by Susan Lewis
Realising she’d got into thinking about her mother when she’d been determined not to, Emma closed down her computer, grabbed her bag and coat and went off to fetch Mrs Dempster. She’d have plenty of time when she returned to check out the hotel she might soon be working for, and start preparing herself for Thursday. She might even give her mother a call to say thank you for the card.
There again, she might not.
‘I can hardly believe it,’ Polly was laughing later that evening, ‘you get a job interview and I get a new business partner all on the same day. There’s no doubt about it, our luck is changing.’
‘So what’s he proposing?’ Emma wanted to know as she struggled to screw the top off a bottle of red wine.
Taking it and doing the honours, Polly said, ‘He’s going to pay the outstanding rent on the church hall so we can start using it again, and he’s also going to cover the staff’s wages while we cast a wider net to bring in more clients.’
Emma was astounded.
Polly shrugged. ‘That’s what he said.’
‘And what does he get out of it? Apart from a free nursery for his son, presumably?’
Polly grimaced as she passed back the bottle. ‘It’s complicated, but in a nutshell he wants a fifty per cent share of the profits once we’re back on our feet, which is still going to make things pretty tight for me, unless I can find a way to expand and open more Polly’s Playtimes around the region. He says I’ve already got the brand name, and a good reputation, so once things start stabilising there shouldn’t be too much of a problem getting the new nurseries under way.’
Emma was looking seriously impressed. ‘I think we need to drink a toast to Mr Wood, don’t you?’ she said, holding up her glass.
‘Absolutely. To Alistair Wood, his adorable son, Taylor, and very elegant grandmother, Beatrice.’
As they clinked glasses, Emma said, ‘So what’s he actually like, Mr Alistair? Young, old, short, fat?’
Polly’s eyes twinkled mischievously. ‘If I said George Clooney,’ she responded, fanning a hand.
Emma’s jaw dropped. ‘No way.’
‘OK, not quite, but to quote my darling daughter, he actually is pretty fit in a medium-height, fair-haired, blue-eyed sort of way, or they might be green, who knows? He dresses well – a really expensive-looking suit, and I bet his overcoat was cashmere.’
‘Age?’
‘I’d put him at mid-thirties, maybe a bit older.’
‘And what does he actually do?’
‘Apparently he runs, might even own, for all I know, a financial services company based in Bristol.’
Emma’s eyes nearly popped. ‘So he’s loaded. He has to be to have stepped in like that. Did you find out what’s happened to Mrs Wood?’
‘No, it wasn’t that sort of meeting. We just talked business and a bit about Taylor and then he left.’
‘Didn’t you offer him a drink?’
‘Of course, but he declined because he was driving. However,’ she drew the word out like a drum roll, ‘he did say, “perhaps another time”.’
Emma nearly smashed her glass as she clapped.
‘He was being polite,’ Polly laughed, ‘so don’t let’s get carried away.’
‘No, let’s.’
‘Oh, all right then – but actually, he’s way too young for me.’
Emma could hardly believe it. ‘Are you serious? What’s age got to do with anything?’ She wasn’t really thinking about Philip Leesom, at least she was trying not to.
‘Nothing, really, does it?’ Polly replied with a dreamy sigh. ‘Would it surprise you to hear that Melissa’s already trying to decide where we should go on our first date?’
Emma wanted to cheer. ‘Good for her,’ she laughed. ‘Of course, you know why the girls are so keen for us to meet someone, don’t you?’
‘I do. So they won’t have to worry about us being on our own when they’ve flown the nest. And they want us to be happy, naturally.’ Polly took a sip of her drink as the prospect of their girls going seemed to sober the moment. ‘It’ll be quite something for you, having a daughter at the Guildhall,’ she commented.
‘Provided she gets the grades,’ Emma responded. ‘But she works so hard and it really matters to her to do well. It does to Melissa too.’
‘Mm, she doesn’t always seem quite as dedicated as Lauren, but I’m sure she’ll be fine in the end, unless she manages to get a recording contract, or one of her YouTube postings pays off. We can probably kiss goodbye to exams if that happens. She’s looking forward to Lauren coming home this weekend.’
