by Rosie Clarke
‘In the meantime, how do you feel about a preliminary trip to Paris? You could make contacts, have a look round; then when we’re ready to sign the contracts you can move straight into action.’
‘That sounds sensible,’ I agreed. ‘I’ll make my arrangements and go as soon as I can. I’ve already applied for my passport and travel documents.’
‘You don’t intend to let the grass grow under your feet!’
‘There’s no reason why I should.’
Philip looked pleased. Our coffee and a dish of fancy little sweets arrived. I poured for us both, but declined the comfits. Philip ate several. I had noticed that he was becoming a little fleshy in the face, and I wasn’t surprised if he ate sweets on top of the substantial meal he had just finished.
‘Did you enjoy your holiday?’ Philip asked, deciding to talk of other things now that our business was done for the moment.
‘Yes, very much, thank you. Jon liked the village where we stayed. He is very fond of Cornwall, and is going down again soon to look for a house for us, though not necessarily in the area we stayed.’
He looked startled, displeased. ‘I hope you aren’t thinking of moving away?’
‘Oh no. It will just be for holidays – though Jon may spend more time there. He needs time and peace to do his writing. There is always so much going on at home.’
‘You intend to stay on in London – in the same house?’
‘I’m settled where I am.’ I frowned, not quite sure of his meaning. ‘Why do you ask?’
‘I just wondered. People sometimes speculate … about your relationship with Solomon Gould …’
‘We are friends and business partners, that’s all. Three other women live in the same house, and two children.’
He realized I was annoyed and shook his head. ‘I’m not questioning you, Emma. I know some people think the situation a little odd – since his wife died – but I’m not one of them.’
Something in his manner told me that was a lie. I was irritated by the implication, but tried not to let it show.
The fact that I lived in Sol’s house might seem strange to anyone who did not know our story. There had been nothing unusual in the situation when Margaret was alive, of course. Perhaps I ought to have considered moving after she died, but it had not seemed necessary – it did not now.
‘Sol is my friend,’ I repeated, feeling slightly annoyed. ‘Nothing can change that.’
‘No, of course not. Forgive me. I shouldn’t have mentioned it.’
‘I’m married,’ I said, pressing the point. ‘Even though Jon may not always be around, I’m still his wife.’
‘Yes, of course. I wasn’t suggesting there was anything wrong. Good grief! Sol must be more than twenty years your senior.’
‘Yes …’ I turned the subject, speaking of the trip to Paris and asking what percentage of stock he felt should come from the French suppliers we were intending to do business with.
We talked for a few minutes longer; then I left Philip to finish his coffee and petit fours. I was thoughtful as I went outside. I had intended to catch a bus part of the way home and then walk, but it had turned chilly. Seeing a taxi passing, I hailed it, opening the door and jumping in as soon as it drew to a halt. I was startled when a man followed me in and turned to voice a protest, but the words died on my lips as I saw who it was.
‘You won’t mind if I share, Emma?’
‘We may not be going in the same direction.’
My heart was crashing wildly against my ribs as I looked into Jack’s eyes. Oh, why did he always make me feel like this? Why couldn’t I be indifferent to him?
‘I want to speak to Sol about something.’
‘Oh, I see. In that case …’
Jack gave the driver the address and slid the glass panel shut between us. I settled in my seat, glancing at him as he too sat back, my heart still beating faster than normal.
‘I might have been going to one of the shops.’
‘Were you?’ I shook my head and he grinned. ‘That’s all right then. Don’t look so annoyed, Emma. It was a spur of the moment thing.’
‘How long have you been back in London?’
‘You mean after my trip to Paris?’ Jack took out his cigarette case. It was gold on silver and engraved with his initials. It looked new, and I thought it might have been a wedding present – perhaps from his wife? He offered the contents to me. His cigarettes were flat and expensive. Father had once sold them in his shop to discerning customers. I shook my head. ‘Do you mind if I do? And the answer is a few days.’
