The Importance of Being Emma (24 page)

I gave a brittle smile. ‘Looks like you’re hungry, mustn’t keep you from your tea.’ With that, I steered Harriet firmly over to her car. By the time she’d found her keys, dropped them in a puddle and fished them out again, the lovebirds were safely inside Tilly’s.

Harriet frowned as she unlocked her car. ‘That’s a funny name – Gutsy.’

‘
Gusty. It’s short for Augusta.’

‘
He’s crazy about her.’

‘
Looks like it, although I really can’t understand what he sees in her, compared to you – or me.’

‘
They’re obviously at it like rabbits.’

‘
Lucky them. Go for it while you have the friggin’ chance, that’s what I say.’ She let out a long noisy sigh and got into the car. ‘Thanks for the tea, see you Monday.’

She turned the key in the ignition, revved up the engine, fumbled through various gears and drove off, narrowly missing my foot.

I stood in the middle of the car park, deep in thought. ‘Go for it while you have the frigging chance.’ Such a simple philosophy.

Well, I felt sure I had a chance with Flynn. And I’d be going for it – come hell, high water or Mark Knightley.

Chapter Eight

~~MARK~~

The evening at Randalls was just about tolerable, until Churchill started playing his little games.

The seating arrangements didn’t help. He and I were directly opposite each other, which made him difficult to ignore. And I found it even harder to ignore Emma, who was next to him. Especially in that dress, or what there was of it.

I had to admit that the food was good, although I couldn’t believe Churchill had made do with what Kate had in her kitchen. On the other hand, knowing Kate, she’d have an impressive range of ingredients permanently in the fridge and plenty more in the freezer, neatly labelled no doubt. Whatever the truth of the matter, he’d managed to produce smoked salmon pâté, orange-glazed roast lamb and a rum-soaked pineapple cake, all washed down with a few bottles of Château Margaux 1959 from Tom’s antique wine cellar.

Henry, meanwhile, spooned his way through three courses of orangey-yellow mush. I suspected this was simply a purée of what we were eating, but Churchill gave him some bullshit about it being carrots and saffron specially blended with artichoke, which the Aborigines swore by for improving the digestion. Everyone greeted this pronouncement with oohs and ahs of wonder – except me. Anyway, Henry seemed happy enough; or maybe he was too distracted by Mary to notice what he was eating.

‘
Dave Ford’s been so kind,’ Mary said, as soon as there was a lull in the conversation. ‘He wouldn’t take any money today for towing my car, said he’d just add it on to my bill, which is very considerate of him when you remember his wife’s … But unfortunately he thinks my big end’s gone, or was it my cylinder head gasket?’

Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Churchill whisper something in Emma’s ear and send her off into a fit of the giggles.

Mary continued, ‘Either way, he says it’s going to be
very
expensive and he might have to keep the car for three weeks, with all the other work he’s … If there was only me to think about, I’d just hop on my bike – ’

‘
Your bike?’ Henry leaned forward, his eyes wide with horror. ‘You’d be mown down by a juggernaut in no time, especially with the nights drawing in.’

‘
No need to worry, Henry, I won’t even consider it because dear Jane needs to get to work as well. Although I do believe we’ve still got that old bike of hers … ’ She tittered. ‘She was quite the demon racer at one time, left all the children round here way behind – don’t you remember, Emma?’

Emma’s face darkened and I couldn’t resist saying in a loud aside to Kate beside me, ‘Emma was always going to take her cycling proficiency test but she never put in the hours, did she, after her initial burst of enthusiasm?’

Henry frowned. ‘I’d offer you both a lift with Emma and me, but I’m afraid our morning routine’s rather unpredictable at the moment. Porridge for breakfast, you know,’ he added, as if that explained everything.

Mary said hesitantly, ‘I don’t suppose there’s a spare company car? Of course, I need an automatic, I never learned to drive a manual … Just a thought, Henry.’

‘
I’ll have a word with Terry,’ Henry said doubtfully, ‘but I don’t think we’ve got many automatics. Have you looked into hiring something?’