‘Mm, me too,’ Emma responded, ‘but no doubt they’ll be off to some nightclub or party so I wonder how much I’ll actually see of her.’
‘As far as I’m aware they’re torn at the moment between meeting up with friends at the Lizard Lounge, or going to a twenty-first birthday down in Cheddar, I think. Or there’s some band playing the Colston Hall they’re interested in, if they can get tickets. And by the time the weekend comes round I’m sure there’ll be half a dozen other options to be considered.’ She pulled a face. ‘Meanwhile, what do we do, sit here and grow old?’
Chuckling, Emma said, ‘Speaking personally, I shall almost certainly be a bag of nerves wondering if I’ve got the job, because I’ll have had my interview by then, and who knows,’ her eyes sparkled, ‘you might be out on your first date with the dashing Mr Wood.’
Polly laughed. ‘Yeah, really.’ Then after a pause, ‘I think we ought to see about finding someone for you, though. Someone gorgeous and rich and hopelessly romantic ...’
Still trying hard not to think of Philip Leesom, Emma said, ‘No, no, please don’t let’s even go there. I don’t mind pretending to Lauren that I’m up for meeting someone, but honest to God, all I really want for the next few years is the tranquillity, the utter bliss, of a totally man-free zone.’
Russ was having another of his regular chats with Oliver’s voicemail. ‘Hi, it’s Dad,’ he was saying, ‘I know you’re avoiding me, but I don’t want things to stay like this between us, so I’m sorry about what happened on Tuesday. Please call me back when you get this message so we can talk.’
After clicking off the line he turned to Charlie for approval.
‘Not bad,’ Charlie commented, his normally serious brown eyes showing glints of humour. ‘No guarantees he’ll ring, because he’s definitely in a weird place right now ... It’s like he’s angry with you because he can’t make you proud of him, so he’s telling himself the best thing is not to have anything to do with you, then he won’t keep feeling like he’s letting you down.’
Both exasperated and concerned, Russ said, ‘I’ve never thought he’s letting me down, I hope you told him that. He works hard and he’s done well, but I just don’t get much sense of him trying to find a job – or understanding that the world isn’t sitting back waiting to make Oliver Lomax’s dreams come true.’
‘That’s not what he thinks, and he is trying where a job’s concerned, he just doesn’t always tell you about it.’
‘Why the hell not?’
‘Because if it doesn’t work out you’ll think he’s a failure. Honest, Dad, you’re not giving him enough space. He’s got ideas and ambitions and he’s definitely not a slouch.’
‘I’ve never said he is, but he has to toughen up, Charlie. Nothing’s easy for kids nowadays ...’
‘He knows that. He’s living it, for Christ’s sake. We all are in our own ways ...’ He looked down as his mobile bleeped. ‘It’s him,’ he said, opening the text.
I know you’re with Dad. Tell him I don’t need his help. I can sort things out for myself.
After reading it, Russ sighed heavily and passed the phone back.
‘Give him some time,’ Charlie advised. ‘He’s OK staying at Alfie’s and Mum’s for a while and he’ll come round in the end, he always does.’
‘This is my point,’ Russ growled, ‘storming off in a sulk is not the kind of behaviour I’d hoped to
be seeing in him at this age. I’m sorry to say it, but your mother spoiled him. Of course, I blame myself for letting it happen. I had a better handle on things with you, and look at you, you’ve got yourself together ...’
‘Dad, don’t make comparisons. Oliver and I are totally different, and it doesn’t help him one bit to be made to feel as though I’m always coming out on top and he’s always second best.’
Annoyed with himself for not seeming able to hit this right, Russ said, ‘OK, I get that and I’m sorry, but it doesn’t change the fact that I should have insisted on him being a weekly boarder, the way you were, because with how often I was away ... Well, your mother babied him, she let him get away with things I never would have if I’d been here.’
‘There’s no point tearing yourself up about it now, what’s done is done, and it’s not as though he’s in trouble or giving you the kind of grief other parents have to go through. So why not just accept that advertising and marketing’s his thing, it’s what he wants to do, not work with you ...’
