‘Do I have any choice?’
‘Not really,’ he said grimly. ‘So tell me – why did you come to my room?’
I focused on the picture hanging on the wall behind him, a run-of-the-mill still life – two oranges, a bunch of black grapes and a carafe of red wine. My head throbbed as I tried to recollect my actions. But a disturbing image intruded: my fingers raking his hair as his tongue teased my nipple in the most incredibly arousing way …
I took a deep breath and stared doggedly at the grapes. ‘I needed Harriet to undo my dress, but I couldn’t remember which room she was in. When I heard her in here, I assumed that this was her room and came in. She went before I could ask her for help, so I asked you instead.’
‘That’s it? Nothing else?’
I looked him straight in the eye. ‘No.’
‘Then you certainly got more than you bargained for,’ he said quietly.
I twisted my head to the side and studied another picture, a Constable print, all serenity and sunshine. ‘Don’t worry, I’m not about to accuse you of rape. I must have been willing, I suppose.’
‘You suppose?’ His voice was raw with some sort of emotion – injured pride, no doubt. ‘God help me, Emma! You asked me to kiss you, even though I warned you what the consequences would be. You told me you wanted me, “so, so much”. When I was inside you, you begged me not to stop!’
He was almost shouting now, and I flinched as each word hit home. I couldn’t free my hands to put them over my ears, so I screwed my eyes shut. Tight shut. But still the accusations came, loud and clear.
‘Oh yes,’ he bit out, ‘whatever state you were in, you knew exactly what you were doing. And who you were doing it with. You called my name over and over again. Screamed it, in fact, when I – ’
I felt my face flame. ‘That drink, Batty’s sloe gin, it put me in the mood. And Flynn wasn’t – ’ I broke off, opened my eyes and glared at him. ‘Don’t you understand? There was no one else around.’
‘Give me strength,’ he muttered, releasing my wrists and getting up from the bed. Then, in a bored tone, ‘Forgive me if I can’t get too ecstatic about being a stand-in for Flynn Fucking Churchill.’
At that, something inside me snapped. ‘You’ve got one hell of a nerve, Mark Knightley! Wasn’t I just a substitute for Tamara?’
My breath caught in my throat as he looked down at me, his mouth twisted into a mocking smile. ‘Yes, you were.’ A pause. ‘Only not as good.’ And he went into the bathroom without another word.
A few seconds later, I heard the hiss of the shower. I scrambled to my feet, pulled on my crumpled dress and held it up at the front to cover my breasts. Then I found my briefs and my room key, dashed to the door, opened it and peered round to make sure there was no one about.
Head held high, I walked along the corridor, willing the tears not to fall until I reached my room.
~~MARK~~
The shower acted like a balm, restoring most of my sanity and bringing with it intense remorse.
‘Oh Emma,’ I whispered, ‘you must know I lied when I said you weren’t as good as Tamara. Why did you make me want to hurt you like that? Why did you have to mention his name?’
I had to speak to her. Pausing only to turn off the shower, I hurtled into the bedroom. But she’d gone. She’d taken her clothes, and her key, and gone.
I hardly noticed the water I was dripping onto the carpet; my eyes were drawn to the bed. For a few hours, it had been a cocoon from the real world, warm with passion and possibility. It was empty now, and cold.
Yet, when I’d reached for her during the night and we’d made love again, it was just like the first time, no holding back. Then, this morning, she was the first thing I saw – the woman I’d always loved. Briefly, foolishly, I’d allowed myself to imagine waking every morning to this, believing that she felt the same for me.
But she didn’t. She was in some sort of denial, because of her infatuation with that bastard Churchill. And I knew her too well to try and make her change her mind right now; it was more likely to drive her into his arms. Ironic, wasn’t it? Her maddening pig-headedness was one of the many things I loved about her.
So I’d play it cool. For a little while, at least. However hard that might be.
~~EMMA~~
I was fumbling to unlock the door of my room with one hand, when I heard someone approaching. A few yards down the corridor, the fire door swung open and Flynn breezed through.
