Emma cast her eyes over the table, expecting to see a rainbow of folders but there was only one.
‘But I can’t see any bank or investor agreeing to a loan given the state that your accounts must be in at the moment.’
There was that silence again and Emma took a breath of heavy air in preparation for whatever was coming next.
‘I’m going to contact Dad,’ Louise said.
Emma had thought she had calmed her heart rate but it hammered with a new ferocity, which transferred to her voice when she spoke. ‘Are you serious?’ she snarled.
‘He can help and, besides, he needs to know.’
‘What? Needs to know what?’ stammered Emma. ‘That I’m ill again? What do you really think he’ll do? He didn’t exactly rush to my aid last time, did he?’ She was starting to pant, almost to the point of hyperventilating.
‘Maybe he didn’t understand how sick you were. We don’t know.’
‘That’s the point, Louise. He didn’t even try to find out. He was told I had a brain tumour and all he did was send a get well card. I was fighting for my life, for God’s sake. He wouldn’t have even known if I’d survived, not unless he was scouring the obituaries.’
Louise looked unconvinced, stubbornly clinging to the idea that their father could save the day. Emma turned to her mum. ‘And you’re alright with this?’
‘If it helps with the finances,’ she said with a shrug. ‘And if you don’t want to see your dad, that’s fine. I don’t exactly relish the thought of having John back in our lives either but Louise will contact him and if she can twist the knife and bleed him dry then she has my blessing.’
‘No,’ Emma said, and with one word she had dismissed the plan to go to Boston in its entirety. ‘It’s not worth it. I’ll take my chances in this country. You don’t need his money.’
Meg’s fist thumped down on the table with such force that it made both her daughters jump. ‘I won’t let you give up, Emma!’ Meg cried. ‘If you don’t want John involved then fine, we’ll find another way, but I swear I won’t let you give up. I’m prepared to sell everything, lose everything, it’s only money.’ Meg stopped only long enough to swallow back a sob. ‘I don’t want to lose you, Emma, and I’ll never forgive myself if I haven’t tried everything I possibly can.’
Louise was silently crying, her hand covering her mouth even as she spoke. ‘Mum’s right. We’ll find another way and if I lose the business, it’s not the end of the world. Losing you is the end of the world.’
Emma felt all the fight leave her body as countless options ran through her mind, from running away and seeing out her last days on her own, to coming up with some amazing fundraising scheme to secure the funds without her father’s help. But there really was no escape. She picked up the file, pulling it from beneath her mum’s clenched fist. There really was only one choice.
Chapter 6
My choice of assignment wasn’t simply a question of choosing something that would take me to the most exotic locations, although that was still appealing. I had to choose something that would prove to the higher echelons at Clover and Alsop that Kate’s faith in me was well placed. It wasn’t only my neck on the line and I knew I was going to have to push myself to the limits.
It was no surprise, then, that I was too frightened to be excited as I boarded my flight. I wouldn’t relax until the job was done and there was a lot of work to do. My new assignment was for the Museum of Fine Arts in Boston. A new exhibit was being planned and it was my job to deliver the publicity campaign that would draw in the crowds. The artefacts were going to be loaned from the Egyptian government and I had convinced my client that before they were sent from Cairo, it would be a good idea to produce some marketing material with the items in situ.
My nerves would not be calmed as the plane took off and I headed for the clouds once more. I had chosen the assignment because, as a child, my dad had dragged me around pretty much every museum in the UK. He and my mum had worked in the same solicitor’s office although, for my dad, the office seemed to hold more appeal than his own home. When he did spend time with the family we always tried to make the most of it and would often think up little excursions. His hobby was antiques and he spent lots of his free time researching in museums and the remainder visiting flea markets and car-boot sales. He said it was his Scottish blood that gave him the thirst for a bargain.
