The Importance of Being Emma (28 page)

‘
In the Lake District.’ He laughed. ‘Lots of sheep, just like back home.’

‘
The Lakes? But that’s hundreds of miles away! What are you doing there?’

‘
It’s a BBC thing, top secret,’ he said. ‘I meant to call and see you before I left, but I ran out of time. Made the mistake of going to say goodbye to the Bateses first and the aunt burbled on for hours.’

‘
More fool you for going,’ I said drily. ‘When will you be back?’

‘
Could be a couple of days, could be a few weeks. It depends.’

‘
A few
weeks
?’ I let out a long ragged breath. ‘It’s just that I’ve got you an invitation for December 2nd.’

‘
What’s on December 2nd?’

I tried to keep the exasperation out of my voice. ‘The Highbury Foods Christmas party, remember?’

‘
Oh, fantastic! I promise I’ll be there, wouldn’t miss it for the world. Listen, Em, I know we’ve only just met but you must have realised that – ’

There was a loud crackle and the line went dead. Shit! I slammed down the receiver and frowned at the ceiling. I knew what he’d been going to say, could hear the words as if he was in the room with me: ‘You must have realised that I’m falling in love with you’. Very gratifying, but now everything would grind to a halt while he was in the Lake District.

Then I forced a smile. After years of waiting, what did a few more weeks matter?

As it turned out, I was right to be philosophical – Flynn was away until the day of the party. But he phoned me regularly at the office; I could always tell when he was on the line from Harriet’s shrieks of laughter as she took the call.

Not that the time dragged; I had far too much work to do. Between us, Jane and I planned the research for Harriet’s Secret Recipes with a view to completing everything by Christmas. It was a constant clash of wills. I took a pragmatic approach, where things didn’t have to be perfect as long as they got done. Jane, however, was nothing short of meticulous. For example, she was taking ages to organise the focus groups, because she insisted on recruiting only those people who fitted our rather demanding profile to the letter.

One morning, I was about to remind her of the consequences of missing our deadline when, out of the blue, she asked if she could take the following week off. The reason that she gave, after much prompting, was ‘a last-minute holiday with a close friend’.

I thought instantly of Dan and my lips tightened. ‘You haven’t worked here long enough to take five days off, so technically I should say no.’

She flushed. ‘Please, Emma. I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important.’

I relented, motivated by the thought of a whole week in the office without her and having the focus groups organised by the time she came back. But I didn’t ask her a single question about her holiday, either before or after. Nobody would be able to accuse
me
of conniving in her sordid little affair.

Batty also asked me to help her prepare for the Christmas party, in particular choosing a special menu for Dad and allocating rooms to those who were staying overnight. I took full advantage of my position and made sure Flynn’s room was next to mine.

To my relief, I heard nothing more from Mark. But I had a new person to avoid: Gusty. She started pestering Dad to hire her for a strategic financial audit, whatever that was – something Mark had apparently already commissioned her to do for Donwell Organics. Dad kept stalling, which meant that Gusty pestered me instead, convinced that I would influence him on her behalf. When I stopped taking her phone calls, she swept into my office one day and confronted me; but I told her straight that I wasn’t prepared to discuss the subject – with Dad, or her, or anyone else.

At this point, she switched her attentions to Jane. It was rather amusing to listen to her gushing compliments alternating with Jane’s monosyllabic brush-offs. She even assured Jane that her talents were wasted at Highbury Foods and offered to get her a much better job through her Maple Grove contacts. The cheek of it, poaching a member of my staff right under my nose! I almost sent Gusty packing there and then.

But I didn’t; because by now I was wishing Saint Jane miles away from Highbury. Working with her was a nightmare, thanks to our completely different styles; and I had another, more altruistic reason. Batty let slip that Mark had taken Jane out for a very long and expensive lunch the previous Saturday. Jane didn’t mention it, of course, and I didn’t ask her.

It shouldn’t have mattered one jot what Mark Knightley chose to do with Jane Fairfax. But somehow it did.