‘No, I don’t mind if you smoke. I do occasionally, but not often.’
Jack lit his cigarette. His eyes were intent on my face. ‘You were dining out with a friend? I saw you in the Savoy foyer and followed you out.’
‘I was having a business meeting.’
‘Ah yes, of course. You are a successful businesswoman these days. May one inquire what you are planning at the moment?
‘I’m not sure …’ I hesitated, then explained about Philip’s offer. ‘It sounds good – almost too good to be true, perhaps. I like the idea of buying stock in Paris.’
‘Are you going alone or with Matthews?’ Jack frowned. ‘Not my business, of course. But I should warn you, Emma. Mixing business and pleasure doesn’t work.’
‘It’s strictly business!’ I glared at him. ‘And you’re right – it isn’t your affair.’
‘If I were you, I would stay clear of the whole thing,’ Jack advised, ignoring my outburst. ‘It stands to reason – Matthews wants you. He’s using this to get you into his bed.’
‘How dare you?’ I hissed. If we had been alone I might have struck him. ‘You may have a low opinion of me, Jack – but Philip admires and respects me.’
‘What kind of a man is he?’ Jack looked amused. ‘At least I was always honest with you, Emma. I wanted you from the start – as a matter of fact I still do …’
‘What?’ I stared at him as the breath left my body. ‘I thought you despised me?’
‘At first I came close to hating you,’ Jack admitted. The expression in his eyes mocked and challenged me. ‘However, once I saw you again I knew I still wanted you. I’m married now, but so are you. You made me an offer once – now I’m making you one, Emma. Whatever Matthews is willing to give you, I’ll treble it …’
I recoiled, feeling as if he had punched me in the stomach. How could he say such a terrible thing to me?
‘I’m not for sale, Jack.’
‘I wasn’t attempting to buy you, darling – just prevent you from making a big mistake.’
I was silent as the fury churned inside me. I wanted to lash out at him, to hurt him as he had me, but if I had let my feelings loose at that moment there was no telling what I might have done.
‘You always imagine you know best,’ I said at last. For those few seconds, I hated him as fiercely as I loved him. ‘Thank you for your offer – but I think I might prefer Philip’s.’
‘That’s your final word?’
I nodded, not trusting myself to speak again. Jack leaned forward and slid the glass panel back.
‘Stop at this corner, driver. I shall get out. You can take the lady on – she will pay you.’
He smiled at me as he got out.
‘Enjoy yourself in Paris, Emma.’
I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of an answer.
The stupid thing was, I had almost decided to turn Philip down until Jack made me that outrageous offer. I hadn’t liked the way Philip had hinted that there was something odd about my living in Sol’s house. If Jack hadn’t got into my taxi, I might have changed my mind about the Paris trip, but now I was determined to go through with it.
Why should I give up this chance just because Jack disapproved? He obviously believed I was willing to have an affair with the first man who offered.
Damn him! The pain rippled inside me, but anger was taking over. Why should I care what he thought?
; Besides, my marriage was virtually over. If I wanted to have an affair with Philip or any other man, that was entirely my own business.
Jack Harvey could go to Hell for all I cared!
I spent a restless night, unable to sleep, my mind chasing round and round as I tried to reconcile my feelings.
I was so angry with Jack, and yet I could not forget his words to me in the taxi. Had he really meant that he would like us to have an affair?
I had turned him down, but in my heart I was beginning to regret it.
‘We need some more dresses for the six to seven year olds,’ Gwen told me over the phone the next morning. ‘They’ve sold well this summer, Emma. And those sailor suits for three year olds – could you get some in larger sizes?’
‘Yes, I think so. I’ll order them today. I’m going to Paris next week – but I’ll try to come down when I get back.’
‘Paris? That sounds exciting.’
‘You wouldn’t like to come with me?’
‘Me? No thank you,’ Gwen said and laughed. ‘I don’t fancy crossing all that water. Besides, I’m too busy. You go and tell me all about it when you come down. I might have some news of my own for you then.’