Louise being four years younger would complain loudly every time we entered yet another musty and cramped junk shop but I shadowed my father’s every step, desperately wanting to understand his obsession for the dusty relics of the past. I had feined interest at first because it was the easiest way to secure his attention. I didn’t have Louise’s cute blonde locks and rosy cheeks, which gave her the confidence to demand attention whenever she wanted. I was darker, a little too serious for my own good and I felt I had to work at it to be liked. But whatever my motives, my imagination and curiosity had eventually taken over and I began to share my father’s passion where simply holding an ancient piece of pottery in my hands could give me a tantalising glimpse of the past. I had picked up the assignment from the pile Kate had offered me without hesitation. I really had no choice.
The plane lurched and my stomach with it and my thoughts of my dad turned towards another memory. I was no longer a child but a young woman on a flight home from a family holiday in Spain before setting off for university. Looking back, it had probably been a last-ditch attempt by my parents to save their marriage but it had failed miserably, the holiday that was, although the same could eventually be said of the marriage.
We had two weeks of sea, sand and snarls and the flight home was torture. I had been seated next to Louise and we were half the plane’s length away from my parents. She would have been fourteen at the time and there was only so much of her hormone-fuelled surliness that I could take. Midflight, I had slipped into a vacant seat behind my parents. They hadn’t realized I had joined them, so weren’t aware that I could hear their whispered arguments, which led to a painful dissection of their marriage, stripping it bare until there was nothing left to resurrect. I had wanted to return to my seat next to Louise but the plane hit turbulence and I was trapped, forced to bear witness to what could later be marked as the beginning of the end of their marriage. I had hated flying ever since.
I tried to focus on the future although that wasn’t easy when my assignment involved delving into the ancient world, but I did my best to put my own ghosts to rest and concentrate on the task in hand. The trip was all planned out although I’d already upset the production company who had the challenge of meeting my uncompromising demands. But I wouldn’t let myself or anyone involved in the project ease up.
I could do this I told myself when we landed at Cairo. I was in control. Then I stepped out of the airport and was hit by a wall of heat. I tried to take a deep breath but it was as if I had just walked into an ancient tomb rather than open air and I almost choked on the taste of acrid dust. A car was waiting for me but rather than the plush taxicab I thought I had ordered, I was met by a dishevelled-looking man with a handwritten sign bearing my name, held between his nicotine-stained fingers. He was leaning against a dirty and dingy car that may once have been white. I looked around in hope that there was another sign for Miss Patterson but no such luck.
I tried to exchange pleasantries but it was clear that the driver knew only a few words of English and I knew absolutely no Egyptian. At least he recognized the name of my hotel, which, if the reviews were to be believed, should be more sanitary than the back seat of the cab. The upholstery was covered in equal measures of dust and grime, the only form of air conditioning was an open window and there was a distinctive smell of sweat and fear, the fear mostly mine. I opened up my laptop in an effort to keep my mind occupied and went through some of the storyboards for the photoshoots. It wasn’t long before I felt motion sickness as the driver swerved from one lane to another, seeming not to notice or care if he was driving on the wrong side
of the road.
It was inevitable that we would hit something as we sliced in between traffic and the occasional pedestrian and the inevitable arrived in the form of a young man in a brightly coloured shirt that was, to his good fortune, loud enough to draw the driver’s attention in time for him to hit the brakes. The taxi managed to slow enough to allow the poor man to dive for cover in a flash of orange and blue and in the end it was only a traffic sign that took the brunt of the impact. I was probably more surprised that the brakes actually worked than I was about the accident itself.
Everything stopped. The traffic, the people on the street, my heart. The only thing that seemed to move was the sweat as it trickled down my back.
I tumbled out of the car but my legs had turned to jelly. I staggered towards the man who was rising tentatively to his feet and, as he turned slowly towards me, I could barely believe my eyes.
‘Oh, my God, Ben!’ I cried. ‘What on earth are you doing here?’
‘Mostly trying not to get killed by a maniac driver,’ he said, laughing.
