To Turn Full Circle

by Linda Mitchelmore

  ‘Two minutes,’ Emma said, starting to run to her room to fetch her things. She stopped, turned back to Matthew. ‘No, make that five minutes. I’ll need to change from these work things if I’m going out. Don’t go without me.’ Then she sped towards the bottom of the stairs.

  And the last thing she heard as she scooted along the landing towards the next flight of stairs was Matthew saying, ‘That girl,’ and his deep, booming laugh.

  ‘Torquay?’ Emma said as Matthew took her arm and led her along the quayside to the small ferry that plied across the bay. Mostly it took fish and cabbages to the shops and restaurants, but in the summer months the skipper had started to capitalise on the burgeoning tourist trade and took fare-paying passengers, too.

  Like Rome, Torquay was said to be built on seven hills. And her father had once said that gazing at it across the water, Torquay looked to him like Monte Carlo – only more green.

  ‘More potential for you to spend your money in Torquay,’ Matthew said. ‘More shops.’

  ‘I don’t know that I do want to spend it,’ Emma said as they reached the ferry. She glanced at Matthew and saw him raise his eyebrows in surprise, and a little smile began to form at the corner of his mouth. Emma thought how lucky his wife was to be married to him. And if his wife knew he was taking her to Torquay, spending the day with her, maybe flirting with her a little.

  The skipper greeted Matthew like an old friend. ‘Matthew Caunter, you old dog. What brings you here this time?’

  ‘Adam,’ Matthew said, shaking the ferryman’s hand.

  ‘And who might the lovely young lady be?’ Adam asked.

  ‘A friend of mine. Miss Emma Le Goff.’

  ‘Then any friend of Caunter’s is a friend of mine.’

  The ferryman extended a hand and Emma took it, allowed him to help her into the boat. Red sails hung like wet washing against the mast.

  ‘For a fisherman’s daughter I’m a novice sailor,’ Emma said. ‘I hope I won’t be sick.’

  ‘Today?’ Adam said. ‘It’s like a mirror out there. We’re going to have to row out a few hundred yards to pick up any breeze at all to sail. But we’ll need to move quick, or we’ll miss the tide.’

  And with that Matthew leapt aboard, too. Emma settled herself on a seat and glanced at the handful of passengers. All seemed very well-dressed. None made eye contact and one couple spoke to one another in whispers behind their hands.

  ‘Were they talking about her? Emma didn’t care if they were. She was feeling happy – something she hadn’t felt in quite a while now. Even the sadness of not seeing Seth today couldn’t dent that happiness – well, not much. As the ferry went through the harbour entrance Emma looked around to see if she could see him on one of the Jago boats, but couldn’t. She felt something like relief flood through her that Seth hadn’t seen her with Matthew and her shoulders dropped from somewhere around her ears.

  The last thing she wanted to do was hurt Seth in some way, what with all he had on his mind at the moment.

  ‘We’re meeting my wife at The Lanterns for lunch,’ Matthew said.

  The ferry had been tied to a bollard, the other passengers had gone ashore and were already hurrying along the quay to whatever it was they were going to do to fill their day.

  Emma gazed up towards the villas at the top of the hill – they were huge and imposing. A narrow path zigzagged its way up the hill amongst palm trees. There were more cars here than she’d ever seen in one place at a time before. Smarter carriages, too. More well-groomed horses. This was a rich man’s resort indeed. And now she was here. How very exciting.

  ‘Did you say we’re meeting your wife?’

  Emma felt her little bubble of excitement deflate a little.

  ‘Are you hard of hearing or something, Emma Le Goff?’ Matthew quipped. ‘I always have to say everything twice to you. Yes. My wife. She’s called Annie.’

  ‘Why didn’t she come to Nase Head House with you, then?’

  ‘You and your questions.’ Matthew wagged a finger at her, but jokingly. ‘She had some things she wanted to shop for alone. Don’t ask me what – shopping’s a woman’s prerogative.’ He laughed. ‘She came up with me from Slapton on the carrier’s cart. But she came on here by rail. She doesn’t like being on the water.’

