The Importance of Being Emma (40 page)

Unaware of my gloomy thoughts, Harriet chattered happily all the way to Donwell Abbey. She’d bought a new dress especially for the party, had a bikini wax – which she described to me in excruciating detail – and spent ages doing her face.

‘
Why splash out all that money on a bikini wax at this time of year?’ I said curtly. ‘You’re not off on a secret holiday in the sun, are you?’

She giggled. ‘No such luck. Call it a thong wax then, I bought a new thong at Ann Summers, just in case.’

I was silent as I turned into the Knightleys’ drive. When we were nearing the house, I said, ‘Just in case what?’

‘
In case I get to shag Mark tonight.’

I nearly crashed into George’s Mercedes. Somehow I hadn’t envisaged things happening so quickly. On the other hand, Mark and I hadn’t exactly held back at Forbury Manor; at least, I hadn’t.
I need you to undo my dress … Kiss me … Don’t stop … Not now …

Harriet was clutching at her seat belt. ‘Shit, Emma, did you forget where the brakes were?’

I reversed to a safe distance behind the Mercedes, yanked on the handbrake and said stiffly, ‘I expect you’ll tell me if you don’t need a lift home.’

‘
Knowing my luck,’ she said, with a snigger, ‘there’ll be loads of snow and
everyone
’ll be staying at Donwell for the night. What a friggin’ thought!’

What a frigging thought indeed. Well, I wouldn’t be hanging around while Harriet and Mark … No, I’d get home if it killed me.

‘
Let’s go inside, it’s freezing.’ I slammed my car door shut and walked briskly to the house while she scrambled out of the passenger side to join me. I stood on the front step and rang the bell, my heart pounding as I waited for Mark to open the door. But it was Gusty who came, swathed in a garish orange sari, waving a clipboard and chanting, like some deranged Tibetan monk, ‘George and
Saffron
… David and
Sandy
… ’

‘
Excuse us.’ I pushed past her into the warmth, dragging Harriet with me.

Gusty clicked her tongue and studied her clipboard. ‘Emmurrr Woodhouse, yes, you’re on my list.’ The word ‘unfortunately’ hung unspoken in the air. ‘No Henry tonight?’

‘’
Fraid not,’ I said, smiling at a harassed-looking Mrs Burn as she emerged from the kitchen. ‘Hello, Mrs B, where shall I put our coats?’

Before Mrs Burn could answer, Gusty said officiously, ‘Don’t distract her, she’ll tidy them away later.’ She gave Harriet a withering glance. ‘But I wouldn’t take
yourrrs
off yet, I don’t seem to have the name Smith on my list.’

I slipped off my coat and helped Harriet with hers. ‘Your list’s wrong, I’ve seen Harriet’s invitation. Mark even added a personal message.’

Harriet blushed and her eyes sparkled. Suddenly, I could see how her simplicity and self-consciousness might appeal to Mark. Then I noticed her new dress: four skimpy panels of black patent leather with sugar-pink voile inserts, leaving very little to the imagination. All I could think was that she must have had to travel a long way from Highbury to find something so bizarre.

‘
Through here, Harriet.’ I dropped our coats over the banister and hurried her into the drawing room before Gusty could put my thoughts into words.

The first person I saw was Mark, his elegant stone-coloured trousers and black polo-neck jumper fitting like a second skin. His eyes lingered on Harriet’s dress, but his expression was inscrutable.

He walked over to us. ‘Glad you could both make it.’

‘
We nearly didn’t,’ I said drily. ‘Gusty makes a very good bouncer.’

‘
God, what have I done to deserve that woman?’ He grimaced. ‘She and Philip weren’t even invited, they just turned up saying Mrs Burn asked them along to help. Not that Gusty’s doing much. She seems to be using this as a networking opportunity and handing out her business cards to anything that moves.’

‘
Not quite anything, she didn’t bother with us. Where’s Philip?’ I scanned the room anxiously. I couldn’t face any embarrassing scenes between him and Harriet tonight. Especially if I had to watch Mark being a knight in shining armour again.