After all, even Mark didn’t deserve to have Donwell Abbey infested by Battys.

~~MARK~~

Emma had asked me for space and that’s exactly what she got. I even avoided Henry, just in case I bumped into her. After my first mentoring meeting with Jane, instead of giving him an update in person as I would have preferred, I made do with a phone call.

There wasn’t much to tell. I’d found it difficult to establish rapport with her, although I’d chosen what I thought was a relaxed time and setting – lunch on a Saturday at the newly opened Box Hill Restaurant. Still, as I said to Henry, it was early days.

And, as I didn’t say to Henry, it had been infinitely easier than dealing with his daughter.

But I wouldn’t be able to avoid Emma at the Highbury Foods Christmas party. Or Churchill, who would no doubt be glued to her side. Or everyone’s comments about how they made
such
a lovely couple.

As soon as I saw her that evening, the longing twisted inside me like a knife. She was standing beside the Christmas tree in Reception, talking animatedly on her mobile. Unnoticed, I took in every detail of her appearance. Stunning dress, white and strapless and hugging her body as though she’d been poured into it. Hair falling in glossy waves around her face. Eyes and lips provocatively defined, as if daring someone to accuse her of wearing too much make-up. And above the curve of her breasts a diamond pendant, its sparkle outshone by the golden lustre of her skin …

I turned and made for the nearest drink.

~~EMMA~~

My big night – or rather mine and Flynn’s – had arrived at last.

He phoned me to say he was running late, but I couldn’t be angry with him; the important thing was that he’d come back specially from the Lakes just to be here.

When a tall figure in black entered the room carrying two champagne flutes, my heart missed a beat. I soon realised my mistake, however; it was Mark, not Flynn. I gave him a tight little smile and received a curt nod in return. For a moment, I thought he was bringing one of the glasses to me, as a peace offering. But no, he headed for Jane, who was looking about as happy as a turkey on Christmas Eve.

Eventually Flynn appeared in the doorway, heart-stoppingly handsome in a white tux. He came straight over and kissed me lightly on the cheek. I’d been hoping for something rather more passionate, but I curbed my impatience.

‘
Sorry, Em, I’m even later than I expected. All in a good cause – I’ve been looking at the seating plan with Kate, to check I’m paired off with you.’

My heart missed another beat; I was sure that, like me, he was thinking of us pairing off for more than the dinner. I gave a little shrug. ‘I know that each table’s round and sits ten, but other than that I’ve kept out of it. I’d probably put the wrong people together – that’s why I told Batty to get Kate to do it.’

He grinned. ‘Kate’s done it for years, hasn’t she? She told me that this time she’s tried a little experiment to get people to mix more. She’s put couples on the same table but given them a different partner to sit with.’

‘
Sounds good,’ I said, pleased that Philip and Gusty would have no opportunity to grope each other during the meal and put everyone else off their food. ‘Who are we with?’

‘
Let’s have some champagne while I try to remember.’ He took several glasses from a passing waitress and knocked back a couple in succession. I did the same, keeping up with him for the first glass, but sipping my second more slowly. The last thing I wanted was to drink myself into oblivion. Not tonight.

Flynn clinked his third glass clumsily with mine. ‘Cheers, Em. Now, where was I? Of course, how could I forget, Kate’s put us with Philip Elton and his girlfriend Busty, very well endowed apparently.’

I burst out laughing. ‘It’s Gusty, not Busty!’ Then I gave a loud groan. ‘But why’s she inflicted them on me when – ’ I broke off as I remembered that Kate knew nothing about my little fiasco with Philip.

Flynn went on, ‘Kate and Dad are on our table too, but I can’t remember the other four.’ He frowned in concentration. ‘Oh yes, we’ve got Mark “I’m God’s gift to Highbury” Knightley and Saint Jane. When I saw that Kate had them paired off, I made her give them other partners immediately – on the grounds of cruelty to dumb animals.’

