The Importance of Being Emma (43 page)

‘
Shit, so you know, did Mark tell you?’

‘
Oh Harriet, it wasn’t that hard to figure out.’

Brief pause; then she said, sounding relieved, ‘I wanted to tell you, but I couldn’t, Mark said you might try and talk me out of it.’

I felt a surge of anger at being judged so unfairly. ‘If you really want something, no one should be able to talk you out of it – ’ I broke off, remembering how easily I’d persuaded her to drop Robert Martin for Philip Elton. Maybe Mark had a point, maybe he already knew Harriet better than I did. ‘I need to go, it’s late and I’m sure you’ve still got packing to do. Have a good trip and I’ll see you in a couple of weeks.’

‘
If I come back at all,’ she said cheerfully and hung up.

I threw the phone on the floor and cried myself to sleep.

The next morning, I woke up with a pounding headache. Dad made me his favourite hangover remedy, uncooked porridge oats in barley water, but after a couple of mouthfuls I couldn’t face any more. There was something weighing on my mind, something I needed to do as soon as possible. I found an unopened bottle of vintage port in the cellar, grabbed my car keys and poked my head round the door of the dining room, where Dad was tut-tutting over the Sunday papers.

‘
Just popping into Highbury to give this port to Mary’s mother, I promised it to her ages ago.’

‘
Fine, darling, best to call now before they go to church.’

Kings Row looked congested, so I parked on the high street and dashed across the grass verge that separated it from Batty’s house. I rang the doorbell and waited as patiently as I could.

When Batty eventually came to the door, she seemed even weirder than usual. ‘Oh, it’s you, have you heard already, did Kate tell you?’

I decided to ignore her ramblings and get my apology over and done with. ‘I brought this for you and your mother, I know how much you both like port.’ I paused. ‘And I’ve come to say sorry for last night, I don’t know what got into me.’

She took the port with a distracted smile. ‘That’s very kind of you, of course I thought nothing of it really, after … Do come in, dear, we’re all at sixes and sevens this morning but I’m just about to make another cuppa.’

As I hesitated, she added in a stage whisper, ‘Jane’s gone off to live in sin with Flynn Churchill, Mother would have kittens if she knew! I’ve had to say she’s in Ireland visiting Charlotte Dixon.’

I stood stock still for a moment, absorbing what I’d just heard. Then I closed the door behind me with a firm click and almost pushed her into the tiny kitchen. I switched on the kettle and stood between her and the tea things, in an attempt to keep her focused on the task in hand.

‘
Right, Mary,’ I said with an encouraging smile, ‘I’ll make the tea and you can tell me all about Jane.’

~~MARK~~

As far as I knew, this morning would be Rob and Harriet’s first meeting for several months. I’d told each of them that they could back out of the arrangement at any time, but neither of them showed any signs of doing so. Still, until they saw each other again, I was on tenterhooks.

Rob lived outside the village, on the road we’d be taking to Gatwick Airport, so I planned to pick him up last. At eight o’clock sharp, Jack Thomas collected me from Donwell in his taxi and we went from there to Harriet’s house. I could see in a split second that she had too much luggage, but it took far longer to persuade her to ditch any of it. At last, she agreed to leave all the fake leather behind; January might be Mumbai’s coolest month, but temperatures could still reach twenty-eight degrees and the humidity was always high.

It was just after nine o’clock, well behind schedule, when we turned into the high street on the way to Rob’s. In the distance, I saw a familiar figure in red trousers come out of Mary’s cottage and walk slowly down the path.

I spoke without thinking, my voice taut with regret. ‘Oh God, there she is, there’s Emma.’

I needn’t have worried; Harriet caught only the name, not the undercurrent of emotion. She loosened her seat belt, leaned across me and banged on the window.

‘
Oi, Emma!’

Emma didn’t seem to hear. The traffic lights were on red and the taxi rumbled to a halt right opposite her as she opened her car door. Harriet banged on the window time and again, shouting her name and waving frantically, but Emma had her head down, as if in a little world of her own. Then the lights changed. The taxi lurched forward, Harriet fell on top of me and Emma glanced in our direction at last.

