The Importance of Being Emma (32 page)

‘
It’s basically gin, Henry. It makes you forget all your inhibitions – or, in your case, your ailments. If you drink enough of it, you’ll forget them permanently. But I wouldn’t advise it. Drink never solved anyone’s problems, did it?’

He looked horrified. ‘You mean I’ve been in a – a drunken stupor all night? That’s with Emma being at Forbury Manor, you know. If she’d been here, this would never have happened.’

‘
And neither would certain other things,’ I muttered under my breath. In a louder voice, I said, ‘Would you mind giving this to her?’

He gave me a quizzical look as I handed him the envelope.

‘
It’s just some pointers from our mentoring discussions, as a sort of wrap-up now that I’ve switched to Jane,’ I went on, knowing that he wouldn’t open it and discover I was lying.

‘
Oh yes,’ he said vaguely. ‘Do you know, I don’t think I’ve told Emma about that yet. I meant to, but I must have forgotten. I’ll do it as soon as she gets here. She shouldn’t be long, she’s just rung to say she’s on her way. Come in and I’ll make you a coffee, then we can both tell her about the mentoring. Might be better that way, mightn’t it?’

I shook my head. ‘Sorry, Henry, must dash. And thank you for last night, it was a really good do.’ I felt a right heel; it was like thanking him for the opportunity to sleep with his daughter. ‘I’ll be able to reciprocate in a week’s time,’ I added, ‘when you come to the Donwell Organics party.’

He smiled. ‘It’ll be a nice little family outing with Isabella and Emma there too.’

I managed to smile back, although I doubted that Emma would want to come; not now. ‘That reminds me, I’d better book a babysitter. John and Izzy and the kids are all staying at Donwell Abbey that weekend.’

And with that I said goodbye and hurried off. There was no way I was going to risk bumping into Emma while my feelings were still so raw. I’d need all the time I could get to prepare for our next meeting.

~~EMMA~~

Dad dropped two bombshells almost as soon as I walked through the door.

‘
Lovely to see you back safely, darling. You’ve just missed Mark.’

Bombshell number one. I put down my overnight bag and said, as calmly as I could, ‘What did he want?’

‘
To leave this for you.’ He held out a crisp white envelope with the Forbury Manor logo in the top left-hand corner and my name scrawled across the middle. My fingers trembled as I took it.

‘
It’s about the mentoring,’ said Dad.

‘
Mentoring?’

‘
Yes, a sort of wrap-up, since he’s going to be mentoring Jane in future.’

Bombshell number two. I knew he wouldn’t be mentoring me any more, but …

Dad went on, ‘He discussed it with me and, in the circumstances, we decided it was for the best.’

‘
What – what circumstances?’ I felt myself go cold. Surely he wouldn’t have told Dad about last night?

‘
Well, he’s always been a great fan of hers, hasn’t he?’ Dad said cheerfully. ‘And he seems to think she’ll be more responsive than you, at the moment anyway. Benefit more from his expertise, that sort of thing.’

All at once I was back in the hotel bedroom shouting, ‘Wasn’t I just a substitute for Tamara?’ And every word of his reply was branded on my memory: ‘Yes, you were. Only not as good.’

Oh, I got the message all right. He may still be getting over Tamara but, when he did finally move on, it would be to Jane Fairfax. Such a deserving cause, so much more responsive than me to his bloody expertise! The mentoring would be a front for getting time alone together without raising too many eyebrows; no doubt he’d be just as unprofessional with her as he’d been with me, as soon as he got the chance …

Dad was eyeing me anxiously. ‘You do understand, don’t you, darling? And Jane’s only here for a short while, whereas you can have mentoring any time.’

I gave him a bright smile. ‘Of course I understand. Let me just take my things up to my room, then I’ll come and have breakfast with you. Put the kettle on, please, I’m gasping for a coffee.’

He went into the kitchen while I hurried upstairs. As soon as I reached my room, I sank onto the bed and ripped open the envelope.