He gave an exasperated sigh. ‘Would you believe he’s setting up a cookery demonstration in the conservatory? It’s Gusty’s idea of an icebreaker. I’ve told her there’s no need to break any ice, we’ve all known each other for years.’ He grinned at Harriet. ‘Actually, that’s not quite true, you’ve never met my father and stepmother, have you? Let me introduce you.’ He was about to lead her away when he added, as if it was an afterthought, ‘They’re looking forward to seeing you again, Emma.’

I fixed a bright smile on my face. ‘You two go ahead, I need a quick word with Kate first.’

Kate and Tom were holding hands by the fireplace, in a world of their own. It was a pity to interrupt them, but I certainly didn’t want to play gooseberry to Mark and Harriet.

‘
How are you?’ I said, my eyes on Mark as he guided Harriet over to George and Saffron, his long tanned fingers in the small of her back.

‘
Fantastic.’ Kate sounded excited. ‘Guess what happened today?’

‘
What?’ My response was automatic, my attention elsewhere. Across the room, Harriet seemed to be making an impression; Mark and George were laughing, while Saffron looked distinctly frosty – although that in itself was nothing unusual.

Kate was saying, ‘I had an ultrasound scan. Oh Emma, we actually saw our baby!’

I roused myself with an effort. ‘Oh yes, the scan, wonderful.’ She’d mentioned the appointment to me on New Year’s Eve; normally I’d have rung her this afternoon and asked all about it, but I’d completely forgotten.

‘
An amazing experience,’ Tom added. ‘Something I never had with Flynn. By the way, he’ll be here soon. He’s coming direct from the station, had to go up to London unexpectedly, a big meeting with the BBC.’

‘
It was very kind of Mark to invite him,’ Kate put in, ‘especially as he’s never met George and Saffron.’

Just then Harriet came dashing over to us. ‘This house freaks me out, it’s so posh, innit? Except I’m sure those are Skir wine glasses from Ikea, two for a fiver, although Saffron says hers are from Harrods, she’d never be seen dead in Ikea. Is that her idea of a joke?’

So that was what Mark and George had found so funny; and of course Saffron had taken offence, big time.

‘
Saffron’s fine once you get used to her,’ I said. ‘I’d better go and say hello.’

As I approached, I saw Saffron talking to the Perrys while Mark was deep in conversation with his father. I heard George say, ‘And you think she’ll agree?’

Mark nodded. ‘I’m sure of it, otherwise I wouldn’t even be asking – ’ He broke off when he noticed me.

George kissed me warmly on both cheeks. ‘You look ravishing, my dear. Doesn’t she, Mark?’

Mark didn’t seem to be listening. ‘I’ll go and have that word with Harriet,’ he muttered, and moved away.

‘
He’s got a lot on his mind at the moment.’ George smiled apologetically, then gave Saffron a discreet nudge. ‘Here’s Emma.’

‘
Darling!’ Saffron went through her ‘kiss and miss’ routine, ‘Mwah!’ somewhere beside my left cheek and ‘Mwah!’ near my right. ‘Lovely to see you.’ She lowered her voice the merest fraction. ‘This village is going to the dogs. That funny little girl in the hideous dress bleating on about Ikea and that frightful woman Mark asked to organise the party, what in God’s name was he thinking? But you haven’t changed, thank goodness. Just remind me to give you Felice’s phone number, she’ll show you how to do your hair and make-up properly, darling.’

George cut in hastily with, ‘And how are things going at Highbury Foods? Mark tells me you’re very talented at marketing.’

Really? He’d given no sign of being impressed so far. I was about to say something to that effect, when Gusty clapped her hands to draw our attention.

She surveyed us all with a condescending smirk. ‘Ladies and gentlemen, I know it’s the middle of winter but I thought I’d bring you a taste of summer with a little cookery demonstration. I’m making Fraises à la Neige, which means strawberries in snow for the uninitiated, so simple that even my better half Philip can do it. Everything’s set up through here’ – gesturing grandly at the conservatory – ‘although it’s impossible to get decent strawberries at this time of year. These ones were flown in from Spain or somewhere, but of course in the summer I’d pick them, fresh. Make a little outing of it, you know.’

Batty piped up, ‘That’s just what we do every June at Bob Taylor’s pick-your-own fruit farm on the Kingston road. Poor man, he’s never been the same since he … We take a picnic and have a wonderful time, you’d be welcome to join us, dear.’

