‘I honestly don’t think there’s any need. It was probably just exhaustion that made me dizzy. I feel fine this morning.’
Richard frowned sceptically.
‘All right,’ he agreed at last. ‘I’ll leave it at that, provided you promise me you’ll go to the doctor if you feel sick again. And that you’ll take a good long rest from work.’
‘But your move into the Prero’s building—’ began
Emma.
‘Is already under control. You’re welcome to come in and see what’s happening, but I won’t have you working long hours in there. What you need is to take time off, have some fun, develop a life of your own for a change. Is that clear?’
Emma rolled her eyes.
‘Yes!’ she retorted
‘Good. Well, if you’ll stop being such a worrywart about the damned business, I’ll take you in this morning and you can satisfy yourself that everything is going smoothly. But only for a couple of hours. After that I want you to rest.’
Emma found it remarkably pleasant to lean back in the plush upholstery of Richard’s BMW, instead of fighting the early morning traffic herself. Yet when at last the car pulled to a halt in the underground car park beneath her huge new office complex in the central business district she felt a sharp pang of apprehension. How on earth could she face the stares and whispers of her staff when she appeared at Richard’s side as his wife? Even worse, what would Richard’s employees think of their startling reunion?
But she need not have worried. As they stepped into the immaculate grey- and peach-coloured interior of the lower ground floor, a couple of busy-looking office workers on their way to the lift made way for them courteously.
‘Good morning, Mr Fielding, Mrs Fielding.’
It was polite, friendly, but as casual as if this were all part of the usual morning routine. Had Richard briefed his staff beforehand to prepare them for this? Or were they hand-picked for their discretion? Emma flinched, dropping her eyes to the velvety grey carpet so that she didn’t have to wonder whether the three men in business suits opposite were casting her speculative glances. Rather to her surprise Richard slipped his arm through hers in a casually affectionate gesture.
‘As you can see from the signs on the directory,’ he said, gesturing to the left of the control panel, ‘my firm has taken over most of the building now, though we’ve left Prero’s in place on the top floor. After I’ve taken you to meet some of my directors, you can slip up and have a cup of tea with Miss Matty.’ The next couple of hours passed quite quickly for Emma, and she found herself genuinely interested in learning about the details of the many building projects that Richard’s firm had tackled over the past eight years. There had been an award-winning urban infill housing programme for low-income earners, a seaside tourist development on the north coast, an old people’s housing estate that combined medical services and home health with independent living. And many others. More and more she realised that Richard was not only a shrewd businessman, a skilled tradesman and an expert lawyer, but also a compassionate man in touch with ordinary people’s needs.
When Richard was called away to the telephone, his office manager continued to describe the firm’s many achievements. A glow of pride flared up inside her as the man talked, but it was swiftly followed by a chill sense of disappointment. What right did she have to feel proud of Richard? He wasn’t really her husband any more in anything but name and she had played no part in his successes. This whole situation was nothing but a mockery and a farce! She was still flicking through the photo albums with a grim expression on her face when Richard reappeared at her side.
‘Well, are you ready to come and have tea with Miss Matty?’ he asked. ‘It certainly doesn’t look as if you’re enjoying yourself here.’
She found her father’s old secretary, Miss Matilda Pearce, on her hands and knees in a huge office on the top floor of the building, amid a sea of indescribable chaos. Filing cabinets and cupboards were open, papers were dumped all over the floor and Miss Matty was crawling around on the floor like a dressmaker who had dropped a tin of pins. Emma stared affectionately at that ample rear, clad in a viscose navy skirt, and then hurried across to haul the older woman to her foot.
‘Emma!’ cried Miss Matty, lurching upright and patting distractedly at her grey permed hair and her double string of pearls which hung askew over her tailored white blouse. ‘What on earth are you doing here?’
Emma gave a small fizz of laughter.
‘I work here, remember!’ she replied, kissing the elderly secretary on one flushed pink cheek. ‘Now, is there any chance of a cup of tea or not?’
‘Of course, my dear, if only I could find the kettle,’ replied Miss Matty, gazing distractedly around her. ‘What about you, Mr Fielding?’
Richard grinned.
‘No, I’ve got business to attend to downstairs, so I’ll just leave you two to catch up.’
