Not Quite Perfect (16 page)

‘Fine. No thanks to you.’ Emma is feeling drunk and feisty.

‘Ooh, touchy. What? Is he still pining for me?’

‘No, I think he’s moved on actually.’

‘Ahhh, so you’re sleeping with him, are you?’

Emma fixes her with a Darcy stare. ‘Not everything revolves around sex, flirting and you, OK? You may think that people are hanging on your every word and opinion, but they’re not. You should try listening to yourself sometimes. It’s actually quite dull. Oh, and have you read Richard’s new book? If I were you, I wouldn’t be too proud to be called Stella at the moment.’

Without waiting for a reply, Emma gathers up her belongings, kisses Vanessa and Josh goodbye and heads for the Tube, her head spinning. As she walks down the road, the cars and taxis seem a little bit louder than usual, the lights a little brighter. She is surprised at the strength of her anger towards Stella and how sorry she feels for Richard. He may flirt for England but he has a heart and it clearly has been broken. She flicks open her phone and dials his number. It goes straight to voicemail. She takes a deep breath.

‘Hi, Richard. It’s Emma. Again. I’m really sorry about that. It was unprofessional and you’re clearly upset. So please take this as an unreserved apology and if you need to talk, you know where I am. If it’s any consolation, I gave Stella a piece of my mind. It probably won’t do any good, but I tried. I’m going down into the Tube. Speak soon.’

Emma jogs down the moving escalator and jumps onto a waiting Tube just as the doors slide shut. It’s still hours before closing time and well past rush hour, and she is grateful to find an almost-empty carriage. Plonking herself down, she considers reading but feels too weary. She feels her phone buzz in her pocket and retrieves it. There is a text message from Richard: ‘Thanks Emma Darcy, Guardian Angel.’

Rachel hears Steve’s key in the door and waits patiently as he is greeted by all three of his children. He rough and tumbles his way down to the kitchen with Lily still clinging onto his leg.

‘I missed you today Daddy,’ she implores.

‘I missed you too, Lils,’ he smiles. ‘And now I have to go and hug Mummy.’

‘Aww,’ says Lily, but she lets go and runs back to the living room to join her brothers in front of the television.

‘You’re on time,’ says Rachel glancing up from the chopping board.

‘I’m on time,’ repeats Steve, wrapping his arms around his wife and stealing a slice of red pepper. She slaps his hand playfully. ‘It’s good to be home,’ he adds, walking over to the fridge and helping himself to a beer. ‘Want one?’

‘Oh go on then. Thursday is the new Friday and all that. How was your day?’

‘Bor-ing,’ he says parroting Lily. ‘How was yours?

‘Fine. We met up with Dad. He told me some interesting things about Mum actually.’

‘Go on.’

‘She left us for a bit when things got a bit much for her.’

‘Doesn’t sound like your mother.’

‘I know, but I guess life gets to us all sometimes.’

‘You’re not thinking of going anywhere are you, my sweet?’ asks Steve, his voice edged with concern.

‘No, are you?’ She turns to face him.

‘Hey, Rach, where has all this come from?’ He approaches her and holds her by the shoulders, studying her face.

‘Oh, I dunno. My brain just goes into overdrive sometimes. I worry what with you working late all the time that maybe you’re getting bored of me. I think I’m going mad sometimes. Maybe it’s because I spend all day with Barbie™ and Jeremy Vine.’

‘A match made in heaven,’ laughs Steve. ‘Listen, Rach. Life is hard sometimes and busy and, yes, I have been working late but you are the most wonderful woman I’ve ever known and nothing will ever change that. I love you so much. Don’t ever question that.’

Rachel gives him a small smile, feeling consoled. She knows she’s ridiculous to doubt Steve. Sue is right, her dad is right and it’s time to start behaving like a grown-up. She takes a sip of her beer and feels a bubble of excitement in the pit of her stomach. Scotland could be just the tonic she needs.

‘So, Ells. How are things?’ asks Emma, watching her friend switch on her computer, desperate for her to share her secret.

Ella looks up, a vague smile on her lips. ‘Fine, thanks. How about you? How are the wedding plans?’

‘Oh great. Really great. But enough about me, what about you? It feels like ages since we’ve talked. What’s been going on?’

Ella goes to open her mouth and then snaps it shut, as if she’s thought better of it. Emma is starting to feel cross. ‘Oh come on Ella, there must be something!’

Just at that moment, Emma’s phone rings and Ella, seeing an escape route, disappears to the kitchen. Emma snatches up the phone. ‘Hello?’ she barks.

