The One You Love (22 page)

‘Like me and Dan,’ Emma reflected. ‘And me and Stuart.’

‘If there’s anything I can do to help –’

‘I’d like to look at the phone,’ Emma said. ‘Dan’s phone.’

‘Sure, I’ll go and get it.’ Miranda rose from the table.

‘Miranda,’ Emma said, ‘I am sorry for everything.’

Miranda smiled and went to get the phone.

‘Here it is,’ she said, handing the phone to Emma. ‘It isn’t locked, so you should be able to go through all the messages.’

Emma scrolled through the menus to bring up the list of previously called numbers. He hadn’t made many calls, but one number caught her eye.

‘Found anything interesting?’ Miranda enquired, as she watched Emma just staring intently at the mobile screen.

‘It’s your number.’ Emma looked up, stunned. ‘He phoned here.’

‘Dan?’ Miranda said. ‘He often calls, checking if you’re around when he can’t get hold of you on your mobile. He’s done it a few times when I’ve been here.’

‘No, he called here after he disappeared.’

‘Are you sure?’ Miranda looked confused.

‘I’m sure,’ Emma said. She turned the screen towards Miranda. ‘Look, the phone lists all the calls in order. Your number comes after the number here, which is for the wedding shop, and he called there two days ago. It means he called here in the last couple of days.’

38

‘I’m sorry about just blowing up like that,’ Edward said as he entered into the living room. ‘I’m just a little touchy at the moment.’ He looked at Emma and then Miranda, who were both sitting on the sofa, stone-faced. ‘What’s happened?’ he asked, his face deflating. ‘Is it Richard?’

Emma shook her head.

‘Then what?’

‘Emma found our number on Dan’s mobile phone memory,’ Miranda explained.

‘Is that important? I mean, he’s called here loads of times.’

‘He called here in the last couple of days,’ Emma said. ‘But Miranda says that she hasn’t spoken to him.’

‘And you think I have? You think I’d speak to Dan and not tell you about it, with all that you’re going through?’

‘I just need to ask.’

‘I haven’t spoken with him,’ said Edward, his voice cracking with emotion. ‘I promise I haven’t.’

‘I believe you,’ Emma said, wanting to retract the accusation and saddened by the hurt expression on her father’s face.

‘I would never do anything to hurt you, Em,’ he said. ‘I know things haven’t been easy for us, but I always want the best for you, and your brother.’

‘Okay,’ Emma said, ‘just try to keep calm.’

‘Dan must have called when no one was home,’ Miranda offered.

‘It just doesn’t make sense,’ Emma said. ‘Why doesn’t he just call me?’

‘I don’t know why he would have called us,’ said Edward, still sounding like someone on the defensive. ‘Just like I don’t know why he put that phone through the letterbox. Nothing about this makes sense, Emma.’

‘I met up with Stuart the other day,’ Emma said suddenly.

‘Pardon?’ said Edward. ‘You spoke with who?’

‘Stuart,’ Emma repeated. ‘Stuart Harris.’

‘What?’ Edward’s face flushed crimson.
‘I… I don’t understand.
Why would you want to speak with him, after all that happened? After everything that man did to you? This wasn’t something just to get back at Dan, was it?’

‘No, of course not,’ Emma protested. ‘I wouldn’t do that. It wasn’t planned.’ Now she was feeling defensive herself.

‘Then why?’

‘I found out that he’d recommended me for the role in the film.’

‘He recommended you?’

‘The casting director told me, so I wanted to speak with Stuart to ask him why.’

‘And you met up with him?’

She nodded.

‘So what did he say?’ he said, unable to hide the bitterness in his voice.

‘Not much. He said that he recommended me for the part because he knew I would be good in the role. He said it wasn’t a way to get me back – he didn’t even want me to know that he’d recommended me.’

‘And you believed him?’

‘I think so.’

Edward turned his head slightly, rubbing at his face as if he was trying to wash away the images of Emma and Stuart meeting up again.

‘Dad,’ Emma said, ‘I’m okay. It was fine.’

When he looked back at her, the sight was shocking. Although it was impossible, he seemed to have aged ten years in those few seconds of contemplation. He looked drained, defeated and broken.

‘Promise me that you’ll never see him again,’ he said softly. ‘Just that one time – never again.’

Emma paused.

‘
Emma.
You might have forgotten what that man did to you, but I haven’t. And I won’t let him just walk back into your life, when you’re already feeling so vulnerable, and risk it happening again. I won’t allow it.’

‘I have met him again,’ Emma admitted.

Edward closed his eyes and breathed in deeply. He stood up and walked towards the bay window and held onto the window ledge as if needing support.

‘It was at the casting party last night,’ Emma explained. ‘I didn’t know he would be there.’

‘Will you see him again?’ said Edward, still looking out of the window.

‘I… I don’t know.’

‘For God’s sake,’ he shouted, turning around. ‘Haven’t you had enough of being messed around?’

Emma flinched. Her father never lost his cool.

‘Edward.’ Miranda stood up and moved to intercept him as he approached Emma. She placed a hand on his chest. ‘Please, calm down. We can all discuss this calmly over a nice cup of tea.’

‘I don’t want a bloody cup of tea,’ he bawled, straight into her face. ‘I want my daughter to stop ruining her life.’

This time Miranda was the one to flinch.

Suddenly Edward’s face contorted with pain and he thrust a hand to his chest.

‘Edward!’ Miranda said, wrapping an arm around his back.

‘I’m okay,’ he said, letting Miranda sit him down on one of the straight-backed chairs. ‘Just get my spray. It’s in my coat.’

‘Spray?’ Emma said. ‘What’s the matter? Why do you need spray?’

‘Angina,’ he said, grimacing.

