The Importance of Being Emma (41 page)

Her next question took me even more aback. ‘What’s that big white thing stuck in the middle of a pond, somewhere in India?’

I hazarded a guess. ‘The Taj Mahal?’

‘
That’s it, Mum’s always wanted to sit on that bench where Princess Di sat. Now at least I can send her a photo of me doing it.’

I was about to explain that the Taj Mahal was over a thousand kilometres from Mumbai and I wasn’t sure there’d be time to visit it, when she came out with the question I had been expecting. ‘What shall I tell Emma?’

‘
As little as possible,’ I said firmly. ‘She’ll only try to talk you out of the whole thing, that’s why it’s got to be a secret. Just tell her you’ve had the offer of a holiday out of the blue, all expenses paid, too good to miss and so on. It’s the truth, isn’t it? If she kicks up a fuss and says she needs you in the office, let me know immediately. But, as you’re a temp, there shouldn’t be a problem, the agency can always send someone else to do your job.’

She nodded eagerly. ‘Oh Mark, you’re brilliant, you think of friggin’ everything.’

‘
I’ll finalise the travel arrangements and phone you tomorrow,’ I went on, opening the door into the hall. ‘Remember, not a word to anyone.’

As soon as I saw Churchill standing there with Emma, I knew India wasn’t too far away. When I took the whisky into the drawing room, they were already in each other’s arms; nothing passionate, just being close. Over the top of her head, Churchill caught my eye and smirked, as if he could see right through my air of indifference.

Just three days to go. Then there’d be no more need to pretend.

~~EMMA~~

After Flynn had poured himself a large whisky, I suggested letting Kate and Tom know he’d arrived. We found them in the conservatory, next to George and Harriet. Gusty was behind a table at one end of the room, stirring something in a pan over a little primus stove, with Philip hovering devotedly beside her. Mark was nowhere to be seen; neither was Saffron.

‘
I’m using white chocolate, but it needs to be
excellent
quality.’ Gusty gave a supercilious smile. ‘Philip thought the cheap stuff would do, he can be so half-witted at times. Pass me the platter, Philip – no, no, that’s a bowl, I said the
platter
.’

‘
You know who she reminds me of?’ Tom said, with a chuckle. ‘Fanny Cradock, bossing Johnnie about in those old TV clips. Ah, watch out, I think she’s looking round for her next victim.’

Fortunately, Gusty’s beady gaze got no further than David Perry. ‘
Doctor
Perry, I’m sure you’ll be an expert at this, it’s quite a delicate
operation
and needs a steady hand!’

As David stepped forward apprehensively, Kate said under her breath, ‘For heaven’s sake, doesn’t she know he’s a GP, not a surgeon?’

‘
You take a strawberry and hold it by the stalk – so,’ Gusty continued. ‘Then you dip it into the melted chocolate, wave it about to cool and put it on the platter like this. Strawberries in snow, you see?’ She pretended not to notice the spattering of white chocolate across the pristine slate-grey Amtico tiles. ‘You try this one, David. Anyone else like a turn?’

Batty darted to the table and picked up two strawberries at once. She was about to dip them into the chocolate when she hiccupped and promptly dropped them. She then staggered into Philip, causing him to lurch sideways and squash the fruit to a gooey pulp with his heel.

Kate groaned. ‘I think Mary’s had too much to drink. Flynn, you’re nearest, bring her over here before she gets hurt, that floor looks lethal.’

Flynn frowned. ‘Isn’t her niece looking after her?’

Kate shook her head. ‘Jane went home about ten minutes ago. She felt ill, but she insisted she was OK to drive and we said we’d give Mary a lift later.’

As Flynn hesitated, Saffron and Mark arrived and swung into action. Saffron thrust a roll of kitchen towel at Philip and a mop and bucket at Gusty, while Mark led a flustered Batty to a chair. I saw Flynn fidget with his mobile and leave the room, presumably to make a call away from the general chaos.

Meanwhile, Saffron raised her delicately sculptured eyebrows in distaste and surveyed the scene in her once-immaculate conservatory. ‘Now you two can start clearing up this mess.’

