Page 113 of The Importance of Being Emma
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’rehoping 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 Iannounced 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 Iwantto 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.