‘But, why…’

‘He didn’t want to worry you,’ Miranda said, reading Emma’s mind whilst handing Edward a small spray canister. Emma bit her tongue as she watched Edward spray into his mouth and breathe deeply.

‘The doctor diagnosed it six months ago,’ Miranda said. ‘Edward was getting chest pains when we were out walking. They did some tests and found out he had angina, but it’s manageable with the spray. As long as he doesn’t get too worked up.’

‘I’m fine,’ Edward said, noticing Emma’s worried expression. ‘And I know I should have told you about it. I’m sorry.’

‘At least I know now.’

‘I’m sorry for shouting, too. But I meant what I said. I want you to stay away from that man. He’ll only end up hurting you again.’

***

An hour after she left Edward was still shaking. He paced around the upstairs study before sitting on the bed and staring at the wall.

What a mess.

He got up and moved over to the phone. He could hear Miranda clearing up downstairs so it was safe to talk without fear of being overheard. He dialled the number, wondering if he was overreacting. But his instinct suggested that he wasn’t.

‘Hi, it’s me. I know you didn’t want to be disturbed, but something has happened: something I need to tell you about.’

39

‘Hi Emma, it’s me.’

‘Stuart?’ Emma said, as she negotiated the busy main road. ‘How did you…?’

‘Guy gave me your number,’ he said, pre-empting her question. ‘I hope you don’t mind. It’s just that I’ve got some news that I wanted you to know about.’

‘Go on.’ Emma slowed to a stop on the pavement, fearing what was to come.

‘I had a phone call before from a journalist, wanting to know about you.’

‘I don’t believe it,’ Emma said, shocked at the continued intrusion into her privacy. ‘You didn’t tell him anything, did you?’

‘No, of course not. I told him I had no comment.’

‘Good,’ she said, moving to the edge of the walkway, ‘that’s good. Did he say where he was from?’

‘
The London Daily News.
’

‘They already did a piece on me in today’s paper.’

‘I know,’ he replied. ‘I saw it. Who gave them the photo of you and Dan?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘You think it might have been Dan himself?’

‘I really don’t know. How did the journalist know to contact you? We haven’t even seen each other for years.’

‘No idea,’ he said. ‘I suppose they have their ways and means.’

‘It’s just so weird to have people snooping about,’ said Emma, as a businessman hurried past, busy in conversation on his mobile. ‘I don’t like it.’

‘I’m sure it will all blow over,’ he comforted. ‘I wouldn’t want you to be put off going for the film role by the press attention. Tomorrow they’ll have another story and that will be the end of it.’

‘I hope so. It was a shock to see the photos, but it won’t put me off.’

‘I’m glad. You really deserve your success, Emma. I always knew you had what it takes to really make something of yourself. Someone with your talent was always going to do well – you just needed that lucky break.’

‘Thanks.’ Emma felt embarrassed and uncomfortable with the flattery.

‘I had a really good night last night,’ he said. ‘It was great to chat with you properly, after all these years of wanting to explain what a fool I’d made of myself.’

‘I had a good time too.’

‘I’m glad. I didn’t want me being there to spoil your night.’

‘No, it was good, honestly.’

‘I was wondering,’ Stuart began. ‘There’s this new play that’s just started – it’s had really good reviews. Tragic love story, I think. I wondered if you’d like to come and watch it with me. Otherwise I’ll be just going on my own.’

‘What about your girlfriend?’ asked Emma, searching for an excuse to decline the offer.

‘She’s not really into the theatre,’ he said, in a disappointed tone that betrayed the fact that he had taken the hint.

‘Look, Stuart,’ Emma said. ‘I really appreciate you asking, but I don’t think it’s such a good idea. Not just now, with everything else that’s going on.’

‘I understand. I shouldn’t have asked.’

Emma felt sorry for him. ‘No, not at all. It was nice of you to ask. But I just can’t think about anything else at the moment, not with everything that’s going on. Please don’t take offence.’

‘Honestly, I won’t. And I promise, if any more press people call up I’ll tell them to take a running jump.’

***

‘I didn’t take the photo,’ said Eric, looking at the newspaper that Emma had picked up on the way to the park – a replacement for the one her father had torn up.

‘It must have been you,’ Emma accused. ‘This was taken on the day I spoke with you – the day you were taking my photograph.’

‘But this isn’t one of my photos,’ Eric countered, pointing at the image. ‘I only took your photograph up close. This was taken from a distance, with a zoom lens.’

‘Why should I believe you?’

‘Because it’s the truth – and I already told you, I don’t sell my photos to newspapers. I never have and I never will,’ he said with passion. ‘Someone must have been watching you from a distance. It’s nothing to do with me.’

‘Are you sure it was taken from a distance?’

‘Positive. Look, I know more about photography than most people. It was definitely taken from a long way away.’

Emma looked across the park, as if a person might still be there, watching with the long-range camera. Of course she couldn’t see anyone. She turned back to Eric.

‘Were you at the launch party last night?’

‘No. I thought about going, but I didn’t in the end. Why?’

‘I thought I saw you there.’

‘Must have been my clone,’ Eric joked. ‘I was tucked up in front of the television. You can ask my mum if you like.’

‘I’m sorry, Eric, for accusing you. It’s just that when I saw that photograph, I just thought that it had to be you who’d taken it.’

‘I can understand that,’ he said. ‘It must be awful being splashed all over the newspapers like that.’

‘It is,’ she admitted.

***

As Emma returned to the apartment she couldn’t shake the feeling that someone might be watching her – maybe the same someone who had taken her photo for the newspaper. She hurried back as quickly as possible without breaking into a run. Occasionally she glanced around, but she didn’t spot any photographers. But then again, they were probably very good at keeping out of sight.