Gusty opened her mouth to object, but Saffron silenced her with one Medusa-like stare and went on, ‘After that, there’s plenty to do in the kitchen. I’ll see you get the going rate for your work.’ Her voice hardened. ‘Provided it’s up to my standards, of course. Through here, everyone.’ And she swept majestically into the drawing room.

As we all trooped after her, I heard Mark say to Batty, ‘I’ll get your coat and take you home – that’s if no one’s blocked the Mercedes in.’

I turned to face him. ‘I have, I’m afraid. I’ll move my car right now.’ I added irritably, ‘I didn’t expect you’d be going anywhere tonight.’

‘
Neither did I.’ He gave an apologetic grin. ‘Although if you’re leaving soon, could
you
drop Mary off? That would help me out, I may need to calm things down here.’

This was my chance to find out if he and Harriet … I took a deep breath. ‘I’m supposed to be taking Harriet home – unless you have other plans for her?’

He paused and there was no mistaking the flicker of guilt in his eyes. No mistaking at all. I blinked back the tears and schooled my expression into one of total disinterest.

Another grin, far more contrived than the previous one. ‘Plans? Absolutely not.’ I didn’t believe him for one moment; he would simply be waiting for a less public opportunity to make his move. He continued, ‘I’ll let her know you’re about to leave. And – Emma?’

‘
Yes?’

‘
Drive carefully, there’s a heavy frost out there.’

Of course, he wouldn’t want anything to happen to his precious Harriet, would he?

Within fifteen minutes, I was driving away from Donwell Abbey as fast as the frost would allow. Since Harriet’s house was on the way to Batty’s, it would have looked odd if I’d not dropped her off first – but that meant I couldn’t find out what Mark had asked her. I reasoned that she probably wouldn’t have told me anyway; there was a vacant, dreamy look about her that didn’t bode well for getting any work done tomorrow.

After dropping Harriet off, I drove into Highbury and parked outside Batty’s house. As I was helping her up the path, a red Jaguar appeared and screeched to a halt behind my car.

Batty twisted round and said in bewilderment, ‘It’s Jane, where’s she been, I thought she was going straight home.’ Then, as Jane got out, ‘Are you all right, dear?’

Jane glanced over, her face clearly visible under the streetlight. ‘I’m fine,’ she muttered. But she was pinched and drawn and all the signs were that she’d been sobbing her heart out.

I steered Batty firmly towards her front door before she noticed that anything was wrong. ‘Come inside and put the kettle on, I’m sure Jane would love a nice cup of tea.’

‘
So thoughtful,’ she twittered. ‘But let’s get Jane inside first, it’s very cold.’

I turned to Jane, racking my brains for a good reason to speak to her alone. ‘By the way, I’ve got some project stuff in my car that I need your view on. I didn’t like to bother you when you were ill, but as I’m here … ’

‘
OK, I’ll have a quick look,’ she said. ‘I’m sure it won’t take more than five minutes.’

‘
Don’t be any longer than that,’ Batty put in. ‘I’ll make you a Horlicks, or maybe some of Mother’s Complan, you need building up.’

When I returned to my car, Jane was huddled in the passenger seat. She eyed me suspiciously as I got in.

‘
I gather there is no project stuff – you just wanted a private chat?’

‘
Correct.’ I hesitated. ‘You don’t have to tell me anything, but it’s obvious you’re upset and I wondered if I could help.’ Silence; I tried again. ‘You left Donwell Abbey rather suddenly – was it something there that upset you?’

That produced a response, rather too glib for my liking. ‘It was Gusty, she’s fixed up an interview for me in Bristol next Monday. If I’ve told her once, I’ve told her a hundred times – I’m not interested. But she doesn’t take no for an answer.’

‘
Understatement of the year,’ I said, giving her an appraising look. ‘There’s more to it than that, though, isn’t there? I can imagine Gusty making you annoyed, but not upset. What – or who – has had you in tears?’

She pursed her lips. ‘OK, let’s just say I’m having relationship problems and leave it at that.’

So it was some furtive phone call with Dan Dixon that had made her cry. Unless … what if she actually meant Mark? Maybe he was wrong and she was hopelessly in love with him. Weird to think I might have that in common with her. And weird to think he could have had either of us, yet he’d chosen Harriet.