  Matthew jumped onto the landing steps and held out a hand to Emma to help her ashore. Then he looked back towards Adam who touched a finger to the side of his nose. And in that instant Emma knew why Matthew had called for her and brought her to Torquay by ferry. Without his wife.

  ‘You were spying on something. Or someone. Weren’t you?’ she whispered. ‘If you’re using me again, Matthew Caunter, I’ll …’

  ‘I’m not using you. Trust me. You trusted me enough to stay in Shingle Cottage alone with me, so trust me now. You’re sixteen now, Emma, not a child. Please stop acting like one.’

  Matthew seemed to have taken on the role of her father without anyone asking him to and Emma was itching to tell him so. But then she fingered the amethyst at her throat. It came to her then that maybe he might have put himself and his professional reputation at risk in getting it back for her.

  Emma nodded. ‘I’ll try.’

  ‘And just in case you think I’m coming the heavy-handed father with you, I’m not. As I told you once – and it was the truth – had you been older and we’d met in different circumstances then …’

  ‘Then you’d better forget you even thought that if we’re meeting your wife for lunch.’

  Torquay was laid out before her, ready for her to explore, and she was going to do her best to enjoy it all.

  ‘It’s been a lovely day,’ Emma said.

  Much to her surprise she’d liked Matthew’s wife, Annie, very much. Annie was much younger than Emma had thought she would be – nearer her own age than Matthew’s. And the two women had giggled their way through the racks of clothes in Rockheys and Williams & Cox, and Bobby’s.

  Annie had picked out a dress for Emma in the prettiest of greens – chartreuse. It had a self-coloured belt and tiny pearly buttons running from throat to waist. And it flared out deliciously around Emma’s ankles, feeling wonderful where it swished against her calves as she spun round for Annie to admire it some more. And then they’d cooed over shoes in shop windows until Emma had seen a pair she really loved and Annie had insisted she go in and try them on. And buy them. And a bag to match. And then some earrings – pearls – had been bought in Hadleighs, only the most expensive jeweller in the whole of Torquay.

  Lunch had been eaten in the restaurant of The Lanterns hotel. Lobster soup and chicken poached in white wine followed by a pudding Emma hadn’t gone much on – too heavy and doughy and not at all right after such a delicate main course.

  She’d shocked Matthew and Annie by asking to speak to the manager. Then asking him if he would be interested in French pastries and tarts, the pastry crumble-soft and butter-scented.

  ‘At a later date,’ Emma had finished. ‘My business is only a fledgling one at the moment.’

  And she and Annie had giggled together at Matthew’s discomfiture. But it had sown more seeds in Emma’s mind about what she really wanted to do with her life. She could see herself with a small hotel that served only the best of everything. Sometime. Sometime in the future.

  ‘Annie enjoyed it, too,’ Matthew said.

  They’d all come back together on the train. Annie had declined the short, but very steep, climb up to Nase Head House from the station. Her feet really ached, she said, from all the walking around the shops and she’d wait for Matthew to deliver Emma safely to the hotel. She would sit in the Ladies Waiting Room at the station until his return.

  ‘You can leave me here,’ Emma said when they reached the gateway to Nase Head House. ‘You’d best get back to Annie. No harm’s going to come to me between
here and the front door.’

  ‘I hope not,’ Matthew said. ‘But I’ll see you inside. I promised Rupert I’d deliver you back safe and sound.’

  He slipped a hand under Emma’s elbow and guided her up the steep drive. At the top of the steps Emma turned towards him and said, ‘Annie’s lovely. Don’t upset her any more by taking on dangerous covert jobs.’

  ‘I won’t, bossy boots. In fact this could well be the last time we see one another – you and me. Today, I was finalising one last job. Annie and I are leaving for America soon.’

  Matthew pushed open the double doors and ushered Emma inside, all Emma’s carriers of purchases dangling from his other hand.

  ‘At the risk of you thinking I’m deaf or disbelieving, I have to ask – America?’

  ‘Yes. So, this is probably goodbye, Emma.’

  Goodbye? For one silly moment Emma had harboured thoughts of doubling up her list of friends to include Annie. But it wasn’t going to be.