I was hardly aware of Harriet straightening herself up with an embarrassed giggle; all I could see was the look of utter anguish in Emma’s eyes. And I had to find out what, or who, had put it there.

‘
Pull over,’ I said to Jack.

As soon as he stopped the taxi, I jumped out and ran back down the street. Too late – Emma had driven off in the opposite direction. In three strides I was at Mary’s front door, almost hammering it down.

She did a double take when she saw me. ‘Mark, dear, aren’t you meant to be – ’

‘
Going to the airport, yes, and I’m in a hurry. But I’ve just seen Emma and she looked very upset. And I had to know – is everything all right?’

‘
She wasn’t upset when she left here, more shocked than anything.’ She gave a nervous titter. ‘I don’t suppose you’ve heard our news.’

I smiled grimly. ‘It wouldn’t be to do with Jane and Flynn Churchill, would it?’

Her hand flew to her mouth. ‘How did you guess? Jane left me a note, she’s with him and Stella in the Lakes, must have gone late last night, I didn’t hear a … Poor girl, she says she’s been in a terrible state ever since they met at Weymouth, not knowing whether he was The One, or whether Stella had her spies watching, she threatened to cut off Flynn’s … But they’re hoping Stella will come round when she sees the Brook Inn and meets dear Jane.’

‘
And you told Emma all this?’

‘
Oh yes, we had quite a long chat, she came to apologise for last night, which I’d quite forgotten about, what with all the excitement this morning.’ Another nervous titter. ‘Like me, she never suspected anything … Mind you, I always wondered how Flynn knew about the Perrys’ son nearly being expelled, because I only mentioned it to Jane and Emma. And Emma says she certainly didn’t tell him.’

I checked my watch. ‘I’ve got to go. Goodbye, Mary, don’t worry about Jane, I’m sure she knows what she’s doing by now.’

I gave her a swift kiss on the cheek and dashed back to the taxi. Harriet didn’t seem inclined to talk, so I had time to think. I decided my priority was to get Rob and Harriet on the plane to Mumbai. Then I would come straight back to Highbury and offer Emma a shoulder to cry on. Judging by that glimpse I’d had of her face, the shock had already worn off and the heartache had started. And who else was there to comfort her? Her father and sister were about as much use as a chocolate teapot; and Kate, the obvious choice, just happened to be Churchill’s stepmother.

We arrived at Rob’s house with Harriet chewing her lip and me feeling almost as apprehensive. Rob answered the door, his face white and set. I wasted no time in taking his bags and ordering him into the taxi. As Jack and I rearranged the luggage so that we could get everything in the boot, I glanced into the back of the car. To my relief, Rob and Harriet were in each other’s arms. I got into the front seat beside Jack and spent the rest of the journey learning more than I ever wanted to know about his recent hernia operation. I decided it was preferable to being too close to the heavy breathing in the back.

When we reached Gatwick, I took Rob, Harriet and their luggage to the Emirates Air check-in. It was there that I announced that something urgent had cropped up and I was postponing my trip. I told them my friend Anil would meet them at Mumbai airport and take them to my flat; he lived in the same complex and would be on hand to show them around. I wished them well and reminded them to contact me on my mobile if they needed to. I doubted whether they took in more than one word in ten; they spent the whole time grinning inanely at each other.

As soon as they disappeared through passport control, I returned to the taxi rank where Jack was waiting. I couldn’t face any more of his medical history, so I pretended I needed a power nap and sat in the back. Soon we were on the M25 again, this time travelling clockwise. It was now raining steadily and the windscreen wipers kept up a mind-numbing rhythm that stopped me from thinking too far ahead.

By the time Jack dropped me and my luggage at Hartfield, it was nearly one o’clock. As I watched the taxi trundle down the drive, I realised that this was it, there was no going back. I rang the bell and waited, hands clasped behind me, one forefinger tracing the links of my watch.

When Henry answered the door, his jaw dropped. ‘Mark? What are you doing here?’ He stood back as I piled my bags into the hall.