Miss Matty gazed after Richard with an oddly furtive expression as the door closed behind him. In fact, she even tiptoed over to the door and opened it again, to make sure he had really left.
‘What are you doing?’ demanded Emma, vastly amused by this cloak-and-dagger secrecy.
‘Oh, my dear girl,’ replied Miss Matty remorsefully, sinking into an office chair. ‘You can’t imagine how guilty I feel about this whole affair.’
‘What affair?’ demanded Emma, in bewilderment.
‘Telling Mr Fielding where he could find you in Bali,’ explained Miss Matty, with the guilty air of a spy admitting to the betrayal of state secrets. ‘All these years I’ve worked in this office and never revealed a confidence before. I was afraid you’d be very angry with me, but Mr Fielding’s a very determined man when he wants his own way.’
‘I know he is,’ agreed Emma with feeling. ‘And I don’t blame you, Matty. Look, here’s the kettle under this pile of old Prero’s calendars from last year. Do you want me to plug it in somewhere?’
‘If you would, dear,’ agreed Miss Matty. ‘And there are cups in the cupboard over there. Now do sit down and we’ll have a nice little chat.’
Emma looked around, but found that the office chairs except for the one Miss Matty was occupying were covered in piles of junk, so she sprang nimbly up on top of a desk and sat with her feet dangling. Miss Matty’s rather severe features creased into an indulgent smile.
‘You always used to do that when you were little,’ she said with a nostalgic sigh. ‘Remember how often I ticked you off about it?’
Emma grinned.
‘You never meant it, though,’ she said. ‘You always used to give me a Mars Bar afterwards.’
Miss Matty’s brown eyes twinkled. Reaching into the top drawer of the desk, she drew out a brown-wrapped chocolate bar and handed it to Emma.
‘There you are,’ she said. ‘Enjoy it; it may be the last one.’
Emma’s eyes widened.
‘But why?’ she demanded.
‘I’m leaving,’ explained Miss Matty. ‘That’s why I’m sorting out all these old files. Mr Fielding has persuaded me to take an early retirement.’
‘Do you mean he’s pushed you out?’ demanded Emma indignantly.
Miss Matty clicked her tongue.
‘No, no,’ she said soothingly. ‘Nothing like that. To tell you the truth, I’ve been wanting to go for a long time, but I didn’t want to leave you in the lurch, Emma, when times were so hard. Now Mr Fielding has assured me that he’ll take care of everything, and he’s offered me a very handsome redundancy package too. Oh, Emma, I’m so pleased to see you back together again, and not just because of my own advantage either. I know your marriage has had its problems, but I always believed that Mr Fielding truly cared for you. And it was time somebody did, poor little waif that you were. I never thought it was right, the way Mr Prero took you away from your mother and then kept you so secluded when you were growing up. Heartless, I call it.’
Emma felt as if an abyss was opening up beneat
h her feet.
‘What?’ she demanded sharply. ‘What do you mean?’
Miss Matty sighed.
‘Oh, that dreadful custody case, when your father took you away with him, and the way he made it so difficult for her to visit you afterwards. He could be a very hard man, Mr Prero.’
Emma felt as shocked as if someone had just punched her in the stomach. Custody case? Nobody had ever told her anything about that.
‘Y-you mean my mother wanted to keep me?’ she stammered.
‘Well, of course she did, dear. But your father fought her tooth and nail over it and he had the money to win. Very cruel, it seemed to me.’
‘I thought you worshipped him,’ she faltered.
‘Oh, no,’ retorted Miss Matty, with a firm shake of her grey head. ‘He always paid me a generous salary, but that didn’t mean I approved of everything he did. And Mr Prero could be very unpleasant if you crossed him, very vindictive.’
‘All these years I’ve known you, Miss Matty, you’ve never said anything like this!’ exclaimed Emma.
‘No. And I shouldn’t be saying it now. I always took pride in my discretion, but now that I’m leaving the company I suppose that makes me feel a bit freer. Plus the fact that I’ve always thought of you more as a favourite niece than an employer, especially when you look like that, with a blob of chocolate on your cheek. Here, let me wipe it off with my hanky, you dreadful girl. Whatever will Mr Fielding say?’
