by A. E. Radley
Emily followed behind him and lightly slapped his arm. “Ha-ha. Tea would be great, thank you.”
“Nicole’s in with Olivia at the moment,” Simon explained as he set down the baking dish and started to make the tea.
Emily leaned back against the counter, trying to look casual. “So…Nicole’s?”
“A friend from London. I called her because she’s the closest thing Olivia has to family. Well, family she cares about, anyway.”
“And she’s…” Emily trailed off as she wondered how to ask the question that was on her lips.
“Straight. No competition,” Simon answered with a wide grin.
“Simon!” Emily admonished, looking around to check they were alone.
He laughed. “Oh, come on. You two are dancing around each other, and it’s exhausting.”
Emily folded her arms and looked away, but a smile remained on her face.
“I know a lot has happened between you,” Simon continued, “but my last count was that you couldn’t be with Olivia because you were focused on Henry’s recovery. But seeing him in that play area the other day makes me think he is pretty much recovered.”
She picked up the dish and placed it in the fridge. “I do want to…” Emily felt her voice give out at the admission. She coughed lightly and continued, “I just don’t know if, well…Olivia’s been distant. I know I haven’t exactly been fair to her lately, and I don’t want to hurt her more.”
Simon regarded her seriously. “Look, I think—”
“I need a list of everyone who has visited Olivia in the last twenty-four hours,” Nicole announced as she hurried into the kitchen. “Sorry to interrupt. Hello, Emily.”
“Problem?” Simon asked.
Nicole held up Emily’s script. “This is fantastic. What’s more, it’s been added to since I last picked it up yesterday. And this is only part one. There must be a part two floating around out there. And I need to find it.”
“That’s mine,” Emily confessed.
Nicole turned to her with a wide smile. “Yours? As in, you wrote this?”
Emily nodded.
Nicole opened the script. “And these additions are yours?”
Emily nodded again.
“We haven’t been properly introduced. I’m Nicole Blake, theatre producer.” Nicole held out her hand, and Emily promptly shook it. “Can I take your agent’s contact details?”
“Agent?” Emily spluttered out a laugh. “I don’t have an agent.”
“Emily’s not a professional writer,” Simon added.
“Oh,” Nicole replied with a shrug. “Do you want to be?”
“Is this a joke?” Emily asked bluntly.
Nicole chuckled. “Not at all. I’m always looking for fresh new ideas, and this is wonderful. And the amendments—it was good before, but the changes are phenomenal. Then I got to the end and realised there was a second part. Please tell me that there is a second part.”
“There is,” Emily confirmed. “I wrote it years ago. I can e-mail it over to you if you like?”
“Absolutely. Just let me get my card.” Nicole left the kitchen.
Emily turned to Simon, silently requesting some kind of an explanation.
“Nicole works for a group of London theatres. She’s an award-winning producer,” he offered.
“One in need of fresh material,” Nicole added as she came back into the room, handing Emily her business card as she did. “I’m always on the lookout for new scripts.”
Emily looked at the business card and nodded nervously. “I’ll send you the second half this evening.”
“Thank you so much. I’m dying to know what happens next. Have you been writing for long?” Simon waved a mug in Nicole’s direction and she nodded. “Yes, please, Simon.”
Nicole took a seat at the kitchen table, and Emily did the same.
“I’ve always enjoyed writing. When my son was young, he was very sick, so there was a lot of waiting around in hospitals.”
“Yes, Olivia mentioned. Is your son well now?”
Emily couldn’t help the smile that crept across her face. “Yes, he is much better. Like a different little boy. You wouldn’t know he’d been so ill.”
Simon placed two mugs of tea on the table and both women thanked him.
“So, you primarily wrote when you were with him in hospital?” Nicole asked.
“Yes. At home too, but that’s where I really managed to get a lot done. When there is nothing else you can do, and you’re desperate for distraction, it’s amazing what you can accomplish.”
“Amazing is the word; I don’t think I could write that quality under those circumstances.”
Emily felt a blush rising on her cheeks. “Oh, it’s nothing. It’s really not that good.”
“I disagree. You’re very talented.”
