Being Emerald (Skimmerdale Book 2)

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Being Emerald (Skimmerdale Book 2) Page 37

by Sharon Booth


  Jed glared at her. 'We all make mistakes when we're stressed, Emerald. It's quite clear that Eden only did what she thought was right. She was trying to help. And she didn't go through with it, did she?'

  Huh! Only because Eliot turned up and stopped her, thought Emerald, annoyed that Jed had called her by her full name. She was always Emmy to him. What was he so mad at her for? Typical.

  Eden sipped her tea and Jed sat with her, talking to her for what seemed like ages. Emerald got quite bored and headed back into the living room to watch television. At least she'd got control of the remote for once.

  Her mind kept wandering away from her favourite reality show to Eliot's whereabouts. Where would he go, and did he intend to come back at all tonight? She couldn't imagine him staying out too late. She grinned to herself. He was hardly the type to head to the city and drown his sorrows in gin while watching a lap dance in some seedy club. That was more her father's style.

  After a couple of hours, Jed came through and sat down on the sofa with a heavy sigh.

  'You haven't left her all alone in the kitchen!' Emerald clasped a hand to her chest in mock horror.

  Jed frowned. 'Don't be so mean, Emmy. She's had a shock.'

  'And Eliot hasn't? I don't get why you're on her side, after what she did.'

  'If you listened to her, you'd know that it's not what he thought. Yeah, she made a mistake, but she was putting it right, and she only did what she thought would help him. She was scared for him. They're in an impossible situation, Em, you must see that? They're both under massive pressure, and they're petrified of losing that kid. Eliot's not thinking straight. If he was, he wouldn't have flown off the handle like that. I mean, that was a massive overreaction, right?'

  Emerald shrugged. 'Not really.'

  'Oh, come on!' Jed sighed. 'Anyway, Eden's worn herself out worrying and crying, so she's gone to bed.' He glanced at his watch. 'I don't think Eliot will be back tonight, do you?'

  'But where would he go?'

  He pulled a face. 'Who knows? Probably sleeping in his car to prove a point. Hopefully tomorrow he'll have come to his senses and he'll come home and apologise.'

  'I don't see why he should.'

  'Oh, Emerald.' Jed sounded so disappointed in her that she felt quite miserable. 'Look, I've had a long day. I'm going to bed, too. Night, Emmy.'

  'Night, Jed.'

  Emerald curled up in the armchair with Bella on her knee and turned her attentions back to the television. Two heavily made-up walking mannequins with nails like talons were screeching abuse at each other, hurling accusations of infidelity and betrayal, while a rather gormless looking young man watched, visibly puffing up with pride as the two harpies fought for him. Emerald turned the television off, wondering why she'd ever thought the programme interesting. It was all so shallow and pointless.

  For no accountable reason, she found herself wondering how little Tiggy was getting on, now she was out in the lower fields. The ewes who'd had healthy, single lambs were up on the moors with their offspring, but Eliot said he liked to keep the lambs who'd had problems, or who were one of twins or triplets, closer to the house with their mothers, so he could keep an eye on them. As she idly stroked Bella's sleeping form, she wondered when she'd retained all that information. It wasn't as if it was important was it?

  She must have dozed off, because when the telephone rang she jolted, not quite sure where she was for a moment. Remembering that Eliot was missing, she carefully placed Bella on the armchair and rushed into the hallway and grabbed the phone before it could wake up anyone else in the house.

  'Is that Eden?' An anxious-sounding voice came through the receiver. Emerald could picture its owner — middle-aged, female, Yorkshire born and bred judging by the broad accent.

  'No, it's Emerald. Eden's in bed. Who is this?'

  'Oh, dear. It's Liz Thompson here, love.'

  'Who?'

  'I look after George for Eden and Eliot.'

  'Oh, the childminder in Ravensbridge.' Emerald's mind cleared, and she nodded. Then she realised the time and frowned. 'What do you want at this time of night?'

  'I really wanted to speak to Eden. It's about Eliot. I'm right worried about him.'

  'Worried?' Emerald's heart sped up. 'What's wrong with him?'

  'Oh, nothing bad, love. At least, not yet. I've been out with my husband for a few drinks to celebrate our wedding anniversary. Thirty-five years, can you believe it?'