Kate was certainly on a matchmaking mission; I forced a smile. ‘Who’s the dumb animal – Mark or Jane?’

He shrugged. ‘Either. Both. Look at him talking to her over there.’ His lip curled. ‘He’s probably holding forth about his exploits in India. You know the sort of thing – exciting late night negotiations to purchase biodegradable paper clips for the office, thrilling weekends spent sampling cups of tea for Donwell Organics’ new line in Lapsong Souchong.’

‘
That’s from China, you idiot,’ I said, with a giggle.

‘
I’ll take your word for it, my Darjeeling. But Mark Knightley seems to lead such a dreary life, doesn’t he? Work, work, work – he must be the most boring man on the planet. What a waste of all those years in a place like India.’

I shook my head. ‘Actually, from what I know he had a very busy social life in India. But I agree, over here it seems to have been all work and no play.’

Especially since he split up with
her
, I added to myself.

Flynn stared across at Mark and Jane. ‘Why do women bother with him?’

‘
Isn’t it obvious?’ I risked a quick glance myself, trying to see Mark through the eyes of a stranger. ‘He’s extremely good-looking. Very intelligent. Great company, believe it or not.’

And a sublime kisser.

I allowed my thoughts to wander, just for a moment …

Flynn’s edgy laugh brought me back to earth. ‘Strewth! Who’d settle for me when they can have all that?’

I reached up and put my finger to his lips. ‘Be quiet, you know you’re wonderful. Different from Mark, of course, but still wonderful.’

He pulled me to him. ‘And you’re very different from Saint Jane.’

I pressed my body against his, feeling curiously light-headed. His face was so close, I just knew he was going to kiss me. Here. Now. In front of everyone –

‘
Emma, your father wants you.’ It was Mark, right beside us, his voice icy with disapproval. ‘According to the agenda for the evening, you should have announced dinner three minutes ago.’

Flynn let go of me with a scowl. ‘Three minutes, is that all? Keep your hair on, mate. Anyhow, looks like some of us have other agendas for this evening, doesn’t it?’

‘
Speak for yourself,’ Mark said, tersely.

Without a word, I lifted my chin and stalked off to make the announcement. Inside, I was seething. Trust him to interfere; Big Brother, always watching over me.

Well, he wouldn’t be able to guard me all night, would he?

~~MARK~~

While I talked to Jane, I kept a close eye on Emma and Churchill; at least, as much as I could without seeming rude. Then Henry joined us, in a flap about timings and wanting Emma to call everyone through to dinner.

‘
I’ll get her for you,’ I said, suddenly aware that she was clinging to Churchill in a most suggestive manner. Needless to say, it was exactly how I’d have liked her to cling to me. So I interrupted them, then immediately regretted it; I must have sounded like a pompous old fart. And I wondered what Churchill meant about other agendas; could he sense that mine was to keep him away from her for as long as possible?

Emma’s voice came across the public address system, clear and confident. ‘Ladies and gentlemen, dinner’s about to be served. If you haven’t already done so, please look at the seating plan in the far corner and find out who your partner is. Then, in your pairs, form an orderly line by table number and we’ll go through into the Marlborough Room. Thank you.’

As soon as she finished speaking, people surged to the back of the room, anxious to see the plan. I hung back, in no hurry to join the crush.

Elton sidled up to me. ‘I don’t need to look at the plan, someone said we were on your table. Gusty’s gone to the Ladies, but she’ll be back in a tick.’

Before I could answer, Kate arrived with Harriet in tow. ‘Hello, you two,’ she said brightly. ‘Waiting for your partners?’

Harriet looked distinctly uncomfortable; I couldn’t tell whether it was because of Elton, me, or the outfit she was wearing, which I could only describe as two black net curtains held together by large, vicious-looking gold safety pins.

‘
That’s right,’ Elton said. ‘Gusty won’t be long, she’s – ’

‘
Oh no, Philip,’ Kate put in, with a peal of laughter. ‘You’re not allowed to sit together, I’ve deliberately split couples up so that they have to be sociable.’