Oh shit! Why did it have to be him?
When he saw me he did a double take, then recovered himself almost immediately and winked at me.
‘Where’ve you been all night, you wicked girl?’
I held my dress up more firmly and forced a smile. ‘I could ask you the same question.’
‘Me? Oh, just been out for an early morning walk,’ he said airily. ‘Clear the cobwebs away, that sort of thing.’
‘You must have been freezing.’
He was almost as underdressed as I was, his shirt unbuttoned, with no jacket. And weren’t they the clothes he’d been wearing last night?
He grinned. ‘Yeah, had to make it an early morning jog, actually. And now it’s your turn to spill the beans. I’m intrigued – where did you spend the night?’
I blushed and blurted out the first thing that came into my head. ‘In Harriet’s room. We had quite a lot to drink and I just passed out on her bed.’
He raised one eyebrow. ‘Harriet? Interesting. Didn’t think you had leanings in that direction.’
‘What on earth do you mean?’ I said, with a nervous laugh.
‘I can always tell when a woman’s had a good time. And I’d say you certainly have.’ His eyes flicked to the briefs I was holding. ‘Never mind, your secret’s safe with me. Strewth, and there’s me thinking I’m a good judge of sexual orientation – hey, what’s wrong?’
Tears were streaming down my cheeks. It was all such a horrible mess. I’d slept with a man I’d known all my life and destroyed our relationship for ever. And now the man I’d really wanted to sleep with thought I was a raving lesbian.
Flynn put his hands on my shoulders and gave them a comforting squeeze. ‘Things are never as bad as they seem, Em. Why don’t you get properly dressed and I’ll make us a cup of tea and you can tell me all about it?’
I nodded and handed him my key. He made short work of the lock I’d been fiddling with for ages and pushed me gently into the room.
‘You’re cold, you’ll feel better after a nice warm shower,’ he said, busying himself with the kettle. ‘Don’t be too long, or I’ll come and hurry you up!’
I thanked him with a wan smile, then stumbled through to the bathroom. And there, in the soundproofed privacy of the shower, I washed away any traces of Mark Knightley – and sobbed my heart out.
But Flynn was right; I did feel better afterwards. In fact, I felt almost back to normal as I put on my jeans and a jumper and sat drinking tea with him. Except that ‘normal’ had changed. ‘Normal’ meant recalling random moments from the previous night when I was least prepared for them. ‘Normal’ meant my stomach churning at the very thought of seeing Mark again.
And as for Flynn … When he suggested that I told him everything, I couldn’t. And at first I didn’t understand why.
‘So you went along to ask Harriet to undo your dress,’ he prompted. ‘Shame I wasn’t around, I’d have undone it like a shot, then who knows how your night might have turned out?’
I glanced at him sitting on my bed with that naughty-boy look on his face and I realised that it was a charade, that he was all talk and no action, at least where I was concerned. It made me wonder how I’d ever thought of him as relationship material. Oh, he was good company and he made me laugh, but something about him didn’t ring true. And this morning, for the first time, I didn’t even fancy him. Those once-gorgeous green eyes had lost their magic.
‘But you weren’t around, were you?’ I said coolly. ‘You could have been, but you disappe
ared quite early on. What did you get up to for all that time?’
He smirked. ‘I wish I could say it was something exciting, but I just went to my room and fell asleep. Anyway, we were talking about you, not me. What happened next?’
What happened next was that I crossed a boundary that should have been sacrosanct, had the best sex ever – and couldn’t forgive myself for it.
Aloud I said, ‘That’s none of your business.’ I softened my words with a smile and added, ‘You’ve done me good, Flynn, and I’m grateful to you, but I think I’ll go home now.’
‘Well, you know where I am if you ever want to talk.’ He got to his feet, came over to me and planted a kiss on my forehead. ‘Just remember, you can’t help your natural instincts. Don’t fight them, go with the flow. These are enlightened times, even in a place like Highbury.’ And he sauntered out, as if he hadn’t a care in the world.
I took a deep breath. Time to move on.
