed, though. This flat would make a lovely little home base to retreat to every day, and she felt that her Sanditon adventure was off to a wonderful start.
“Thank you, Mary. This is all so delightful!” Charlotte reassured her. “I am so thrilled to be here. I hate to take any more of your time, but I don’t suppose you could tell me where I should go for groceries? Or what restaurants you recommend?”
“Certainly, dear. There is a binder on the coffee table, with all sorts of information about Sanditon, both the old town and the new. If there is anything you wish to know that is not in there, just send me a text or email. My husband’s family has been in the area for over two hundred years, and I don’t think there is anything about this town that they do not know or cannot find out!”
“Oh, I didn’t see the binder. That will be perfect, thanks! I don’t mind cooking at all, but I think I want to celebrate my first night here by eating out. Definitely seems better than eating take-out alone in an empty flat!”
“Surely you won’t be eating in a restaurant by yourself? Isn’t there a friend who can meet up with you?” Mary could not imagine this lovely young woman sitting in a lonely corner of a restaurant, eating alone. There was something very engaging about Miss Heywood. She exuded a certain warmth, undoubtedly assisted by her expressive eyes and ready smile, that made her seem like someone you wished to get to know better. Mary loved running her rental flats- and they owned several throughout Sanditon- but not every tenant inspired this wish. Mary had become an excellent judge of character, after interacting with so many vacation tenants, and her instinct told her that Charlotte Heywood could be a friend, despite the difference in their ages.
“Actually, I don’t know anyone here!” Charlotte replied cheerfully. “I don’t think I’ll mind eating alone. I mean, I’ve never tried it, but this is my month for adventure, so I’m sure I can handle it.”
““What sort of adventure brings you to Sanditon, of all places?” Mary asked, more intrigued by the moment. “People come here for all sorts of reasons, but I wouldn’t say that ‘adventure’ is one of them. We’re a pretty tame resort town.”
Charlotte began to explain what drew her to Sanditon- how her deep love of history since childhood and her later interest in urban planning and design had combined to give her a fascination of historic old towns. She told Mary how she had spent a week the previous summer at the Jane Austen Regency Fair in Bath, and had such a blast dressing up in costume and pretending to be a young lady in Regency times, and that when she heard Sanditon was celebrating its bicentennial this summer with a Regency fair of its own, she decided that it was the perfect graduation gift to herself. “I decided to come for a whole month,” she ended, “though my parents and my friends all think I am off my rocker. My sister Alison has bet me that I will be bored within a week, but I don’t think so. I know that I have only been here an hour or so, but there is something about Sanditon that is just…I don’t know, speaking to me.”
“Charlotte, my dear, I think you should come have dinner with us tonight,” Mary said decisively. “My husband, Tom, is a complete enthusiast on the subject of Sanditon, and he will be delighted to meet you. He knows a ton about the town’s history, and he loves to talk about it with anyone who will listen. You two can talk about it to your heart’s content. Besides, I hate the image of your great adventure starting off with you eating by yourself.”
“Oh, I couldn’t impose!” Charlotte immediately protested, although she inwardly was longing to accept. The one thing her adventure lacked was a friend, and here it seemed that Mary was offering her two.
“I absolutely insist,” Mary replied firmly. She picked up the pen that was on the small desk in the bedroom, and wrote an address on the pad of paper beside it. “Now, I know you have my number, so ring if you get lost. We live in modern Sanditon, but it’s an easy 15 minute walk or an even shorter taxi. We eat around 6:30, for the kids’ sake. I hope that is not too early?”
Charlotte thanked her profusely, and confirmed that 6:30 suited her perfectly. It was only a little after 2pm now, and that gave her several hours to explore before supper. Mary let herself out, and sent Tom a text to let him know that they would have company. Sometimes, he got so caught up in his work that he lost track of time and missed supper with the kids, and she did not want to run that risk tonight after promising Charlotte the opportunity to pick Tom’s brains. She found herself looking forward to getting to know Charlotte better- there was such a mix of intelligence, sweetness and animation in her that was really rather bewitching.
Charlotte unpacked her suitcases, and made a quick trip to the grocery for some basic supplies. She would stock up more fully in a day or so, but for now, she didn’t feel like spending the time doing something so mundane. Stopping at her flat just long enough to put away her groceries, Charlotte then headed straight for the beach. She had longed to do ever since spying the water from the train window. She wasn’t really a “beach person” per say, since she never liked lying around in some tiny excuse for a bathing suit, getting covered with sand, but she loved the feel of the sand between her toes and the splash of water on her legs while she waded. There was a serenity found in the gentle lap of the water against the shore, and in the play of the breeze through her hair, that she had never been able to find in either the hectic bustle of London or the noisy cheerfulness of home.
She strolled along the beach, watching the people around her and amusing herself by inventing backstories for each of them. The young couple on the blanket, she mused, were on their first trip in years without their small children, and were thrilled to have some time alone with no diapers or strollers to deal with. There was something very sweet in the way they held hands and seemed completely absorbed in one another, without any inappropriate beach gropings, that made her think they had already been together for several years, and were still deeply in love. She liked the thought. Charlotte watched a tanned blond guy for several minutes, highly amused by his interactions with every reasonably attractive women who walked passed. Every time, he would assume a casual pose, run his hands through his wavy bond hair to make it look artfully tousled, and give a winning smile and a wink. She created a few different stories for him, ultimately settling on his being a down-on-his-luck musician with grandiose dreams of making it big.
Walking along, stopping every so often to pick up a pretty seashell, Charlotte wondered what kind of backstory someone would make up for her. She knew that she was considered pretty enough, and there had always been someone trying to hit on her on the rare occasion her friends got her out to a bar or club. Dating had never been a priority, though. She was in London to get her degree, and then went right on to her master’s. If she wasn’t studying, she was working her part-time job in a museum gift shop. Her parents could have paid her expenses, but she hated the idea of living off their generosity. That job hadn’t paid much, but it was enough for her monthly expenses. She only let her parents pay her rent. Independence mattered a lot to Charlotte, which was undoubtedly another reason she hadn’t bothered with a serious boyfriend. Observing her friends’ relationships, there had always been so much drama, and Charlotte just didn’t have room in her life for that. Or, she realized, she hadn’t had room while she was a student…and she wasn’t a student any more. Alison would absolutely be telling her to have some seaside fling, and Charlotte suspected that most of her friends would agree. Charlotte, on the other hand, suspected that she would be terrible at having a fling. Being completely honest with herself, Charlotte acknowledged that she wouldn’t even know how. But a seaside flirtation…now that was something she might be able to pull off. She allowed herself to daydream, picturing the Sanditon Midsummer Ball, where everyone would be in full Regency costume. She would have her fancy ball gown, her hair curled and pinned up in some elegant Jane Austen style, and she would be asked to dance by a handsome stranger. Dark hair, she decided, with dark eyes, and maybe a hint of five o’clock shadow. They would dance, and he would hold her closer than would have been considered proper, but she wouldn’t say anything. After the dance, he wouldn’t let her go, and instead would take her hand and lead her out to some balcony, where they would talk and talk and talk. And finally, he would kiss her, with the sounds of the orchestra swelling in the background, and it would be perfect. Charlotte sighed, smiling at the whole idea. Sometimes, she felt like she had been born into the wrong century, and that she would have done so much better with the etiquette of 19th century courtship than with 21st century mating rituals.
Eventually, Charlotte realized that she had been on the beach for hours, and that it was getting close to 6:30. Dragging her thoughts away from her fictitious Regency man, she returned to her flat to shower and change for supper with the Parkers.