  If she was waiting for Emerald to congratulate her she would be disappointed. Emerald tapped the receiver impatiently. 'And?'

  'Well, Eliot were there. In the pub. Now, I'm not saying this to gossip because I never do, as anyone who knows me will tell you, but he were on the whisky, and it looked to me like he were already the worse for wear when we left. Not like Eliot at all. He doesn't really drink, does he? Anyway, I can't settle, thinking about it. Bob — that's my husband — thinks it's none of our business, but I noticed Eliot's Land Rover parked in the pub car park, and I wouldn't want him driving home in that state. Not that I think he would, of course,' she added hastily, 'but you never know, do you? Not when drink's involved.'

  Emerald shuddered at the thought. 'Where is he? Which pub?'

  'It's The Green Dragon in Ravensbridge,' Mrs Thompson told her. 'So, will you tell Eden? I think maybe he needs her.'

  'Yes, yes I'll tell her. Thanks for letting us know.'

  'No problem, love, and you will make sure he knows I only told you for his own good? I wouldn't want him to think I was interfering.'

  'I'll tell him,' Emerald assured her.

  She replaced the receiver and glanced up the stairs, wondering if anyone had heard, but all was quiet. She guessed Eden was worn out with crying. Emerald had cried herself to sleep enough times in the past to know how exhausting it could be. There was no deeper sleep than that of the heartbroken.

  Emerald grabbed her jacket and shoes from the boot room and crept into the kitchen. Rummaging in the drawer, she found Eden's car keys and let herself out the back way, crossing the farmyard to where Eden's little Nissan was parked.

  Ravensbridge was nearly ten miles from the farm and, unfortunately, it was the location of the nearest police station. It wouldn't do Eliot any good if he risked driving home. She couldn't imagine he would be stupid or selfish enough, but then, alcohol could do strange things to people. She hoped, if he tried, someone in the pub would take his keys from him if she didn't get there in time.

  Eden's sat nav was in her glove compartment, or Emerald would probably never have found the way to the village, but eventually she passed the sign that announced she was entering Ravensbridge and began to look out for The Green Dragon.

  It wasn't difficult to find. It was one of the buildings which clustered around the village green, and Emerald parked up in the car park round the back, relieved to see Eliot's Land Rover was still there.

  When she entered the pub, she couldn't see him at first. It was quite dark inside. The Green Dragon was old, with dark wooden beams and a slate floor, and lots of cosy little nooks and crannies. It was almost closing time, the pub was half-empty, and for a moment, she wondered if he'd been daft enough to try to walk home, or if he'd maybe called a taxi. Then she spotted him, tucked away in a corner, head down, staring into a half-empty glass of whisky.

  'Eliot! What on earth do you think you're playing at?' She plonked herself down on the seat opposite his and, rather daringly, placed her hand over his. He didn't shake it off but looked up at her rather dazedly. For a moment or two he seemed to have trouble focusing, then his face cleared, and he gave her a beaming smile that made her heart leap.

  'Emmy! What are you doing here?'

  Emmy! She felt ridiculously excited to hear him call her that. Only Jed had ever called her it before, but it took on a whole new meaning when Eliot said it. 'I've come to take you home,' she said. 'I was worried you'd try to drive.'

  He frowned at her. 'Why would I drive? That's bad. Bad things can happen. Do you
know, my wife died in a car crash?'

  Emerald nodded soothingly. 'Yes, I know. It was all very tragic.'

  'It was, it was.' He rubbed his forehead. 'I'd never drive after — after drinking this stuff,' he added, jabbing a finger at the whisky. He leaned towards her. 'I've booked a room,' he whispered, putting a finger to his lips as if to signify that it was a huge secret.

  Emerald thought that was a rather wonderful piece of news. 'Have you? Where?'

  He leaned back again, surveying her in bewilderment. 'Where do you think? Here!' He nodded towards the ceiling. 'Up there. Can't go home, can I? What is there to go home to?'

  'Eden? Your children? Your farm?' Even as she said it, Emerald wondered why she hadn't agreed with him outright. It would have been to her advantage, she was sure, but he looked so bloody miserable.

  Eliot downed the rest of the whisky. 'Not going home,' he said. 'Can't go home.'

  'Why can't you go home?'

  'I was — I said — I did it again.'

  'Did what again?'