‘
No time to explain, I need to see Emma.’

‘
She’s not here, she went out about fifteen minutes ago. Didn’t want any lunch, told me she was going for a walk to clear her head. She’s not answering her mobile and I’m very worried about her.’

‘
I know, is – is she terribly upset?’ I said, cursing the catch in my voice.

He raised his eyebrows. ‘Upset? I don’t know about that, but she went out without her coat. She’ll catch her death, and then where will we all be?’

I bit back an impatient retort. ‘I’ll find her, don’t worry. See you later.’

As I made to leave, he pulled me back. ‘You’re leaving those bags here?’

‘
Just for a little while – are they in your way?’

‘
No, no, I’m sure I won’t trip over them.’

I sighed, shut the front door before he could complain about the draught, and quickly stowed the bags under the stairs. I’d just yanked the door open again, when he gave a little moan.

I turned and glared at him. ‘Yes?’

‘
Look at that rain, poor Emma’s got no coat and that jacket of yours looks very flimsy, at least let me fetch an umbrella – ’

I ignored him and slammed the door behind me so hard that the house shook. The rain whipped into me, but I barely noticed. From Hartfield, there was only one obvious walk – down the bridle path to Donwell. I started to jog, heedless of the mud spattering my light grey trousers, my eyes trained on the path stretching emptily out in front. Emma had a good head start, quarter of an hour according to Henry, and visibility was poor in the rain. As the minutes passed and I still couldn’t see her, I wondered if I’d got it wrong. Perhaps she’d gone to Randalls to pour her heart out to Kate after all.

Suddenly, through the mist, no more than a hundred yards ahead, I saw red trousers bright as a robin’s breast. I didn’t call her name, just quickened my pace.

~~EMMA~~

I heard the footsteps behind me and whirled round. A tall, well-made man was running towards me, jacket flapping.

‘
The idiot,’ I thought, ‘he’ll get drenched, like me. But I
want
to be cold and miserable.’

Then I saw who it was and my heart missed a beat. I hurriedly wiped the tears from my eyes with the back of my hand and fixed a defiant look on my face.

‘
Why aren’t you at the airport?’ I flung the words at him, like stones, as he approached.

He skidded to a halt within two feet of me, his breath coming in gasps, great shuddering gasps. ‘I heard – the news – and I had to come.’ When he’d steadied himself, he went on, ‘I can see how upset you are about Churchill – ’

‘
Churchill?’

‘
I mean Flynn,’ he said quietly, ‘and Jane. Come here.’

He gathered me to him, held me tight. I was soaked to the skin and my teeth were chattering, but I could have stayed there for ever, my face pressed against his chest, breathing his scent, listening to the thud-thud of his heart.

But I couldn’t stay there for ever, because he didn’t belong to me. For the first time in my life, I, Emma Woodhouse, wanted to be somebody else: Harriet Smith, chav. I blinked back more tears.

Then I heard him muttering to himself. ‘The wanker doesn’t know when he’s well off … and to let you find out like that … I’ve a good mind to go to the Lakes and beat him to pulp … ’

‘
Mark?’ It came out as little more than a croak.

‘
Yes?’ He held me away from him, his eyes bleak as they searched my tear-streaked face.

‘
What are you on about? Who are you going to beat to pulp?’ I shivered, partly from the cold, partly from his words.

He folded me in his arms again. ‘That bastard Churchill, who else?’

I laid my damp cheek against his damp shirt, now totally confused. He was meant to be on his way to India with Harriet; yet here he was behaving as if he was insanely jealous of Flynn – after denying any feelings at all for Saint Jane of Highbury!

‘
For God’s sake, if Flynn wants Jane, good luck to him,’ I said, in a choked voice.

My cheek rose and fell as he let out a long sigh. Several times he seemed about to speak, but stopped himself. I said nothing; it was enough to be this close for a few minutes more.

Then, at last, he broke the silence and it was his turn to sound choked. ‘You’re too generous, he doesn’t deserve you, my darling. He’ll never deserve you, ever.’