The letter was very short and to the point.

‘
Whoever else may have to be involved’. In other words, Jane.

Forget what happened? Was it that easy to contract amnesia? Every time we met, I’d think of what he looked like naked. Every time we kissed at family gatherings, I’d be reminded of other kisses, far less platonic. Every time I saw his hands move, I’d remember exactly what they were capable of …

It was obvious that he thought of last night as a big mistake, just two sex-starved people who’d had too much to drink. But he was being his usual responsible self, ever mindful of the consequences of his actions.

If I was pregnant, I certainly wouldn’t be going to him and Jane ‘to discuss the situation sensibly’.

I’d handle it all by myself, whether he liked it or not.

~~MARK~~

On Monday I took Jane out for lunch and another mentoring meeting. It went quite well until we touched on more personal matters.

I’d been meaning to ask her about the Highbury Foods Christmas party and saw my chance when she made an apology for her poor appetite.

‘
You didn’t eat much on Saturday night, either,’ I said casually. ‘And what happened to you later on? I didn’t see you again after our dance.’

She lowered her gaze. ‘I felt rather ill, so I went upstairs to lie down for a bit. I must have fallen asleep.’

‘
Ill? What was the matter?’

‘
Indigestion probably. And I was tired.’

‘
You seem to be generally off colour at the moment. Mary’s quite worried about you.’ I paused. ‘I don’t want to intrude, but I’m happy to listen if you’ve got a problem and you need to talk it through.’

She stiffened. ‘That’s kind of you, but really I’m fine.’

‘
The offer’s always there if you need it.’

‘
Thank you, but there’s absolutely nothing wrong. Now, did you want to look at my focus group results analysis and see if I’ve missed anything?’

I sighed and did as she suggested, reflecting that, if I ever needed to be mentored in stonewalling techniques, I’d know exactly who to turn to.

~~EMMA~~

By half past nine on Thursday morning, Harriet still hadn’t turned up for work. Her mobile was switched off and I was just about to drive over to her house in case she’d overslept, when she burst into my room. She was a terrible sight: hair in disarray, mascara running, tights laddered, white fake leather coat stained and torn.

I jumped up from my desk. ‘Whatever’s wrong?’

‘
Friggin’ Goths – ’ She glanced over at Jane. ‘Sorry, no offence.’

Jane looked understandably baffled.

‘
Have a seat.’ I took Harriet’s arm and guided her to the nearest chair. ‘Would you like a cup of tea?’

‘
Christ no, but I could friggin’ kill for a bottle of Lambrini.’

Lambrini? I dreaded to think what sort of dubious plonk she wanted to pour down her throat. My lips tightened; it was as though she’d suddenly reverted to Late Neanderthal Chavette. The contrast with the image I wanted her to project for Harriet’s Secret Recipes couldn’t have been more marked.

‘
Calm down,’ I said sternly, ‘and tell me what happened.’

She perched on the edge of the chair and started shredding the leaves of the yucca next to her. ‘I was on my way to work, along the high street, not through Little Bassington.’ She gave me a meaningful look, then went on, ‘I stopped at the lights and some Goths walked past. I mean, a bunch of Goths in broad daylight in the middle of Highbury! Where were the friggin’ police?’

I sighed. ‘Please don’t keep using the word “frigging”, it’s not very nice. And stop tormenting that poor plant.’ I hastily removed it from her clutches.

‘
Sorry, Emma, it’s just I’m traumi – traumicised – ’

‘
Tagged me, they put a sticker saying “your car is shit” – sorry, “your car is poo” – on my windscreen.’

‘
Oh, that’s horrible. But how did you get into such a mess? Did they turn on you after they’d, um, tagged you?’