She coloured. ‘Of course, but you see it’s a lot of money and Mother’s got a little problem with her … So she may need to have an operation privately, there’s such a long waiting list with the National Health … Never mind,’ she added, with a sigh, ‘I’m sure Jack Thomas will do me a special price for a taxi there and back each day, and we always have
such
a nice chat.’

Once again, Churchill whispered something to make Emma laugh.

It was time to bring this particular subject to a close. ‘I’ll give you and Jane a lift to work and back,’ I said firmly, ‘for as long as you need.’

She gave a squeal, half delight, half dismay. ‘But it’s too much out of your way and – ’

‘
No “buts”. I’ll be outside your house at half past eight on Monday morning.’

Her relief was evident. ‘Thank you, Mark. Always so kind, just like your father.’

It was over coffee that I really detected Churchill’s Machiavellian tendencies at work. He presented each of us with what he called his ‘special fortune cookie’, a small biscuit wrapped in a piece of tissue-like paper, and instructed us not to open it until we were told.

‘
Dad and Kate first, I think,’ he said. ‘And read them out, please. There’s a common theme and I’ve got a prize for the person who guesses what it is.’

Tom opened his little parcel, wolfed down the biscuit and chuckled to himself as he read the piece of paper. ‘This is an old one, Flynn, I’m surprised you’ve heard of it. Listen, everyone: “Blue moon, you saw me standing alone, without a dream in my heart, without a love of my own.” What’s yours, Kate?’

Kate laughed. ‘Same song, but a different line: “And then suddenly appeared before me, the only one my arms could ever hold.” I can even quote the rest: “I heard somebody whisper, ‘Please adore me’, and when I looked the moon had turned to gold.” One of my all-time favourites.’ She smiled warmly at Flynn. ‘You can’t possibly have known that, though.’

Churchill grinned back. ‘You’re right, I didn’t. I chose it because it reminded me of you two.’

‘
Lovely thought,’ Kate said.

‘
Much appreciated, son,’ Tom added.

I hadn’t heard ‘Blue Moon’ for years and the lyrics brought me up short. I glanced at Emma, willing her to look in my direction, but she was gazing affectionately at Tom and Kate. Not at Churchill, thank God; at least, not yet.

‘
Jane, you’re next.’

At Churchill’s command, Jane started and went pink. ‘Do I have to?’

For once, she seemed uncomfortable in the spotlight; I stared at her, wondered what was going on behind those dark expressionless eyes.

‘
I forgot to mention that there’s a forfeit,’ Churchill said briskly. ‘Anyone who objects has to perform the song, not just say the words. So be warned.’

‘
Jane’s got a wonderful voice,’ Mary put in. ‘People are always asking her to … Who was that man, Jane, who begged you to sing at his wedding? Oh, silly me! It was Charlotte’s husband, wasn’t it, Dan Thingummy-Bob.’

Emma leaned forward. ‘What did you sing for Dan – and Charlotte, of course?’ Her sudden interest made me suspicious; was she winding Jane up about something?

Jane went an even deeper shade of pink. ‘It was “The Power of Love”.’

Emma smirked. ‘Ah yes, “’Cause I am your lady and you are my man, whenever you reach for me I’ll do all that I can” – is that the one?’

‘
I believe so.’

‘
Come on,’ Churchill said, ‘read out your fortune cookie before I give you a forfeit.’

Jane hesitated, then slowly unfolded her piece of paper. ‘It says “I’m hopelessly devoted to” followed by a question mark.’ She added coldly, ‘I’ve no idea what it means.’

‘
Haven’t you?’ Churchill countered. ‘I’ll move on to Emma, then.’

I watched Emma closely as she unwrapped her biscuit and read her words in silence. A slow, sweet smile spread across her face, and my heart sank. ‘Mine says “You’re the one that I want”.’ She looked at Churchill. ‘I think I know what the common theme is now, but I’m not a hundred percent sure, so I’d better wait.’ She giggled, then took a small bite out of her biscuit and closed her eyes. ‘Mmmm, ratafia – absolutely delicious. Did you make these yourself?’