‘Say to what?’ demanded a deep, masculine voice.
They both spun around with a gasp, then Miss Matty gave a hoarse chuckle.
‘To the sight of your wife behaving like a hoyden, swinging her legs, and painting her face with chocolate,’ she replied.
Richard chuckled too.
‘Mr Fielding will offer to take her to the zoo where she belongs,’ he said.
Emma stuck out an extremely chocolatey tongue at him.
‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ she said.
‘I’m serious,’ retorted Richard. ‘You need more rest and relaxation and, as it happens, I don’t have a very busy schedule today. After you’ve drunk your tea, I think we should stroll across to Circular Quay and then catch a ferry to the zoo. The fresh air will do you good.’
To Emma’s surprise they did exactly that. In the days before their marriage the zoo had actually been one of her favourite haunts, since she had never been allowed to visit it in childhood. Her father had regarded it as smelly, noisy and vulgar, and had consequently declared it off-limits. Emma had always been touched by Richard’s willingness to indulge her childish enthusiasm for the place. Now, as the hot sun beat down on the blue waters of the harbour and the bow wave of the ferry rushed past in a creamy, frothing turbulence, she turned to him with a quirky smile.
‘Do you remember how you used to bring me out here before we were married?’
‘Of course I do,’ he said shortly. ‘That’s why I thought you’d enjoy it.’
When they reached the North Shore of the harbour, Richard hung back to let the noisy crowd of excited children surge ashore and then took Emma’s hand as she came off the gangplank. Up above them the sculptured sandstone cliffs rose like a series of giant natural steps into a cluster of dense, olive-green vegetation. The air was hot and fragrant with the scent of eucalyptus trees and the sounds of chirps and roars and whistles was wafted to them on the breeze. Once inside the zoo, Emma forgot all about the sorry state of her marriage in the pleasure of mooning around, gazing at elephants and watching the antics of chimpanzees. It seemed this was an extension of the truce begun that morning, for Richard said nothing at all to upset her, but simply strode along beside her with a faint, amused smile on his face. At last Emma flopped down exhausted on a bench and kicked her shoes off with a sigh of relief. Richard sat down beside her and his lips twitched.
‘Well, are you ready to be taken out to lunch and revived now?’ he asked. ‘I know of a wonderful little oyster bar on the waterfront at Middle Harbour.’
Emma fanned herself with her map of the zoo and purred dreamily.
‘Sounds great,’ she agreed. ‘But how do we get there with no car?’
‘I’ve already thought of that,’ replied Richard. ‘I told one of the office boys to drop my car off in the car park at the top entrance to the zoo. We can leave whenever you like.’
Less than an hour later they were loading up their plates at a smorgasbord in a small bistro overlooking the water at Middle Harbour. Emma frowned thoughtfully as she looked down at wafer-thin orange slices of smoked salmon, fresh oysters on a bed of ice, wholemeal rolls, an array of salads and platters of cold fried chicken and rare roast beef. Normally she loved oysters, but today for some reason they seemed slithery and revolting. How peculiar. With a faint shrug she chose smoked salmon instead, accompanied by a mound of green salad and a bread roll, and she passed over the chilled chablis in favour of a glass of lemon mineral water. Richard’s eyebrows rose as he followed her back to their table.
‘No oysters?’ he marvelled. ‘I thought you gobbled up those things like a deep-water dredge.’
Emma pulled a face.
‘Not today,’ she said firmly.
He sat down opposite her and took an appreciative gulp of white wine, before attacking the mound of food on his plate. They were both hungry and had almost finished their meal before he spoke again.
‘Well, how did your chat with Miss Matty go?’ he asked.
‘Fine,’ said Emma with a smile. ‘At first I was afraid you were pushing her out of the company, but she says she’s really looking forward to retirement. Do you know, Richard, she told me something really strange today?’
‘Oh. What’s that?’ asked Richard, squeezing more lemon on to his oysters.
Emma paused for a moment, thinking how odd it was that she still found it completely natural to confide in Richard when she couldn’t have discussed this subject with another living soul.
‘She said my father fought my mother for custody of me when they got their divorce.’