I smiled as I replaced the receiver. My mother had hinted that she thought Gwen might have a gentleman friend.
‘I’m not saying there’s any funny business going on, Mum said. ‘But they’ve been seen out together on several occasions.’
I wondered if Gwen’s news was about a certain gentleman my mother had mentioned. I rather liked the idea of my aunt having an admirer. She had devoted her life to her invalid mother until Mrs Robinson died, and must be in her early fifties now, but there was no reason why she shouldn’t enjoy the friendship of a man.
I was brought out of my musings by a sudden interruption.
‘Emma – these have just arrived for you.’
Pam came into the study carrying a bouquet of pink carnations and roses. She offered them to me. I sniffed their perfume and took the attached card, feeling curious. Who had sent them?
‘Forgive me. Can we still be friends? Jack.’
I stared at the card for a moment or two, then tore it in half, feeling angry. How dare he send me these?
‘Return them to the florist, please.’
‘I didn’t see the delivery van,’ Pam said, looking at me anxiously. ‘What’s wrong, Emma?’
I sighed, then shrugged. ‘Nothing … not really. I suppose it doesn’t matter. Just throw them away.’
‘That would be a pity. May I have them in my room?’
‘Yes, of course, if you want them.’ I smiled at her. ‘Don’t worry, Pam. I’m just cross. Jack Harvey sent them. I’m annoyed with him, that’s all.’
‘Oh … Jack Harvey. I see.’ Pam looked relieved. ‘He does seem to have a habit of making you cross, doesn’t he?’
Her tone made me realize how ridiculous I was being and I laughed ruefully. ‘Yes, he certainly does,’ I said. ‘Just take them away, Pam.’
‘There are some letters in the hall,’ she said. ‘I had to sign for one of them. It may be the documents you’ve been expecting. Shall I fetch them for you?’
‘You had better put those wretched flowers in water. I’ll have a look at the post.’
I went into the hall as Pam departed. My temper had cooled quickly. Jack had obviously thought better of his behaviour the previous day, and the flowers were a peace offering. I supposed I would have to forgive him. I still wanted to punish him, but in a small, secret part of my heart, I was pleased that he had admitted to still wanting me. Even as his mistress …
It was my own fault he had made me that outrageous offer, of course. It was because of what I’d said to him when we’d quarrelled just after the invasion of France. I’d said something about our sleeping together whenever he was in London – and that after I had just told him I was staying in England with my husband! I hadn’t thought about what I was suggesting. I had just been so desperate at the prospect of losing him that I’d spoken impulsively. It was only afterwards that I realized the enormity of what I had said.
Jack had accused me of using him. He had been so angry, so bitter.
‘You don’t care that you’ve broken my heart … You’re a selfish little bitch, Emma. You want to keep me on your string … prolong the agony.’
His words and the manner in which they had been spoken were still fresh in my mind, despite the years between. He had left me in anger and now it seemed he had relented. Or had his offer been meant to insult and wound me?
Surely it must have been? If he had spoken in earnest … my mind reeled dizzily at the realization of what that might mean.
No, I was chasing butterflies! Jack was married to a young and beautiful girl. He must love Angie. Why else would he have married her?
It could have been out of pique of course, because he hadn’t been able to forget me.
Such vain, foolish thoughts! It was wicked of me to hope that Jack still loved me. I shut the tantalizing thoughts out of my mind as I went through the pile of letters in the hall.
There were three for Sol, the other four were for me. One was from my friend Mary. I knew it would be full of gossip from the town of March and the busy life she and her family led. I put it aside for later.
Two of the letters were from manufacturers: buttons and zips, and someone who wanted to sell me some material containing nylon – which was still a very new fabric as far as I was concerned, though it had been invented in America in 1938. We’d seen very little of it during the war, but now more of it was beginning to become available, though the stockings made from it were still like gold dust and hard to find. I thought it very exciting and believed it would be increasingly popular as time went on.