~~MARK~~
As I walked through the car park, I looked for Emma’s car. It was still there, which meant that I could call at Hartfield on my way home without any further confrontations.
Anxious not to disturb Henry, I left the car on the road and walked as quietly as I could up the drive. I was just about to slip an envelope through the letter box, when the door opened and there he stood in his dressing gown, beaming at me.
‘Lovely morning, isn’t it?’ he said.
I glanced up at the overcast sky. ‘If you say so.’
‘Oh, I know the weather’s nothing special, but I’ve had my best sleep in years. And it was all thanks to this.’ He produced a little bottle and waved it in my face. ‘I’m sure there’s a business opportunity here, must look into it. Mary says her mother swears by this stuff for all sorts of things.’
‘It’s basically gin, Henry. It makes you forget all your inhibitions – or, in your case, your ailments. If you drink enough of it, you’ll forget them permanently. But I wouldn’t advise it. Drink never solved anyone’s problems, did it?’
He looked horrified. ‘You mean I’ve been in a – a drunken stupor all night? That’s with Emma being at Forbury Manor, you know. If she’d been here, this would never have happened.’
‘And neither would certain other things,’ I muttered under my breath. In a louder voice, I said, ‘Would you mind giving this to her?’
He gave me a quizzical look as I handed him the envelope.
‘It’s just some pointers from our mentoring discussions, as a sort of wrap-up now that I’ve switched to Jane,’ I went on, knowing that he wouldn’t open it and discover I was lying.
‘Oh yes,’ he said vaguely. ‘Do you know, I don’t think I’ve told Emma about that yet. I meant to, but I must have forgotten. I’ll do it as soon as she gets here. She shouldn’t be long, she’s just rung to say she’s on her way. Come in and I’ll make you a coffee, then we can both tell her about the mentoring. Might be better that way, mightn’t it?’
I shook my head. ‘Sorry, Henry, must dash. And thank you for last night, it was a really good do.’ I felt a right heel; it was like thanking him for the opportunity to sleep with his daughter. ‘I’ll be able to reciprocate in a week’s time,’ I added, ‘when you come to the Donwell Organics party.’
He smiled. ‘It’ll be a nice little family outing with Isabella and Emma there too.’
I managed to smile back, although I doubted that Emma would want to come; not now. ‘That reminds me, I’d better book a babysitter. John and Izzy and the kids are all staying at Donwell Abbey that weekend.’
And with that I said goodbye and hurried off. There was no way I was going to risk bumping into Emma while my feelings were still so raw. I’d need all the time I could get to prepare for our next meeting.
~~EMMA~~
Dad dropped two bombshells almost as soon as I walked through the door.
‘Lovely to see you back safely, darling. You’ve just missed Mark.’
Bombshell number one. I put down my overnight bag and said, as calmly as I could, ‘What did he want?’
‘To leave this for you.’ He held out a crisp white envelope with the Forbury Manor logo in the top left-hand corner and my name scrawled across the middle. My fingers trembled as I took it.
‘It’s about the mentoring,’ said Dad.
‘Mentoring?’
‘Yes, a sort of wrap-up, since he’s going to be mentoring Jane in future.’
Bombshell number two. I knew he wouldn’t be mentoring me any more, but …
Dad went on, ‘He discussed it with me and, in the circumstances, we decided it was for the best.’
‘What – what circumstances?’ I felt myself go cold. Surely he wouldn’t have told Dad about last night?
‘Well, he’s always been a great fan of hers, hasn’t he?’ Dad said cheerfully. ‘And he seems to think she’ll be more responsive than you, at the moment anyway. Benefit more from his expertise, that sort of thing.’
All at once I was back in the hotel bedroom shouting, ‘Wasn’t I just a substitute for Tamara?’ And every word of his reply was branded on my memory: ‘Yes, you were. Only not as good.’