I took a long look at him. I had briefly considered hiring Ben as photographer for the Cairo shoot but he had once said that food was his first love and I had been loathe to draw him away from his chosen vocation. But it wasn’t only his appearance in Egypt that had me bemused, it was how he looked too. He was dusty and his clothes were crumpled; his hair was longer than I was used to, and he had at least two days’ stubble on his chin. ‘Nice shirt,’ I said with an approving nod at the Hawaiian fashion crime, before bursting into laughter and giving him a hug.
I had been doing well enough on my own but it was good to feel his arms around me. I needed a friend. Fortunately for me, we were within walking distance of my hotel and Ben offered to escort me there once we had escaped the clutches of the taxi driver, who was busily explaining himself to a local policeman.
‘So what are you doing here?’ I asked, wanting a proper answer this time.
‘It was the weirdest thing,’ he began. ‘A package arrived on my doorstep. It had a camera in it and an aeroplane ticket. Not to mention an assignment that would pay me more in a month than I could earn in a year. It was like a dream come true.’
‘Sounds like you have a benefactor,’ I said with a smug smile. My kindly shopkeeper clearly shared my penchant for meddling in people’s lives and could see that Ben deserved something better than slaving over a hot stove for the rest of his life.
‘Yes, but I was once told that you should be careful what you wish for. The project manager is a real pain in the neck, by all accounts. She’s had everyone running around in circles and she’s not even in the country yet.’
‘I think you’ll find she is,’ I replied.
Ben stopped in his tracks and looked at me, a cloud of dust swirling at his feet. He wiped his eyes again, still not sure if he could believe what he was seeing. ‘Please, don’t tell me you’re working for Alsop and Clover?’ he said.
‘I’m afraid so.’
Emma was starting to enjoy her writing far more than she could ever have imagined. It was the realization of a long-held ambition to write a book but it was so much more than that. It was giving her a break from reality and the more she wrote, the more it drew her in. When she closed the lid of her laptop, the world around her was a darker place but at least she kept the smile that had accompanied her on her latest journey. She wondered what Ben would think of her latest entry. He certainly wouldn’t like the shirt or the fact that she had more or less driven a car at him, but she was feeling mischievous, an emotion that didn’t come easily to her these days.
Emma had an appointment for an MRI scan later that afternoon and she was dreading it. The image taken today would provide the benchmark for her future treatment and, more crucially, it would decide where that treatment would take place. Emma had arranged for Ally to take her but, rather than pick her up from home, she had insisted on calling into the office first. She wasn’t about to make it easy for anyone to forget her. Her mischievous streak was still showing.
‘Are you sure you don’t want me to take you?’ Meg asked when Emma emerged from her bedroom.
‘No, I’m fine,’ Emma said, picking up a piece of toast as she watched her mum set out an assortment of pills. ‘If you can give me a lift to Bannister’s, Ally can take me the rest of the way.’
Meg seemed completely absorbed as she counted out the pills but the act wasn’t convincing. There was something on her mind.
‘You could spend the rest of the day relaxing for once,’ Emma added. She wanted to add that her mum looked tired, exhausted even, but she bit her tongue.
Meg shrugged. ‘If you’d given me more notice I could have organized some appointments with clients.’
‘That was the reason I didn’t tell you,’ Emma confessed. ‘Take some time out, Mum. You deserve it.’
Meg’s smile was so weak it trembled at the edges. ‘One day,’ she said, ‘but not today. Once I’ve dropped you off, I’ll pop into the office.’ She was now pressing her finger down on one particular pill, building up to say whatever it was she needed to say. ‘Are you sure you want to go into Bannister’s?’
‘I’m not going to throw myself into work, if that’s what you’re thinking.’
‘I was thinking maybe you would want to avoid any upset.’
‘About?’ Emma asked, but she suspected she knew the answer. When Meg shrugged, it confirmed her suspicions. ‘Who told you?’
‘When Gina phoned last night and you were in the shower, we had a bit of a chat and she might have inadvertently mentioned it. You could have told me, Em. I know I wasn’t particularly impressed with the way Alex treated you but I would have been sensitive. If you’re upset I want to know. I want to help.’