  On impulse she turned to face Matthew, put her arms around his neck and kissed his cheek. ‘Thank you, thank you for a wonderful day, and well … for everything.’

  It was thanks to Matthew she had the roof of Nase Head House over her head. She was sad that she probably wouldn’t see him ever again, of course she was. But she would never forget him.

  Matthew kissed her on the forehead. Put his free hand to the back of her head.

  And that’s when she saw Seth.

  He was sitting on the leather seat in the centre of the foyer. He had a bunch of roses in one hand and a large parcel wrapped in pink paper in the other. He seemed to freeze on the spot. Their eyes met – hers and Seth’s – and even with a good few yards distance between them Emma could see the pain and hurt and loss in Seth’s eyes. Seth stood up and, without looking at her, marched straight past and out through the double doors, his gifts hanging one in each hand at his sides.

  Oh, if only she’d insisted Matthew leave her outside the hotel. She had a feeling that as well as this being the last time she would see Matthew, it would probably be a very, very long time before she would see Seth again, either.

  ‘You’re not the only woman around!’ Seth yelled across the inky water of the harbour. A gull, head tucked down in sleep, fluttered on the rim of a rowing boat, startled momentarily by Seth’s shout, but settled down again.

  He looked back up towards Nase Head House where lights were still on. He shook his head to try and banish the picture he had in it of Emma kissing Matthew Caunter, but couldn’t. And then that kiss Matthew had given Emma so tenderly on her forehead. They were probably still in there, arms entwined, and he’d been forgotten by them both.

  Seth considered taking a boat out in the darkness – letting it drift with him in it – even though after only a few minutes he felt sick whenever he was on the water. Well, he was feeling pretty sick about things anyway at the moment – what difference could a bit of motion sickness make? He’d have a pint or two in The Blue Anchor. And some female company. There’d be plenty of women in there who, for the exchange of a few florins, would permit him their favours if he was so inclined as to accept them. It looked as though his brothers had been right about him wasting his time on Emma after all, didn’t it? But that didn’t mean he had to behave like them.

  Emma had looked so happy and glowing coming back with Caunter that he thought he might explode with rage and thump the living daylights out of the man. But what good would that have done? It would only have set him fairly and squarely in the same camp as his brothers and his pa, wouldn’t it?

  Seth turned, kicked a discarded beer bottle into the water, and headed for the inn. If his future was going to be without Emma Le Goff, then so be it.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Seth had wined and dined a few women in the nine months that had passed since the night of Emma’s birthday.

  There had been a few weeks in May when the country was mourning the death of King Edward VII, when everyone had worn black and no one had dared to consider enjoying themselves, but that time had passed now. All the talk was of the Coronation of King George V to come, and for the women, what they were going to wear to the parties that were being organised for the occasion.

  He was meeting one such woman now. Caroline Prentiss. Whilst she was the daughter of the most successful builder in the area – Charles Maunder – she was also a widow, older than Seth by a good ten years. He was meeting Caroline for the fifth time, feeling anxious but excited, too. She’d intimated that she would be happy to welcome Seth into her bed as long as he was discreet and didn’t boast about it to his friends. And Seth had to admit that the offer appealed to him, although he hadn’t taken her up on it yet. Might tonight be the night? Caroline was pretty enough – her blonde hair piled on top of her head and almost always fixed with a diamanté clip, exposing a long, creamy neck that only a cadaver wouldn’t be tempted to kiss. The exact opposite of Emma in looks, if truth be told. Why did he still persist in comparing every woman to Emma? It would have to stop.

  Seth walked on towards Church Road where Caroline lived. Her late husband – a solicitor – had left her not only with a fine house but with substantial savings, so rumour had it. There had been no children of the marriage, for which Caroline had told Seth she was grateful.

  ‘You’re late, Seth,’ Caroline said, when the maid showed him into the drawing-room. ‘You may go, Giles,’ she said, turning to her maid. ‘Weren’t you telling me your mother has been ill and you’re anxious to see her?’

  ‘Yes, Ma’am.’

  ‘Then, go to her. Stay the night.’