She giggled. ‘Actually,
I
went for
them
. I got really stuck into the biggest one, went for her piercings, you just grab and twist – like that!’ She gave a demonstration that made me wince. ‘Then Flynn Churchill turned up. Between us we could’ve hammered them, but he went all soft. Started apologising for me, told them I was under great pressure at work ’cos I was having a relationship with my lemo boss and – ’

‘
Hang on,’ I cut in, ‘why did he call me a lemur?’

More giggles. ‘Lemo, it’s short for lesbian emo. You must know what a lesbian is, and emo’s someone who’s emotional, innit?’

Oh fantastic, hadn’t he told me my ‘secret’ was safe with him?

‘
It’s not true,’ I said, indignantly. ‘It was all a misunderstanding, and I wasn’t that emotional – at least, not in front of him.’

Fortunately, Harriet wasn’t the inquiring sort. ‘I’m sure he didn’t mean it, Emma, it was just something to say. And it worked, the friggin’ Goths just walked off.’

I pulled myself together as I realised people wouldn’t take Flynn’s comment seriously. And a new thought was taking root in the fertile soil of my mind …

‘
But how romantic, Flynn riding to your rescue like that.’ I gave a knowing little smile.

She looked at me blankly. ‘He wasn’t riding, he was walking.’

‘
Figure of speech, Harriet. Although I wonder what he was doing in Highbury at that time of the morning? Kate says he’s never usually up before ten.’ I added with a laugh, ‘Obviously looking for a damsel in distress.’

Just then, a stony-faced Jane scraped back her chair, gathered a few papers together and stalked out of the office, presumably to find somewhere less distracting. I didn’t pay much attention; I was too busy visualising how appealing Harriet must have looked as she grappled with the Goths. Vulnerable yet feisty, a combination that would be irresistible to most men – and I had no reason to believe Flynn was an exception. Not that I’d make the same mistake again and put unsuitable ideas into Harriet’s head; but there was no harm in pointing out the facts, was there?

‘
A man likes a woman with spirit,’ I told her, ‘but he also likes to come to her rescue once in a while. It does his ego no end of good.’

A dreamy look came into her eyes. ‘I could get used to being rescued, by one geezer in particular.’

I was just congratulating myself on this new turn of events when I noticed the time. ‘Right, we’ve got lots to do this morning. Why don’t you go and tidy yourself up? Here’s a new pair of tights, I always keep one in my drawer – ’

That was as far as I got. Into my office swept Gusty, resplendent in a bright yellow jumpsuit which reminded me of rather lumpy custard. Philip followed dutifully at her heels, his matching yellow shirt and tie providing a startling contrast with his usual sober suit.

The timing was most unfortunate. There we were, four of us crammed into one little room: Philip, the woman who was now dominating his life, the woman he’d wanted in his life and the woman who’d fantasised about it. No wonder he wore the expression of a man with a particularly friendly ferret negotiating his nether regions.

‘
Yes?’ I said shortly. ‘What can I do for you?’

Gusty gave a disparaging sniff. ‘It’s not what you can do for us, Emmurrr, it’s what we can do for Jane. Isn’t she here? Naughty girl, she knew we were coming to see her at ten o’clock. Never mind, she can’t have gone far, I’ll sit here and wait for her. Pipkin, get me a coffee.’

‘
Of course, babe.’ Philip scuttled out of the office, obviously glad to escape.

I rounded on Gusty. ‘You can’t stay here, we’re busy. You’ll have to go and wait in Philip’s room.’

She ignored me, sat down and glanced at some papers Jane had left on the table. ‘Just as I thought,’ she mused. ‘This sort of stuff is child’s play to someone like Jane. She doesn’t know it yet, but I’ve got her a much better job. Actually, it was my sister who clinched it, she pulled a few strings at a client company, Sucklings of Bristol. You must have heard of them, big in organic meat products.’

‘
No, I haven’t,’ I said, with a scowl, ‘and I’d like you to go – ’

She cut in with, ‘I’ve almost persuaded Marrrk to talk to them about a partnership. You know,
organic
meats and Donwell
Organics
, there must be huge business potential.’