‘I’m not saying he has to work with me for ever.’
‘I know, but he’s feeling the need to prove himself, so let him try.’
Russ looked into his son’s kind, intelligent eyes and felt a rush of fatherly love mingle with gratitude and pride. ‘You’ve got enough going on with your exams coming up without having to deal with all this,’ he sighed.
Charlie shrugged. ‘Well, I kind of got that you weren’t managing without me, so I thought I’d better take a couple of days out.’
Russ’s eyes shone with humour as he said, ‘So how did you find your mother while you were there? Is she really on the wagon?’
Charlie frowned as he stared down at his empty coffee cup. ‘Hard to tell,’ he answered. ‘I didn’t see her actually having a drink, but we all know how good she is at hiding it in tea or coffee, or whatever else she’s got in her mug. What really got me was the way she keeps coming out with the weirdest stuff, like you’re having two conversations at once, and neither one of them makes much sense. She does it on the phone, and she wasn’t any better when I was there.’
Worried too, Russ picked up their cups and went to refill them from the machine. ‘I’ve been thinking about letting her come home for a while,’ he admitted, feeling horribly weighted by the words since they were taking him a step closer to committing to the very thing he didn’t want to do. ‘I don’t know how much good it’ll do in the long run, but I guess we can’t let her go on like this. It’s got a lot worse since she moved out.’
Watching his father return to the bar, Charlie said, ‘If she weren’t my mother I’d tell you to forget it. It’s time you had a life without her drunken rampages wearing you down, and the way she accuses you of stuff you’ve never even thought about doing, never mind done. I bet this time on your own has felt a bit like coming out of prison, you’re free to be you, do what you want, speak to whoever you want ... The trouble is, she is my mother and like you, I can’t just ignore the way she is.’
Understanding that perfectly, while appreciating the empathy, Russ said, ‘So basically you’re agreeing, I should let her come back?’
Charlie pulled a face. ‘It has to be your decision.’
‘Does Oliver have an opinion on it?’
Charlie sighed. ‘I think he’s with me in that for her sake he’d rather she was here, but for yours ... Well, he knows what it’s like for you.’
Hating the fact that his boys were having to deal with their parents struggling like this, when they needed to be concentrating on their own futures, Russ said, ‘Does she still think I’m having an affair with Angie?’
Charlie shook his head. ‘She didn’t mention it specifically, but she seems to have convinced herself you’re seeing someone – but, as Oliver said, nothing new there.’
No, definitely nothing new there, and feeling thankful all over again that Sylvie knew nothing about Fiona, he was about to offer to buy Charlie some lunch at the pub when the front door opened and Toyah, the office manager, came surging into the kitchen. She was short, sporty-looking, with huge apple cheeks, black-rimmed glasses and raven-coloured hair that was styled in what Sylvie unkindly described as a pudding cut.
‘Hey, Charlie,’ she said busily. ‘Saw your car. How’s things?’
‘Great, thanks. You?’
‘Yeah, cool. Russ, sorry to butt in, but loads going on. First up, I transferred five grand to the GA account, like you said, and everyone was primed for the next round, but then the local news came on and I thought I’d better pull it.’
Baffled, and slightly alarmed, Russ said, ‘Go on.’
‘Graham’s rewinding now ready for you to watch. You’d better come over.’
‘This is sounding ominous,’ Charlie commented, getting up to follow.
‘Is it?’ Russ asked Toyah.
Looking awkward, she said, ‘Yeah and no. I guess you’ll have to decide, but I don’t think you’re going to like it too much. Or you,’ she added to Charlie.
Minutes later Russ and Charlie were standing in front of a large HD monitor in the stable-block offices watching a playback of Sylvie, sitting on the sofa in her Clifton apartment, looking not entirely sober and sounding even less so as she confided her secret to a rapt reporter.
As he listened Russ could feel the heat of embarrassment spreading through him, along with anger and a growing concern for her mental health. Mercifully she wasn’t accusing him of hiding something about Mandie Morgan, instead she was ranting on about how he was financing the mysterious golden angels who were swooping on supermarkets paying people’s grocery bills.