  ‘Thank you, Ma’am.’

  The maid scurried off as though she was afraid Caroline might change her mind.

  Caroline returned her attention to Seth. ‘As I said, you’re late. But I could forgive you.’ She ran the tip of her tongue along the edge of her top lip.

  Seth raised his hands towards Caroline in supplication. He was late, there was no denying it. He’d walked the long way round to Church Street – via Nase Head House in fact, a route he took often in the hope he’d have the courage to walk up the steps, ask for Emma, apologise for his silence. The longer the rift went on, the harder it was going to be to heal. He’d been stupid to be jealous of Caunter because the man had long left for America, so he’d heard. The kiss he’d seen Emma give him, and the one she’d been given in return, had been goodbye kisses, that was all.

  ‘Paperwork,’ Seth lied. With a businessman father, Caroline would know how much paperwork was involved in running a business. He could hardly tell her he was late because he’d strolled, oh so slowly, past Nase Head House in the hope of seeing Emma Le Goff, could he? ‘My apologies.’

  ‘Accepted,’ Caroline said, stretching out a long, slim arm towards Seth, inviting him to kiss her hand.

  Seth complied. Caroline’s hand felt icy and he jerked his shoulders.

  ‘I know. I’m cold, aren’t I? Cold waiting for you,’ Caroline said.

  ‘I’m sorry.’

  ‘So you said.’

  ‘You’ll soon warm up with some good food inside you. I’ve booked a table at The Grand …’

  ‘I don’t know that I want to go out, Seth,’ Caroline purred. ‘I’m too tired for the trek to Torquay. You can ring and cancel.’ She waved an arm in the direction of her telephone. ‘I’d rather stay in. You can warm me up. Warm us both up.’

  Seth knew exactly what she meant by that remark.

  ‘Giles knows I’m here,’ he said, playing for time, not at all sure that he wanted to be Caroline’s ‘secret’ any longer.While they’d dined in hotel restaurants out of the town, where they were unlikely to be seen, it could only be a matter of time before someone spotted them. The whole thing – the subterfuge – made him feel second rate. And yet …

  ‘And I asked Giles to leave out some cold cuts and p
ickles. Enough for two. The table’s all set in the dining-room. I pay her enough to forget she was asked to do that and to know that you’re here.’

  Caroline fingered a gold locket dangling on a chain in her cleavage. Seth struggled not to look, but it was impossible. Caroline Prentiss was a fine woman, a very fine woman indeed. She took a deep breath and her breasts rose, pointing themselves at Seth almost, and he felt a stirring inside him. Lust.

  Seth knew in that moment that tonight would be the night he took up Caroline’s offer to share her bed.

  ‘’Ere, Emma,’ Ruby said. ‘Have you heard?’

  ‘Heard what?’ Emma said. Ruby was forever asking her things she couldn’t possibly answer. ‘Tell me. I’m not a mind reader.’

  ‘Oh, sorry. I forgot you’re not 100% genius, Miss Le Goff,’ Ruby giggled. ‘What with the French you’re spouting all the time. Those boys were yattering away to one another yesterday on your half day, and they could have been saying I was an old witch for all I know.’

  Emma laughed. ‘You’ll never know, will you?’

  ‘And you won’t tell.’ Ruby stuck her tongue out playfully at Emma.

  ‘Of course not. Anyway, what was it I may or may not have heard?’

  ‘Only that there’s rumours doing the rounds that Carter Jago’s name is being mentioned in the same sentence as the murder of that poor girl …’

  ‘Sophie Ellison,’ Emma said, a sudden flashback to the day she’d found Sophie’s body making her feel nauseous. She swallowed the feeling away.

  ‘Her,’ Ruby said. ‘That was the name I heard being bandied about. Seems the police have been in and out of all the inns asking questions. And it seems there are lots willing to tell what Carter Jago did to ’em against their wills for the sight of a shiny sixpence from those asking the questions.’

  ‘If it’s only rumours, then you can discount them,’ Emma said. She doubted very much that the police would be handing out shiny sixpences in return for answers to their questions. Didn’t she know, firsthand, that rumours were almost always only that?