Oh, I got the message all right. He may still be getting over Tamara but, when he did finally move on, it would be to Jane Fairfax. Such a deserving cause, so much more responsive than me to his bloody expertise! The mentoring would be a front for getting time alone together without raising too many eyebrows; no doubt he’d be just as unprofessional with her as he’d been with me, as soon as he got the chance …
Dad was eyeing me anxiously. ‘You do understand, don’t you, darling? And Jane’s only here for a short while, whereas you can have mentoring any time.’
I gave him a bright smile. ‘Of course I understand. Let me just take my things up to my room, then I’ll come and have breakfast with you. Put the kettle on, please, I’m gasping for a coffee.’
He went into the kitchen while I hurried upstairs. As soon as I reached my room, I sank onto the bed and ripped open the envelope.
The letter was very short and to the point.
Emma,
If you find out you’re pregnant as a result of last night, please let me know as soon as possible. I would make every effort to discuss the situation sensibly with you and whoever else may have to be involved.
‘Whoever else may have to be involved’. In other words, Jane.
If you’re not pregnant, then I suggest we forget what happened.
Mark.
Forget what happened? Was it that easy to contract amnesia? Every time we met, I’d think of what he looked like naked. Every time we kissed at family gatherings, I’d be reminded of other kisses, far less platonic. Every time I saw his hands move, I’d remember exactly what they were capable of …
It was obvious that he thought of last night as a big mistake, just two sex-starved people who’d had too much to drink. But he was being his usual responsible self, ever mindful of the consequences of his actions.
If I was pregnant, I certainly wouldn’t be going to him and Jane ‘to discuss the situation sensibly’.
I’d handle it all by myself, whether he liked it or not.
~~MARK~~
On Monday I took Jane out for lunch and another mentoring meeting. It went quite well until we touched on more personal matters.
I’d been meaning to ask her about the Highbury Foods Christmas party and saw my chance when she made an apology for her poor appetite.
‘You didn’t eat much on Saturday night, either,’ I said casually. ‘And what happened to you later on? I didn’t see you again after our dance.’
She lowered her gaze. ‘I felt rather ill, so I went upstairs to lie down for a bit. I must have fallen asleep.’
‘Ill? What was the matter?’
‘Indigestion probably. And I was tired.’
‘You seem to be generally off colour at the moment. Mary’s quite worried about you.’ I paused. ‘I don’t want to intrude, but I’m happy to listen if you’ve got a prob
lem and you need to talk it through.’
She stiffened. ‘That’s kind of you, but really I’m fine.’
‘The offer’s always there if you need it.’
‘Thank you, but there’s absolutely nothing wrong. Now, did you want to look at my focus group results analysis and see if I’ve missed anything?’
I sighed and did as she suggested, reflecting that, if I ever needed to be mentored in stonewalling techniques, I’d know exactly who to turn to.
~~EMMA~~
By half past nine on Thursday morning, Harriet still hadn’t turned up for work. Her mobile was switched off and I was just about to drive over to her house in case she’d overslept, when she burst into my room. She was a terrible sight: hair in disarray, mascara running, tights laddered, white fake leather coat stained and torn.
I jumped up from my desk. ‘Whatever’s wrong?’
‘Friggin’ Goths – ’ She glanced over at Jane. ‘Sorry, no offence.’
Jane looked understandably baffled.
‘Have a seat.’ I took Harriet’s arm and guided her to the nearest chair. ‘Would you like a cup of tea?’
‘Christ no, but I could friggin’ kill for a bottle of Lambrini.’
Lambrini? I dreaded to think what sort of dubious plonk she wanted to pour down her throat. My lips tightened; it was as though she’d suddenly reverted to Late Neanderthal Chavette. The contrast with the image I wanted her to project for Harriet’s Secret Recipes couldn’t have been more marked.
‘Calm down,’ I said sternly, ‘and tell me what happened.’
She perched on the edge of the chair and started shredding the leaves of the yucca next to her. ‘I was on my way to work, along the high street, not through Little Bassington.’ She gave me a meaningful look, then went on, ‘I stopped at the lights and some Goths walked past. I mean, a bunch of Goths in broad daylight in the middle of Highbury! Where were the friggin’ police?’
The Importance of Being Emma Page 23