  'Hurt her. Let me temper get the better of me. Like before. Stubborn bugger I am. Don't deserve her.'

  He blinked furiously, and Emerald wasn't sure if it was because he was trying to clear his thoughts or if he was blinking back tears. She hoped it was the first. The thought of Eliot crying made her depressed beyond words. She shuffled out of her seat and went to the bar to order a glass of wine.

  'Just in time,' the landlord said. 'I'm about to call last orders.'

  'Good-oh,' she said, taking the glass and hurrying back to the table, where Eliot was slumped dejectedly.

  'Cheers,' she said, raising her glass, not in the slightest bit surprised when he didn't respond.

  They sat there for another ten minutes or so, making stilted and mostly one-sided conversation until Emerald finished her wine. 'We have to leave the bar,' she told him at last. 'Do you think you can manage the stairs?'

  She heard several customers bid the landlord goodnight, and the door opened and closed a couple of times.

  'Eliot,' she said, when he still didn't answer her, 'shall I take you up to your room?'

  'I can manage,' he slurred, standing up and swaying alarmingly, almost knocking over the table in the process.

  The landlord hurried over to the table. 'Now then, sir, I'm about to close the bar, so I need you to get upstairs to your room.'

  'I'm going, I'm going,' Eliot assured him. He looked helplessly at Emerald. 'Where am I going?'

  'To your room,' Emerald stated. 'I'll take you.'

  The landlord looked her up and down. 'Are you staying with him, miss? Just that, he's only paid for one person.'

  Emerald fumbled in her jacket pocket and handed him the credit card Cain had given her. 'There. I'll pay. Now, do you mind if I get him upstairs, only, as you can see, he's rather the worse for wear.'

  'Right. You take him up and get him settled, then come down and we'll sort this payment out. I'll be locking up in the meantime.' The landlord gave her a beaming smile. Evidently, he had no interest in whether she should be spending the night in the same room as Eliot. Good job he hadn't booked into the pub in Beckthwaite. There'd have been no chance that Emerald could have shared a room with him there, since everyone knew he was half of a couple, and Eden was the other half.

  Between herself and the landlord, they managed to get Eliot to the foot of the stairs, then Emerald helped him up to the first floor while the landlord went off to get rid of the last of his customers.

  The room they'd been assigned was basic but clean and comfortable. Eliot had to bend his head to avoid banging it on the beams, but other than that it was fine. Besides, Emerald didn't think he'd be standing up for long. Sure enough, as soon as he spotted the double bed he practically fell onto it, and when she spoke to him there was no response whatsoever. Checking that he was breathing, she pushed him onto his side, just in case, then hurried downstairs to settle the bill.

  'Will you be requiring breakfast in the morning?' The landlord handed her the card and receipt with a smile.

  'Has Eliot ordered a breakfast?' she enquired.

  He shook his head. 'Said he would be out first thing, so no.'

  'Then no thank you,' she said, although she did think it would do Eliot good to have a lie in and something to eat. He was going to feel like shit in the morning. 'On second thoughts,' she said suddenly, 'put us both down for a breakfast. I've got a feeling he's going to need it.'

  The landlord laughed. 'Aye, I were thinking that an' all. Early start, my eye. I'll cook you two full English breakfasts and bring 'em up to your room. Shall we say seven-thirty?'

  Emerald considered the matter. 'Best make it eight.'

  He nodded. 'Fair enough. Goodnight then, Miss.'

  Emerald bid him goodnight and galloped up the stairs to the room, hoping Eliot hadn't recovered, and decided to call a taxi home after all. Thankfully he was still fast asleep.

  Now that she was here, Emerald was no longer so sure of her actions. Maybe she should have called Eden, after all? But she'd wanted to be the one to help. She couldn't deny that she'd hoped he would turn to her in his hour of need. Despite the recent downturn in their relationship, she wanted him. Knowing it would never happen hadn't changed that, whatever she'd said to James.