‘Someone forgot to take their happy pills this morning!’

‘Richard. Sorry, I was just a bit – never mind. How are you?’

‘Tip-top thank you. Any chance you’re free for lunch today?’

Emma bites her lip. ‘Erm, let me just check my diary,’ she says, buying time.

‘Look if you’re busy,’ says Richard, sounding a little hurt.

‘No, no! I don’t have a meeting. That will be fine.’

‘Excellent. Shall I come to the offices around one?’

‘Perfect. See you later.’

Emma sighs as the call ends. She wonders if she’s spending too much time with Richard but reassures herself that it’s just part of the job. After all, she does have an editorial duty to him. She can’t help it that they get on so well. At least he seems to value her. She feels let down by Ella and the situation with Martin isn’t great at the moment. Head spinning, she decides to call Rachel for a reality check.

‘Hello?’ squeaks a small voice on the other end of the phone.

‘Lily? Is that you?’ asks Emma.

‘Naow silly, it’s Alfie. Is that Granny?’

‘No, silly, it’s Auntie Em,’ says Emma, horrified that she has started to sound like her mother. She hears another small, cross voice in the background.

‘Give me the phone, you silly boy. Auntie Em?’

‘Hello Pica-lily. Are you OK?’

‘I’m bored. What are you doing? Do you want to come round and play hairdressers?’

‘I would love to, Lils, but I’ve got to work. Is your mum there?’

‘MAAAARM!’ shrieks Lily into the mouthpiece. Emma clutches her ear, taking the full force of her niece’s cry.

‘Tart-face,’ says Rachel, reclaiming the phone. ‘You OK?’

‘I’m fine. How are you?’

‘Yeah, OK. Bit manic, we’re off to Scotland tomorrow. LILY! STOP HITTING YOUR BROTHER AND PUT THAT BAG OF ONIONS BACK IN THE CUPBOARD! Sorry, Em. You were saying?’

‘Oh nothing. I just wanted to check you were OK. You sound busy. I’ll let you go.’

‘Yeah, sorry, things are a bit crazy. Steve thought it was a good idea to drop this trip on me at the last minute and guess who has to pick up the pieces? The house is a tip and the kids are driving me – ALFIE! GET DOWN AT ONCE! YOU CAN NOT CLIMB UP ON THE BOOKSHELVES – YOU’LL F –’

Emma hears the sound of a small boy falling off some bookshelves, a four second delay and then a cry that echoes like an air-raid siren.

‘Sorry Em, got to go. Text you over the weekend.’

‘Bye,’ says Emma feeling lost and unsure of what to do next.

Rachel looks at the kitchen and wants to weep. Last night’s dinner things are strewn across the work surfaces, this morning’s breakfast things are still on the table, the dishwasher needs to be emptied, the washing machine needs to be filled and she can hear Lily telling Alfie to ‘SHUT UUUUUUUP!’ which will result in doors slamming and wailing within less than a minute. It’s the domestic equivalent of Armageddon. Rachel makes her way towards the sink and steps heavily on a chunk of Lego.

‘Shit! Ow! Shit!’ yells Rachel fighting the urge to kick something but not the urge to swear.

‘Mummy! That is a very bad word. I’m going to tell Granny!’ says Lily, her face set in a determined scowl.

‘Well if you children didn’t leave your stupid toys on the floor, maybe Mummy wouldn’t be in need of a new foot!’

Lily fixes her mother with a look which can only be described as withering. ‘You shouldn’t say “stupid”, Mummy. It is very rude.’

Rachel is tempted to say something a lot worse but manages to keep it together. ‘Where is your brother, Lily?’

‘I shut him in the wardrobe.’

‘Lily! He won’t be able to get out of there.’

‘He was being naughty. He has to learn.’

Rachel leapfrogs the toys obstructing her path and takes the stairs two at time, arriving at the top step breathless. She can hear Alfie now and the sound reminds her of a cornered animal from a wildlife documentary.

‘Coming, Alfie!’

She wrenches open the wardrobe door to find him huddled in a corner, struggling to get his breath and shaking with fear. She pulls him to her.

‘Lily! Come here now!’

After many sobs, apologies and angry words, a fragile peace is restored and Rachel returns downstairs to tackle all the jobs she has to do before she can even start packing. She hears arguing upstairs and is about to join in when there’s a tentative rap at the door. Her face is set in a furious expression as she flings open the door and is confronted with Tom’s kindly face. He laughs and puts up his hands.

‘Easy there, neighbour. I come in peace!’