My fourth letter was a bulky package from the solicitors Sol and I both employed in all our business ventures. I opened it, saw it was a draft contract, and took it into the sitting room to read. I had a feeling that I might need to study this very carefully.
‘I’m not sure about this clause,’ Sol said, tapping the contract with his finger. ‘It appears to mean that if you cease to be Matthews’ partner, you cannot work for anyone else within a radius of five miles for five years afterwards.’
‘Philip didn’t mention that!’ I frowned over the documents. ‘I do wish lawyers would put things more simply. I certainly wouldn’t want to be tied down by a clause like that.’
‘I told you to watch him, Emma. I should give this some more thought if I were you.’
‘Yes, I shall.’ I looked at him thoughtfully. ‘I shan’t cancel my trip to Paris, though. Even if I don’t take up Philip’s offer, I may still buy some stock for my own shops. He was right about that part, everyone is going mad over the New Look.’ I wrinkled my brow. ‘What about that dress I suggested – is it selling? The one with the midway skirt length …’
‘Very well,’ Sol replied. ‘Better than the ankle length actually. It’s because it takes less coupons, but still looks new and exciting – and we’re competitive on price. I saw someone else had had a similar idea, but he is selling for five shillings more than us.’
‘If I bring in some French designs, we may be able to take some ideas from what they are doing over there. I’ve wondered if we should consider taking on a designer of our own, Sol …’
‘We’re the bread and butter end of the trade,’ he argued. ‘We may change the length of the skirt or sleeves, but our lines are classic – they sell year in, year out.’
‘Yes, I know. I’m not suggesting we should stop producing our usual lines, just that we might try to move upmarket a little. Be a little adventurous.’
‘Well …’ His gaze narrowed. ‘It would be a risk, Emma.’
‘It might be worth having a go. We could try a few samples for a start, see how things work out – but first we need a designer we both like. Someone with fresh ideas, but nothing too outrageous at first.’
Sol was considering the idea. We did very well with the
lines we sold, which we had based on half a dozen classic styles with variations of collars, sleeves, etc., and like most other manufacturers, we were experts at copying anything the important designers came up with. We were followers of the latest trends, but never set them ourselves.
That had always been good business, but for a while now I had been thinking that we could do with some new ideas. Women were becoming more demanding these days. Their natural desire to wear beautiful clothes had been repressed during the years of rationing. We were still suffering from these restrictions, but it couldn’t go on for much longer. When the upturn came, there was going to be a big change in the way ordinary women dressed. New materials would make clothes cheaper to produce, and therefore more accessible. I believed we ought to be preparing for the change.
‘We’ll see,’ Sol said at last. ‘You find a designer who is willing to work for the sort of wages we can afford to pay, and I’ll go along with you.’ He laughed. ‘I might as well agree now and have done with it. Otherwise, you will go ahead and do it on your own anyway.’
‘I wouldn’t go against you, Sol. We might have had our disagreements in the past, but I don’t know what I would have done without your friendship. Whatever happens in the future, I want us to continue to be friends and partners.’
Sol nodded, his eyes warm and amused. ‘You know I would do anything for you, Emma. And don’t worry about that contract. I’ll talk to our lawyers before I let you sign anything.’
‘What would I do without you?’
‘I’ve no idea,’ he said drily. ‘Fortunately, the feeling is mutual – so you won’t have to. As long as I am around, I’ll always do my best to look after you, Emma.’
‘My best of friends.’ I kissed his cheek. ‘Thank you. In that case, I can go off to Paris and enjoy myself. The only thing I have to worry about is whether the French Jon taught me when I used to visit him in hospital will get me through …’
Chapter 6
It had been a productive day! I had spent most of the morning wandering in and out of the dress shops and large stores with clothing departments. My object was to discover what was selling, which designers were most popular – and where I could buy similar clothes at wholesale prices.