I let out a long breath. ‘Join the club. I used to think I was an expert, but now … I’ve had two serious relationships and I managed each of them like a project. You know, see it through to completion in an organised way, evaluate the learnings and all that crap. Now I realise that was because I always engaged brain rather than heart.’

She gave a faint smile. ‘You don’t get your brain broken, do you? People talk about brain ache, which suggests some sort of minor discomfort that you recover from fairly quickly. But a heart
breaks
– much more catastrophic.’

Another silence, this time almost companionable.

‘
When do you think you’ll be back at work?’ I said, at last.

‘
Would you mind if I stayed off until Monday? It’s not that I’m too ill to work, I’ve been doing some at home. It’s just – well, Aunt Mary’s a lovely person, but I’m a bit fragile at the moment, I need some space. If I come into the office, she’ll fuss round me all day and I’ll lose it with her, I really will.’

For once in my life, I felt I could come to respect Jane Fairfax. With time and a following wind, of course.

~~MARK~~

The rest of the week was full of meetings with Father and the other directors. In between, I made all the remaining arrangements for India, passed on the relevant medical information to Harriet and Rob and started my packing.

And then it was Saturday, the day of my farewell dinner at the Box Hill Restaurant. I drove there alone an hour ahead of my guests. John was bringing the rest of the family along later and Father had offered to drive the Mercedes home at the end of the evening, so that I could indulge in a few celebratory drinks. Celebratory drinks? More like drowning my sorrows. All week I’d kept my despair at bay – but only just. Now I could feel it looming like a thundercloud.

I was determined nothing would ruin tonight, however; not even my own masochistic tendencies. And yet, as I arrived at Box Hill and was shown into the large lounge area, I couldn’t help hoping that Emma would be impressed by its ambience. Rough-cast cream walls and exposed black beams blended surprisingly well with chunky chocolate-leather armchairs, ethnic rugs and modern artwork. The heavy burnt-orange curtains had been left open and the soft glow of the lights was reflected in the dark glass, so that the room seemed doubly warm and welcoming. I sat down beside the log fire, ordered a gin and tonic and willed myself to relax.

I hadn’t seen or spoken to Emma since the party at Donwell. Within the hour, however, she’d be here and I’d feel the beat of my heart quicken at the very sight of her … Strange how you live for the next twist of the knife.

The waiter came to see if I wanted another drink and I took the opportunity to check tonight’s bookings. It had just occurred to me that, by some awful coincidence or contrivance, Gusty might turn up. I heaved a sigh of relief when he announced there was nothing under the name of Elton or Hawkins.

Another gin and tonic later, I was still on my own and getting more and more dejected. What if my plans for Harriet and Rob didn’t work out? I’d have raised their expectations and disrupted their lives for nothing. And what if things had changed on the business front in India, even in such a short time? I’d tried to protect our supply chain from four thousand miles away, and I had some good local contacts to help me; but people could be fickle, particularly in a developing market. Most of all, what if I couldn’t handle seeing Emma tonight? Especially with
him
? I’d invited him because I’d been brought up to do the right thing, even when it hurt like hell.

I let out a long, ragged breath. Perhaps the only solution was to drink until I was incapable of causing GBH.

The arrival of Steve and my other good friend Ben, along with their wives, forced me to pull myself together. They were soon followed by the Perrys, who’d brought Mary and Jane; and John, with Izzy, Father, Saffron and my nephews Harry and James. I’d invited all the children, but Izzy didn’t approve of the younger ones eating out, as their digestive systems were ‘still so delicate’. I had to smile; John obviously hadn’t told her about the Chicken McNuggets Bella wolfed down when he took her to see the latest Disney film over Christmas.

Despite all these distractions, I knew the moment Emma entered the room. I turned round and there she was, standing just inside the door, in the blue dress she’d worn at Ashridge – the night we’d first kissed, the night before Churchill came on the scene. The dress didn’t fit quite as well as I remembered, as though she’d lost a bit of weight, and she looked tired. I hoped it wasn’t sleepless nights over Churchill; the bastard wasn’t worth it.