Rachel smiles. ‘Sorry. No work today?’

‘No, I’m on holiday today. Are you having a bad morning?’

‘Did you hear us?’

‘Let’s just say the walls are rather thin.’

‘I’m so sorry. Listen, come in for a coffee but you’ll have to watch me wash up.’

‘I believe there are men who pay a lot for that kind of spectacle at some of the more exclusive Soho establishments.’

Rachel laughs.

‘Who is it?’ demands Lily from upstairs.

‘It’s Tom from next door.’

‘Oh I like him.’

Rachel winks at Tom. ‘You lucky fella. Praise indeed.’

Tom grins.

Lily appears in the doorway in her princess heels and minces over to Tom, fluttering her eyelashes. ‘Hi, Tom!’

‘Hi, Lily, how are you? You look very pretty today.’

‘I know,’ says Lily without a hint of irony. Rachel and Tom grin at one another. Alfie comes trailing in after his sister.

‘Hi, Alfie. Are you OK?’ asks Tom ruffling his hair.

‘Lily did be shutting me in the wardrobe.’

‘Oh did she? Oh dear.’

‘Alfie was being annoying!’ protests Lily.

‘Yes but that’s no reason to shut him in a cupboard. Goodness only knows I’ve wanted to do that to your father a few times,’ says Rachel.

‘It wasn’t a cupboard. It was a wardrobe,’ corrects Lily, and then turns her attentions to Tom. ‘Tom?’

‘Yes, Lily?’

‘Do you have a wife?’

‘No, Lily I don’t.’

‘I think that’s sad.’

‘Do you know what, Lily? So do I,’ agrees Tom.

‘You should marry Mummy!’ Rachel looks at Tom and can see the trace of a blush in his cheeks.

‘Lily, stop tormenting poor Tom.’

‘Just for today. You could get divorced before Daddy gets home.’

Rachel laughs. ‘Well, romantic as that all sounds, I think we should maybe let Tom choose his own wife, don’t you?’

‘OK,’ agrees Lily earnestly. ‘Tom? Do you want to marry my mum?’

Tom looks like a frightened rabbit. ‘Erm, well, I don’t know.’

‘Because my mum is actually quite pretty when she brushes her hair and puts on make-up. What does Daddy say? Oh yes: “She scrubs up quite well”.’

Rachel feels sorry for Tom but the wicked side of her wants to see how he will react.

‘Well, your Mum is –’

‘Yes?’

‘Obviously very beautiful.’ Tom looks at the floor, avoiding Rachel’s gaze.

‘Correct!’ shouts Lily delighted. ‘Mum? Can we go to the park now? I’m bored.’

Rachel is momentarily caught off guard by Tom’s comment. It’s as if she’s just uncovered a secret truth. ‘Erm the park? No, sorry darling. Mummy’s got too many jobs to do and I’ve got to pack.’

‘Oh, are you off somewhere?’ asks Tom.

‘Yes. Scotland. You know, casing the joint’

‘Oh, so you are moving then?’ He sounds disappointed.

‘Not necessarily. We just need to go and check it all out. Why, will you miss us?’

Tom looks at her now and smiles. ‘Of course. Who will tease me mercilessly about my snail patrol if you’re not around? So, kids! Do you fancy coming to the park with your Uncle Tom?’

‘Yeeeeees!’ shout Lily and Alfie together.

‘That’s all right. isn’t it? I can take them for an hour or so. Get them out of your hair?’

‘Are you sure? It’s not much of a way to spend your day’s holiday.’

‘Call it payback for when I gatecrashed your weekend with Steve.’ Tom gets up and helps Alfie with his shoes.

Rachel follows them to the door. ‘Well, thank you. It’s very kind of you.’ She touches Tom on the arm and he turns to face her. There is a second when neither of them knows what to say and then Lily grabs his hand.

‘OK, you two, say bye bye to Mummy!’

‘Have fun and thanks, Tom.’ She watches them disappear up the road and then returns to her chores feeling a little bit happier with the world.

Emma doesn’t see Ella again until lunchtime and is getting the distinct feeling that her friend is avoiding her. She is just leaving the loos when Ella comes in. She sees a flicker of panic pass over her friend’s face.

‘It’s all right. I’m just leaving,’ says Emma with teenage petulance.

‘Oh, are you OK?’

‘What do you think, Ella? I mean my best friend keeps avoiding me, and I know there’s something up, but she doesn’t seem to want to tell me, so no, I wouldn’t say I was OK!’