  She thought about the way she'd behaved recently, taking the fuse out of the plug in the fridge-freezer, writing those awful reviews. She'd thought it was for the best. She was helping a man get back the child he craved. He had no one else. Like her, James was alone in a family that didn't care about him or understand him. She'd wanted to put things right for him, but it hurt her more than she wanted to admit that she had to hurt Eliot to do so. If it hadn't been for her loathing of Eden, maybe she'd never have had the nerve to do it at all, James or no James. He'd assured her that the best chance he had of getting his son back was if the Harlands seemed unstable, not only financially but emotionally, too. It was weird that, just as Eliot and Eden seemed about to self-destruct, Emerald was having the most enormous attack of doubt and guilt. Was she doing the right thing, after all?

  She hesitated a moment, then took out her phone and called James, needing reassurance.

  'Hello?'

  'Emerald? Why are you whispering?'

  'Because Eliot's asleep,' she told him, eyeing the sleeping form on the bed nervously, and hoping this conversation wouldn't rouse him from his slumber.

  'Eliot? What are you talking about?'

  Briefly, Emerald filled him in on the events at the farm, and where she currently was, not to mention who with. James whooped with delight, so loudly that Emerald winced and pulled the phone away from her ear.

  'But this is marvellous. Don't you see? You've got the perfect chance to finish them off for good!'

  'I have? How?' Emerald couldn't see it herself. All right, they'd had an almighty bust-up earlier, but speaking to Eliot in the bar earlier, she'd been left in no doubt that he was ashamed of his actions, and more than ready to apologise for them. She thought — she hoped — they would sort it out tomorrow. Nothing felt right any more.

  'Don't you see?' James sounded quite impatient. 'You're spending the night with Harland! What do you think Eden's going to make of that?'

  'Nothing's going to happen,' Emerald said, almost wistfully. 'He's fast asleep and totally blotto on whisky. And of course,' she added 'I wouldn't do that sort of thing.'

  'Oh, of course.' James didn't sound too convinced. 'That's hardly the point, though, is it? It doesn't matter whether you have sex with him or not. It only matters that Eden thinks you did, and that shouldn't be too difficult, should it? He's spending the night with a beautiful blonde in his bed, for God's sake. Would you believe it was innocent?'

  Emerald felt a thrill of delight. Beautiful blonde? Was that how James saw her? 'Eliot will tell her the truth and she'll believe him,' she said flatly. 'They trust each other.'

  'But they've been rowing. People do stupid things when they're rowing. What were they rowin
g about, anyway?'

  Emerald thought it best not to mention his mother. If James didn't know, she wasn't going to tell him. 'I don't know. Farm stuff, work pressure, money. Who knows?'

  'Well, whatever.' He was quiet for a moment, then he said, 'You know, if you can convince Harland that something happened, it would be even better. He's so damn honourable he'd confess all to her, and that would be the end of that.'

  'How do I convince him of that?' Emerald whispered.

  'Oh, come on, girl. Use your imagination.' She heard him chuckle and felt a prickling of indignation. 'Look, Emerald, darling, this is our one big chance to get this sorted once and for all. Don't let me down.' She heard a door slam and he said hurriedly, 'Got to go. Remember what I said. Please, this is for George. Do it for him, if not for me.'

  The phone went dead, and Emerald put the device on the bedside table, taking a deep breath as her eyes strayed to the sleeping Eliot, her mind in turmoil.

  She stood looking at him for a moment, admiring the raven curls and strong jaw with that sexy stubble. His breathing was deep and even, and she sighed as she watched his chest rising and falling. She longed to take off his shirt and stroke the dark hair beneath, but she couldn't bring herself to do it. It felt all wrong. Imagine if it had been the other way around and he'd done that to her! Not that she had a hairy chest, of course, but that was hardly the point.

  To be fair, she wouldn't have minded much, having Eliot's hands on her skin, but even so, it was the principle of the thing.

  Whatever James said, she couldn't be that sort of person. It felt all wrong, and she knew she'd never forgive herself if she stooped so low.

  She could do one thing with a clear conscience, though. Emerald gently pulled off his boots and stuck them by the door, then she carefully eased him out of his jacket, releasing one arm and then gently turning him over onto his other side so she could release the other. He would be boiling hot if she didn't take it off. It was a warm night, after all.

  Now that she'd solved that problem, Emerald realised she was worn out. She took off her coat and shoes, removed all her outer clothes, then climbed into bed beside him, covering herself with the duvet so there was a clear barrier between them. She could feel his breath on the back of her neck, and she thought how lovely it was to go to sleep with someone beside you for once, instead of alone as she usually did.

 

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