Emma felt strangely relieved. ‘I know I should have told you straight away. Sorry, Mum, but I couldn’t face you telling me I’m better off without him or, worse still, telling me it would be best to break the ties now before we leave for Boston.’
‘I wouldn’t,’ Meg began with a half-smile.
‘And I’m sure you won’t,’ Emma added.
‘So how do you feel about it?’
‘Put it this way, I’m looking forward to going into the office. If anyone is going to feel uncomfortable about that, it isn’t going to be me.’
‘Hello, stranger,’ Gina said, rushing over to give Emma a hug. She had been waiting at the entrance to welcome Emma personally.
‘Hello, stranger still,’ replied Emma.
When Gina released her, Emma was giving her an accusing look. Gina blushed. ‘Oh, God, what have I done now?’
‘Your conversation with my mum last night?’
Gina bit down on her lip. ‘Did I drop you in it?’ she asked, before launching into her explanations. ‘I knew I wasn’t supposed to say anything and I didn’t but then I said something and then I tried to back track and then she asked me what I meant and then I had to say I didn’t know anything.’ Finally, she took a breath.
‘And Mum didn’t believe that you didn’t know anything? Normally, you’re so convincing,’ Emma said, laughing at Gina as they linked arms and made their way through to the office. ‘So what do I need to prepare myself for?’
‘I hope you’re not going to be too disappointed but Alex has disappeared on a site visit. It’s obvious he’s trying to avoid you, the meeting wasn’t in his diary yesterday.’
Emma shrugged. ‘Well at least I can talk about him if he’s not here.’ She felt a tug of regret as she walked into the building. The prospect of ever returning to work at Bannister’s seemed remote and even if she could return one day, Emma wasn’t sure she would want to, not now she had set her sights higher.
Emma had a few hugs and hellos from colleagues along the way to her old office. There was still that sense of discomfort in their greetings, but, to Emma’s surprise, Jennifer wasn’t one of the ones who showed it.
‘It’s lovely to see you,’ Jennifer told her.
‘That plant ne
eds watering,’ Emma told her curtly. She was looking at the desk that had once been hers but that Jennifer had made her own. Emma’s spider plant had withered and all but died, its leaves limp and tinged a deathly brown at the edges.
‘I’ll get some water,’ Jennifer said with a blush of embarrassment to rival Gina’s. She was on her feet before Emma could stop her.
‘No, don’t worry,’ Emma said, giving into the guilt. Life was too short to hold grudges, she told herself, and it was hardly Jennifer’s fault that she had been dragged in to cover her work.
Rather than sit back down, Jennifer gave Emma a hug. It was only then that Emma noticed how her clothes were less gaudy, almost verging on the professional. ‘It really is good to see you,’ Jennifer repeated. ‘I’ve been looking after your files much better than I’ve been looking after your plant. I can’t believe how organized you are and the ideas you were developing … they’re filling in a lot of the gaps.’
‘I’m sure Alex has found them invaluable.’
‘My dad has, that’s for sure. Are you able to hang around, he’s out at the moment but I know he would be sorry to miss you. He’s thinking of taking on consultants and wouldn’t mind your input.’
‘What kind of consultants?’
Jennifer took a furtive look around, only Gina was in earshot. ‘Marketing,’ she whispered.
Emma blinked. She looked at Gina and then back to Jennifer as if to confirm that she was hearing correctly. In Emma’s case, she had every reason to doubt her own senses. Then she looked at her watch and her heart sank. She had timed her visit so that it would be brief. She had wanted to make her presence known but no more than that. ‘I really wish I could but I’m already cutting it fine as it is. Where is Ally anyway?’
‘I’m here,’ she panted. ‘Sorry, I was stuck in a meeting but I’m ready to go now.’
Before Emma was dragged away she gave Jennifer one last quizzical look. ‘If you need any help, you know where I am. Gina can give you my mobile number.’
Another Way to Fall Page 10