Ella looks crestfallen. ‘OK, OK. I’m sorry. It’s just that it’s a bit complicated.’

‘Oh is it?’ says Emma, assuming she’s referring to Joel. ‘How so?’

‘I don’t think I’m ready to talk about it yet.’

‘I see.’

At that moment, the door swings open and Miranda sweeps in. ‘Ah, my favourite editors! I’m not intruding, am I?’ Emma mutters shaking her head and Ella smiles weakly. ‘My, my, do I detect a spat? Can’t have that. No fighting in the ranks, eh?’

‘It’s nothing, Miranda. Really,’ says Ella quickly.

‘Splendid, that’s the spirit. See you both later then.’

Emma heads for the door without a backward glance. When she reaches the lifts, she senses Ella at her side.

‘What’s this all about, Emma?’

‘You tell me, Ella.’

‘I don’t know why you’re so cross with me. I’ve just got some stuff going on that I need to sort out, but I can’t tell you what it is, OK?’

The lift doors open. Emma stomps through the door and turns on her friend.

‘That’s fine, Ella, just fine. Send me a postcard when you remember who your real friends are, eh?’ The lift doors close and Emma glimpses Ella’s hurt face before she turns away.

‘So I’ve decided to kill off Stella in the first chapter.’

‘Mhhmm,’ says Emma.

‘And take my book to another publisher.’

‘Great, great. Sorry – what?’

‘Emma, are you OK?’

‘OK? Of course I’m OK.’ She looks at Richard’s face. ‘Sorry, I haven’t been listening, have I?’

‘Not so far. Bad day?’

‘There’s just a lot going on. Sorry.’ She draws her finger and forefinger down in front of her face as if she’s pulling on a mask. ‘There, professional face now fully engaged.’

‘Oh, don’t be silly. I think it’s good that we’re like this.’

‘Oh yes and how are we?’

‘Well, Miss Darcy, I like your honest, straightforward ways. You’re very easy to be around and you understand me, I think. Very few people do.’

Emma smiles. Richard reaches over and touches her arm. ‘You know you’re very good for me, Emma.’

‘Oh yes?’

‘Yes. I think you bring out the best in me.’

Emma discreetly pulls away her arm and pats his hand. ‘Well, I am very glad and now shall we talk about this rewrite?’

‘Oh, plenty of time for that. How are the wedding plans?’

‘Don’t ask. My godmother and mother are being control freaks and my fiancé seems to have lost interest.’

‘Well more fool him. He needs to realise how lucky he is.’

Emma is suddenly aware of someone standing by her side. She turns expecting it to be David, the café owner, who has been extremely attentive today and made gestures of approval behind Richard’s head. So she is mortified to see Martin with his arms folded, looking slightly cross.

‘Martin! What are you doing sneaking up on people like that and how did you know I was here?’

‘I was hoping to take my fiancée to lunch actually. Your receptionist told me where you were.’ Emma curses Lauren’s helpfulness. ‘Why are you discussing me with a stranger?’

Richard stands up to address Martin. ‘I’m so sorry. I don’t think we’ve been introduced. I’m Richard Bennett,’ he says holding out his hand.

Martin surveys him with narrowed eyes but doesn’t take his hand. He turns back to Emma. ‘I was trying to make amends for last night but I’m wondering why I bothered.’

‘Martin, I’m working.’

‘Why are you discussing our wedding then? And for your information, pal,’ says Martin jabbing a finger back towards Richard, ‘I do know how lucky I am, thanks.’

Richard reaches for his jacket. ‘Look, I feel as if I’m intruding and I’m sorry if I offended you, Martin. Far be it from me to interfere in domestic spats. I’ll give you a call after the weekend, Emma, OK?’

‘Richard, you don’t have to go. Martin, apologise!’

Martin sits down in Richard’s vacated chair and folds his arms. ‘I’ve got nothing to apologise for.’

Richard holds up his hands in a conciliatory gesture. ‘Emma, it’s fine. I’ll speak to you soon,’ he says, disappearing out of the door.

Emma contemplates running after him but realises how this will look. Instead she glares at her fiancé. ‘What was all that about?’

‘You tell me.’

‘OK, I’m sorry, I was talking out of turn. I’m just frustrated that you’re never around to discuss stuff.’

‘Oh fine, well that’s great, isn’t it? The first sign of trouble and you go running off to your new author.’

‘And what about you? Charging in like some stag about to fight for his mate.’

‘At least it shows I care.’

‘Yes, in a bloody alpha-male “hands off my woman” kind of way.’