Emily shook her head. She wrapped her hands around her mug, grateful for something to hold on to. “Are you sure Olivia isn’t putting you up to this?”
Nicole and Simon shared a look and both smiled.
“What?” Emily asked, feeling left out of a private joke.
“Olivia refuses to go to any of Nicole’s productions. She doesn’t get them. At all,” Simon explained.
“Hates them, is more the word,” Nicole added. “She frequently tells me that she doesn’t get what’s happening. If Olivia had liked your manuscript, I would have instantly turned it down. In fact, Olivia will hate this.” Nicole flipped through the pages and smiled. “The scene where the main character speaks to the audience? She’d throw a fit at that.”
Emily smiled. That did sound like Olivia. Her mobile phone rang, and she lowered her mug of tea. “I’m sorry, excuse me,” she apologised as she stepped into the living room and took the call.
“Lucy?”
“Henry’s fine,” Lucy replied immediately. “I just had the weirdest phone call though.”
“Oh?” Emily asked, sitting on the arm of the sofa.
“Irene Brennan just called. She wants to talk to you and me. She says she only has a short window of time, and she wants to meet us for coffee in the city.”
Emily frowned. “I don’t understand. Why?”
“I don’t either, but she seemed genuine and determined. It’s just her, not Seb.”
“I suppose we should go, but what about Henry? I don’t want to take him; I know I’m being paranoid, but—”
“I know, I know,” Lucy reassured. “I phoned a couple of friends, but they can’t take him on such short notice.”
“Did you try Angela?”
“Yes, and Caroline.”
“There must be someone who can sit Henry for a couple of hours?” Emily said as she wracked her brain.
“Sorry to eavesdrop.” Simon poked his head around the corner. “Can I help?”
Emily looked up at him and smiled in relief. “Would you be okay to watch Henry for a couple of hours?”
“Absolutely.”
“Lucy, can you bring him here to the hotel? Simon can watch him.”
She gave Lucy the address, hung up the phone, and turned to Simon. “You’re a lifesaver.”
“Yeah, I know. I am pretty great.” Simon winked. “What’s going on?”
“Irene, Henry’s grandmother, wants to meet me and Lucy. Alone.”
“Weird.”
“Who’s Irene and Lucy?” Nicole asked as she stepped out of the kitchen. “Sorry, I’m dreadfully nosey.”
Emily chuckled. “Lucy is my best friend. I live with her and her husband.”
“Oh, the nervous chicken pie baker.” Nicole looked to Simon and pointed her head towards the kitchen.
“That’s the one,” Emily confirmed. “Irene is my son’s estranged grandmother. His grandparents have been trying to gain custody of him. But now she wants to meet us and says she only has a short window of time.”
“Interesting,” Nicole commented. “Sounds important. Does this mean I get to meet the legendary Henry?”
Emily smiled.
“Yes, Lucy will drop him off here. Thank you so much, Simon.”
“Does he know about Olivia?” Simon asked.
“No.” Emily shook her head. “He would have demanded to come and see her immediately if he knew something was wrong. Probably best to tell him that she’s got a cold and is sleeping. Then he’ll be quiet and won’t try to bother her.”
“Cool.” Simon nodded. “So, I’ll order a curry and we’ll have a few pints, play Grand Theft Auto, and you’ll be back in no time, right?”
Emily smirked at him. “Lucy will bring him some plain cheese sandwiches, and he’ll probably ask you to do some colouring with him. Try not to corrupt my son too much in a couple of hours, please?”
Simon sighed and playfully rolled his eyes. “Fine, have it your way.”
CHAPTER 31
Emily and Lucy sat in the busy coffee shop, nervously looking around at the various people coming and going. It was a generic chain. One where the door was opening every few seconds, and each time Emily turned to see if it was Irene.
“Are you sure she meant this one?” Emily asked.
“Yes. She made me write it down and confirmed the address twice.” Lucy angled her head to look around the crowded shop. “She wanted to meet alone, so maybe she has to make some excuse to get away from Seb?”
“Or maybe this is just part of some elaborate plan?”
“Pessimist.” Lucy sighed.
“Realist,” Emily corrected.