‘But you are not to think he is doing this out of kindness for anyone,’ she was almost slurring, ‘he is doing it because it will give him good publicity when he is launching a major new programme.’
Charlie glanced at his father, as Russ said, ‘She doesn’t know what the hell she’s talking about.’
‘So you see,’ Sylvie continued, ‘my husband is not the great benefactor everyone thinks is behind the golden angels, he is doing this only for selfish motives and I think it is important for people to know that.’
‘Is she going to tell them that it was Granny Lomax’s idea?’ Charlie demanded. ‘And that Dad’s using the money she left him to make it happen?’
‘No, she doesn’t say that,’ Graham responded.
Russ signalled for Toyah to switch it off.
‘All calls are going through to voicemail at the moment,’ Graham informed him, ‘but there have already been a few concerning this.’
‘I can’t work out what she hopes to gain by it,’ Toyah commented, glancing at Angie, who shook her head, showing she was equally mystified.
‘I don’t expect she can either,’ Russ told them, ‘except the sweet revenge of trying to paint me in a bad light.’
‘But how on earth is it going to do that?’ Toyah wanted to know. ‘I mean, so what if you were doing it for publicity reasons, which you’re not, people are still getting their bills paid and that’s all they’ll care about.’
‘Charlie’s just pointed out the reason I’m doing it,’ Russ declared, ‘but you all know it anyway, so I can’t take credit for anything. My mother even came up with the name.’
‘So how do you want to handle it?’ Graham asked. ‘The press are obviously going to expect some sort of statement.’
After giving it some thought, Russ turned to Charlie. ‘Do you want to take it?’ he offered.
Surprised, Charlie said, ‘What, you mean speak on your behalf? Sure, I can do that, if you want me to.’
‘OK, then let’s rough something out that tells Granny’s story, and says that we’re sorry it’s come out, because she always thought that the mystery element of it was part of what people would find so enjoyable.’
‘What do you want me to say about Mum?’ Charlie asked.
Russ pulled a hand over his chin as he thought. ‘If at all possible, don’t mention her at all, which I appreciate is going to
be difficult, but the last thing we want is to turn this into some sort of public slanging match.’
Chapter Seven
IN A HURRY to leave for her interview, Emma quickly shut down her computer, checked she’d put the iron away, locked the back door, gave up the search for her gloves and ran into the sitting room to turn off the TV. Having missed the first part of the lunchtime news, she still wasn’t any wiser about who was behind the golden angels scheme. She had gathered that the benefactor had been revealed, but since the names probably wouldn’t have meant anything to her anyway, she wasn’t going to waste any time on it.
Nothing mattered right now, apart from getting this job.
Grabbing her attaché case from the foot of the stairs, an item she hadn’t used in almost a year, and that had required rescuing from a coating of cobwebs when she’d retrieved it from a box yet to be unpacked, she zipped it up and jammed it comfortably under her arm. Being of a high-end designer brand it had been easily restored to its former glory and was able, she hoped, to lend her a professional and successful air, in spite of having next to nothing in it. Maybe she should pop in her laptop. Come to think of it, she probably ought to be wowing them with a PowerPoint presentation – it was what people did these days. Oh God, she was so out of date, but it was a bit late to be thinking about it now. How could this not have occurred to her before? However, no one from the agency had mentioned it, so presumably, hopefully, it wasn’t necessary. Nor was the iPad she longed to own, though it might have made her seem a little more impressive if she had one.
Deciding to take Lauren’s car instead of her older and slightly dented Honda (not her fault, white-van man had pulled out straight in front of her so she hadn’t stood a chance), she buttoned up her coat, unhooked the keys and took an enormous, steadying breath to set herself on her way. Fortunately there should be no question of getting lost, since she’d already driven the route twice to be sure of the way, and if there were any hold-ups such as roadworks or accidents, that shouldn’t be a problem either, because she was allowing an hour for a journey that shouldn’t really take much more than twenty minutes.