‘
Of course,’ Churchill said smoothly. ‘Your turn, Mary.’

‘
So exciting, let me just get my reading glasses, I wonder where I put my handbag? Oh, thank you, Tom … Good gracious, these are Mother’s, I must have picked up the wrong ones when I … Mark, would you? So kind.’

I took Mary’s piece of paper and scanned it quickly; the words seemed harmless enough, and vaguely familiar. I handed the paper back to her. ‘It says: “This car is automatic, it’s systematic, it’s hydromatic.” Very topical.’

‘
Automatic … systematic … hydromatic … It does sound like my car, doesn’t it? I don’t
think
mine’s a hydromatic, but it might be … Dave will know, I’ll check with him when I … You said they were all songs, Flynn, but what’s the common theme? Blue moon, hopelessly devoted, the one that I want and now a car – let’s see yours, Mark, that might help.’

Churchill nodded at me. ‘Go ahead.’

I opened up the paper, removed the biscuit in order to read the words – and felt the colour drain from my face.

How could the bastard know? How
could
he?

‘
Something the matter?’ Mary said, anxiously.

With an effort, I brought myself under control. He couldn’t know how I felt about Emma, because I hadn’t told anyone, not even her. He must have chosen these words by accident …

I cleared my throat. ‘Not at all, I’m just trying to place these lyrics: “Can’t you see, I’m in misery. We made a start, now we’re apart.” Any ideas?’

In the silence that followed, Mary’s stage whisper to Henry could be heard loud and clear. ‘Poor man, he’s missing Tamara terribly and this has obviously brought it all back to him. A
very
unfortunate choice of words … ’

She was way off track, but she’d unwittingly put my mind at rest. I realised that Churchill wasn’t taunting me about Emma at all; he was referring to my break-up with Tamara. Someone would have told him about that during his first day in Highbury, I was sure.

Still a bastard, only not as clever as I’d thought.

~~EMMA~~

It was the look on Mark’s face that got to me. I wanted to put my arms round him and kiss the sadness away. As a friend, nothing more …

But the next moment Flynn was murmuring in my ear, ‘Oops, put my foot in it there, didn’t I?’

I gave him a sympathetic smile and whispered back, ‘You weren’t to know.’

He raised his voice. ‘So, Em, are you ready to have a guess at the answer?’

My smile broadened. ‘Depends what the prize is.’

‘
Can’t say, you’ll just have to trust me when I say it’s worth winning.’

I took a deep breath. ‘OK then, I think what they all have in common is – ’

‘
What about Henry?’ Mark put in. ‘He hasn’t read his out yet, it may give more people a chance to win the prize.’

Flynn hesitated, then shrugged. ‘Henry’s probably gives the game away, but if you insist … ’

Dad unwrapped his biscuit and stared at it longingly. ‘I don’t think I dare risk it – ’

‘
The paper, Henry, read out what’s on the paper,’ Batty squeaked.

He looked down and blanched. ‘Oh dear, I feel quite queasy. It says, “Grease is the word”.’

‘
Songs from
Grease
,’ Mark and I said, at exactly the same time.

‘
Correct, both of you.’ Flynn paused. ‘But you’re the winner, Em, I heard you first.’

‘
Oh, what a shame, can’t they share the prize?’ Batty said, much to my annoyance.

He shook his head. ‘I’m afraid it’s not that sort of prize.’

‘
I’m not bothered in the slightest,’ Mark said heavily, ‘but you could at least tell me what I’m missing.’

Flynn grinned at him. ‘Sure. I’ll be taking Em out for a meal, no expense spared.’

My heart skipped a beat. I could picture it now – an intimate candlelit dinner, wine and conversation flowing, and a goodnight kiss … ‘That sounds wonderful,’ I said. ‘We’d better arrange it soon, before everywhere’s booked up for Christmas.’

Jane got to her feet. ‘I’ve got a migraine coming on. If you don’t mind, I’ll call a taxi and go home.’