Gusty scowled. ‘I’m going to be organising my own pick-your-own outing. Up to London, Fortnum & Mason in fact, very
select
.’

I caught Mark’s eye and, for a split second, we shared one of our old knowing looks. Then he turned abruptly away.

As if in a dream, I watched Gusty bully everyone into the conservatory; at least, almost everyone. The sight of Mark leading Harriet off in another direction wasn’t a dream – it was a short, sharp dose of reality. Behind me, I heard a loud curse as someone collided with the door.

I whirled round to find Flynn rubbing his elbow. ‘Oh hi, Tom said you were on your way.’

He grimaced. ‘I gave up dinner at the Ritz for this, hope it’s bloody well worth it. Funny how people are too ill to see me but not too ill to come
here
.’

‘
What on earth are you talking about?’ I said, giving him a bemused look.

He forced a smile. ‘Sorry, it’s been a long day. Don’t suppose there’s any decent whisky in this place?’

‘
I’ll see what I can do.’

Just then, Gusty came marching up to us. ‘Flynn, you gorrrgeous man, I want your
professional
opinion of my strawberries in snow.’ She slipped her arm coquettishly through his. ‘Come along, don’t be shy.’

Flynn jerked his arm away. ‘You can stick your strawberries up your – ’

‘
We’re not in the mood,’ I put in quickly. ‘Another time maybe.’

Gusty glared at me. ‘I hardly think so. Do you realise how much time and effort this demonstration’s taking? Not to mention the expense, although I told Sheila Burn to claim back every penny she’s spent from Mark, it’s nothing to do with me.’ She spun on her heel and stalked off.

Flynn ran his hand through his hair. ‘Any chance of that whisky?’

‘
Mrs B will track some down, she’s probably in the kitchen. This way.’

‘
What would I do without you, my lovely?’ he said, flinging his arm casually round my shoulder.

As we entered the hall, Mark and Harriet came out of the study opposite. At that moment, my worst fears were realised. He seemed rather pleased with himself; but she … she looked like she’d just won the National Lottery, a rollover jackpot on a £1 ticket.

‘
Remember, not a word to anyone,’ Mark said. When he saw us, his expression darkened. ‘Can I get you something?’

I dropped my gaze from Harriet’s radiant face and stared at her high-heeled, open-toed shoes. They were black patent, like her dress, and through her black tights – or was she wearing stockings, all set for seduction? – I could see that her toe nails were painted alternate black and pink. I wondered what Mark would think … But then, if he was besotted with her, he’d find everything about her irresistible, wouldn’t he?

‘
Whisky,’ I said, quietly. ‘Flynn’s had a long day and he’d like a whisky.’

Mark’s voice was cold and clipped. ‘Shall I bring it to you here or are you looking for somewhere more private?’

We weren’t; but I felt a sudden need to get back at Mark, make him believe someone found me desirable, even for just one minute. So I leaned in closer to Flynn and pressed my lips to the pulse just below his ear. If he was surprised, he didn’t show it; instead, his arm tightened round me.

I gazed up at Flynn but my words were for Mark. ‘The drawing room’s private enough, everyone’s in the conservatory. Come on, Flynn, we’ve got a lot of catching up to do.’

As soon as we reached the drawing room, Flynn shut the door and pulled me gently round to face him.

‘
What is it, Em?’ he said. ‘I mean, I’m very flattered but I don’t believe for one moment that you fancy me.’

I buried my face in his shirt in a useless attempt to shut out my despair. ‘Just hold me,’ I whispered. ‘For a minute or two. Please.’

And he did. He held me so tight that all I could hear was the steady beat of his heart. It soothed me, kept the tears at bay. When at last I stepped away from him, I noticed that someone had placed a decanter of whisky on the little table just inside the door.

There were two glasses, not one. That was Mark, thoughtful to the last.

~~MARK~~

My conversation in the study went well. As I’d anticipated, Harriet needed very little convincing to come to India. In fact, I had the feeling she’d need very little convincing to jump off a cliff; which was why I always knew I’d have to get her away from Highbury, to give the relationship a chance – although maybe India was taking things a bit far. Not that she asked me anything about the place; all she wanted to know was what clothes she’d need and whether she could take emergency supplies of something called Lambrini, which apparently always got her ‘in the mood’.