“She’s here.” Lucy indicated the door with a nod of her head, and Emily turned around.
Irene was wearing large sunglasses and a scarf that she’d folded up to obscure her face. She looked uncomfortable and nervous, wary even, as she scanned the shop. After a moment, she weaved through the crowds towards the small table they’d managed to secure.
“Thank you for meeting me here,” she said softly as she sat down, still glancing around fretfully.
“Is everything okay?” Lucy asked, also inspecting the other patrons more closely. Irene’s suspicion seemed to be catching.
“I don’t want to be seen.” Irene let out a nervous sigh. She looked at Emily. “As you know, my husband hired a private detective to follow you, and now I’m paranoid he’s having me followed.”
“Why?” Emily asked.
Irene fidgeted with her scarf for a moment before letting out a deep breath. “Because I’m leaving him.”
“Oh.” Emily couldn’t think of anything else to say. While Irene had always been the quieter of the two, she’d been absolutely certain that they were in it together. The news that Irene was at odds with Seb was both interesting and surprising. She briefly wondered if she would now be fighting two separate custody battles before feeling guilty at immediately thinking of herself. But it was impossible not to. This breakup would clearly affect her and Henry; she just didn’t know how.
“He doesn’t know yet.” Irene took one last look over her shoulder. “Well, I don’t think he does.”
“Do you want to go somewhere else?” Lucy offered. “If you feel it’s not safe for you here?”
Irene shook her head. “No. Thank you, but no. Everywhere feels equally unsafe. Seb…he didn’t used to be like this…” She took a deep breath. “He’s changed a lot over the last ten years. Maybe more. He’s never been a saint, that much I always knew. But he used to be kinder, more caring. All that seems to have vanished. Now he’ll do anything, absolutely anything, to get what he wants.” She lifted a shaky hand and removed her sunglasses. “He’s relentless in crushing anyone he sees as competition. It used to be work-related, but since he retired, well, he’ll pick a fight with anyone.”
“Like me.” Emily sipped her coffee.
“Yes. But I can’t fully blame him for that,” Irene admitted. “I…I spoke about Henry. Often. I always wondered how he was and what was happening.” She reached forward, picked up a spare napkin from the table, and held on to it tightly. “After we lost the initial court case, Seb forbade me from contacting you. I hoped that if I told him I was wondering about Henry, he would relent and allow me to get in touch with you. To see Henry from time to time.” She brought her other hand up and twisted the napkin tightly as she spoke. “He’s the only thing I have left of my own boy.” Tears spilled over her eyelids as she stared at Emily, unblinking.
The sorrow she could see in Irene’s eyes cut Emily’s soul in two and brought back every tear she’d shed after Joe’s death, every moment of worry over Henry’s illness. Every time she’d received a call, and the thought that Henry was no longer with her had flittered across her mind. She’d been lucky and never had to live the reality of that pain. Irene had. It didn’t matter that Joe was a grown man when he’d died. He was still her boy, her baby. Her only son.
“Instead of what I wanted, he contacted a private detective. That despicable little man found out about your financial trouble, and Seb knew that he could see a way for us to win. To get custody of Henry. I didn’t want that; I truly didn’t. You’re his mother, you’ve taken good care of him despite the difficulties, and you clearly love him. He should be with you. I hoped that I’d be able to convince Seb of the same thing.”
Emily wanted to believe her. She wanted to trust that everything she could see in Irene’s eyes—eyes that reminded her so much of Joe—was the truth. But how could she take that chance? It was Henry’s future she was talking about. Henry’s life. She couldn’t afford to blindly trust, to leap without looking, no matter how genuine Irene seemed. She needed more. “I don’t mean to be rude,” Emily started, “but how do I know you aren’t just saying this now your case isn’t as strong as it was?”
“I don’t expect you to believe me. At least not straightaway. I know that trust has to be earned, but I hope in time I can convince you of my good intentions. Which is one of the reasons why I’m here. I have to warn you about Seb’s latest plan.”
Lucy and Emily exchanged a concerned look.
“Seb believes that Olivia Lewis paid off your debts in return for information from within Marcus’s company, and he’s convinced Marcus it’s true.”