‘Did he?’ asked Richard with a faint frown. ‘What’s so strange about that?’
‘Well, nobody ever told me about it,’ explained Emma. ‘Somehow I always had the impression that my mother had just abandoned me, that she didn’t want me.’
‘I see. I don’t suppose good old Frank gave you that impression by any chance, did he?’
Emma flared up. ‘I think it’s hateful the way you always use that sneering tone whenever you taik about my father. You’re just trying to blacken his memory, aren’t you?’
‘No,’ said Richard soberly. Then he pressed the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger in a gesture that he used when he was bone-weary. ‘I’m not trying to blacken his memory, I’m simply trying to make you see him the way he really was, instead of as the hero you’ve made him in your imagination. But for heaven’s sake forget your father, Emma! We both spent far too much time worrying about him when he was alive. Now that he’s dead, can’t we just concentrate on each other?’
As he spoke he stretched out his right hand to her in a simple gesture of friendship. His eyebrows quirked above his blue eyes in a familiar, rueful mannerism that sent an unexpected rush of tenderness surging through her. She let her hand settle warily into his and met his gaze. Steadily he looked back at her with those amazing blue eyes and his lips twisted into a faint smile. Her heart began to hammer furiously and with a fractional hesitation she returned his smite. She wished she knew what he was thinking. Once she would have been certain that she did. That sly, sideways grin and the narrowed eyes would have signalled that he was tired of quarrelling and wanted to make peace. Preferably in bed. Now she no longer trusted her instincts about Richard. It might be a genuine peace offer or it might be simply an attempt to throw her off guard so that he could torment her further. She decided to give him the benefit of the doubt. Her smile grew wider and her green-gold eyes were suddenly luminous with joy.
&n
bsp; ‘All right, Richard,’ she said softly. ‘Let’s concentrate on each other.’
The sunlight was slanting in from the west and the shadows of the gum trees were growing long and dark blue when at last they emerged from the bistro. Once the barriers had been breached, they had begun to talk freely and spontaneously, sharing the events of the past eight years. An ovemhelming sense of tenderness and intimacy lapped over Emma and, when Richard put his arm casually round her shoulders as they strolled back towards the car, she nestled instinctively against him. Richard gave her an affectionate squeeze and then stopped dead with a keen, alert look on his face like that of a hunting dog scenting game.
‘Just a minute,’ he urged. ‘There’s a “For Sale” sign on that big block of land down by the waterfront. I’ll only be a moment.’
Rolling her eyes, Emma strode on alone to the car, but then realised she didn’t have any keys. Somehow standing still in a hot car park seemed to make her feel peculiar. Very peculiar. She clutched at the door-handle for support as another of those alarming waves of faintness swept over her. Feeling slightly sick, she leaned heavily against the car, only dimly aware of the way the hot metal burnt her palms and of the sunlight sparkling on the blue water below. She took three or four slow deep breaths and the dizziness began to subside. Bafflement spread through her. What was wrong with her? She had never felt like this in her life, these sudden bursts of nausea, the queasiness at the sight of certain foods…and then slowly an incredible suspicion began to form in her mind. That night in Bali at Air Panas, they had taken no precautions… It was too soon to tell for sure, but… could she possibly be pregnant?
CHAPTER SEVEN
THE thought was so strange, so unsettling that Emma felt she was on a rollercoaster ride of unfamiliar emotions. First a soaring sense of excitement and exhilaration, followed by a sickening jolt as a runaway panic and dismay took hold of her. Not until this moment had she realised how desperately she wanted to bear Richard’s baby. Yet how could she, with things as they were between them? Even though they had been happy together this afternoon, there were still many festering wounds in their relationship. Old grudges unresolved and unforgiven, a complete lack of trust and deep communication, the nagging worry of Richard’s tie with Amanda… But absurdly she wanted his baby more intensely than she had wanted anything apart from Richard himself, Images rose unbidden to her mind of herself leaning back against a pile of pillows with a tiny newborn infant in the crook of her arm, feeding from her breast. And Richard beside her, embracing both of them and smiling proudly down at her. She gritted her teeth as she admitted that the reality might be far different. Herself alone with the baby, while Richard, now free and divorced, took another woman away on a honeymoon.
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