“What?” Emily shouted before quickly lowering her voice again. “What? That’s crazy. If I could actually speak to someone and defend myself, I could prove that—”
“I know you’re innocent.” Irene held up her hand. “I suspected as much and Seb as much as confirmed it. He didn’t want to spell it out to me, but I’m convinced he bribed someone in Marcus’s office to frame you.”
Emily’s mouth dropped open in astonishment.
“Why would he do that?” Lucy asked.
“To win. He’ll do anything. He’s…obsessed and unscrupulous. It was the last straw for me. I’ve been thinking about leaving for a while, but I stepped up my plans. I don’t want any part of this.”
“You said Seb has a plan?” Emily questioned.
“Yes. Seb knew that Marcus would be livid if he found out that Olivia was getting information about his business. There’s a lot of history between them, and Seb knew that convincing Marcus of a connection would push him to take action. He knew Marcus would retaliate, and now they’re planning to submit anonymous complaints of financial misconduct at Olivia’s firm.”
Lucy let out a gasp and covered her mouth in shock. Emily gave her a quick look to silently convey that she didn’t want Irene knowing about Olivia’s current state of health. Lucy seemed to get the message and gently inclined her head.
Irene continued, “Marcus used to work with Olivia and has insider information. He knows exactly what to submit a complaint about. Seb’s playing him too, for his own ends. Seb was furious that Olivia threatened him and wanted to, as he said, teach her a lesson. I’m not sure if there is anything that can be done, but I wanted to warn you.”
“Why now?” Emily asked. “You have to agree that this all looks suspicious. Just as your case is losing ground, you suddenly want to help me.”
Irene nodded. “I understand your concerns; I’d be the same if our positions
were reversed. I was wrong to stay with him, to stand by his side. To be honest, I was too scared to leave him before. But now I see what levels he will stoop to…I don’t want Henry to grow up anywhere near Seb.”
“That makes two of us,” Emily replied.
“Which is another reason I’m leaving him. Once I leave, he’ll drop the case. And if he doesn’t, it’ll be thrown out because there is no way he could care for Henry alone.”
“You want to see Henry,” Lucy assumed.
“Yes.” Irene nodded. “I…I want a chance to learn to be a grandmother to him. I know I failed Joe terribly. I didn’t protect him from Seb and his temper. I want another chance to do right by my son. I don’t expect you to trust me, not yet. As I say, I know trust isn’t handed out so freely.”
Emily let out a sigh. Her mind was spinning; it felt as if the ground was constantly shifting underneath her. She longed for her flight attendant days, the security of knowing what was going to happen and when. Everything ran like clockwork. These last few weeks had been a rollercoaster of emotions. Now she was looking at Irene, a woman with an enormous weight on her shoulders, and thinking she’d misjudged her. She wanted to reach out an olive branch, but knew she had to be cautious.
“I appreciate you coming to us with this, really I do.” Emily nervously played with the mug in front of her. “But, you’re right, trust isn’t something I can give out so easily. Joe told me a lot about his upbringing…”
“I was a terrible mother,” Irene admitted.
“Terrible is a strong word,” Emily attempted to soften the blow.
“I’d always been under my own mother’s control. She was very strict, and I wanted to get away from her. So I married Seb when I was just eighteen.” She laughed bitterly. “Out of the frying pan and into the fire, as they say. I’d hardly even dated before him, and I really didn’t have much time to develop into my own person. When Joe came along, I just listened to what my mother and Seb told me and took it as gospel. It was easier than trying to fight them both all the time. I was too young and too weak to be the mother my son deserved.” She dabbed at her eyes with the screwed- up napkin. “I won’t fail my Joe again by not being strong enough to stop Seb from doing to Henry what he did to my boy.” She sniffed and balled the tissue into her fist. “I will not let him steal the light from his eyes too.” Irene looked down at her sunglasses on the table. “There’s not a day that goes by that I don’t wish I could go back and do everything differently. It’s only recently, with age, that I’m finally realising there is a whole world out there. A world for me—and not the me that is simply an appendage to my mother or my husband.”