Page 15 of The Importance of Being Emma
‘How kind, maybe you could help with editing and printing the photos.’ And I bet one or two find their way onto your bedroom wall, I added to myself.
‘Delighted to, I’ve got some very good software on my computer at home. Why don’t you come over one evening and we’ll work on it together?’ His gaze flickered rather uncertainly across to Harriet and I guessed he was afraid she might refuse.
‘I’m sure that can be arranged,’ I said. ‘We’ll be taking the photos in the kitchen at Hartfield, but Harriet and I could come over to your place straight after.’
He looked a little put out. Perhaps he’d hoped to have the photos taken at his house; Harriet draped over his Ikea worktops, a symbol of future domestic bliss. Shame I couldn’t indulge his little fantasy, but the kitchens of my target audience were more likely to be at the Bulthaup end of the range.
I gave him a reassuring smile. ‘Don’t worry, I’m sure it’ll all work out to everyone’s satisfaction. Was there anything else?’
The doggy expression came into his eyes. ‘Yes, I’d like to go over the Marketing budget with you, we’re nearly at the end of the financial year and things are a bit tight, but I’m sure we can find some extra funding for an important project like Harriet’s Secret Recipes. How about later this week?’
‘Fine, just check my diary with Harriet.’ I escaped to my room, leaving the door open so that I could hear them. It sounded as though things were progressing nicely; he was droning on about something and she was giggling.
After a few minutes, Harriet came in. ‘Amazing, Philip lives in Little Bassington and we both think The Ploughman’s much better since it’s been done out, it was minging before.’
‘So when’s he taking you there?’
‘Philip, takingme? Get real.’ She looked at me as if I had two heads.
‘But you were discussing the pub, he might have been going to ask you out.’
‘No, he was fixing up that meeting with you—’
‘Tell me about that later.’ I leaned across my desk towards her and made my tone as persuasive as possible. ‘You see, Harriet, as I was saying before Philip came in, I think you can do far better than Robert Martin. He’s working class, poorly educated, and you said yourself he’s downright ugly. Just compare him to some of the men you’ve met at Highbury Foods.’
She cocked her head on one side. ‘You’re right, I really like Rob, but even I can see that he’s different from someone like Mark.’
‘Mark?’
‘Yeah, Trace would say he’s well shaggable.’
Nine years ago I would have agreed with Trace’s opinion, although not her way of expressing it. Now, with practised ease, I sidestepped memories of my teenage crush and merely said, ‘I was thinking more of Terry, or Philip. They dress smartly, talk intelligently, behave impeccably. So does Mark, except—’
I was going to say ‘he’s out of your league’, when she cut in with, ‘Yeah, but Terry’s so old, forty-five at least.’ She pulled a face.
‘Well then, what about Philip? He’s young, handsome, attentive — look how often he’s in here, offering to assist a pair of helpless little females.’ I lowered my voice to a yearning whisper. ‘And there’s a sort of gentleness about him that women find very appealing. He’s not overbearing, like Mark.’
Her face lit up. ‘Oh, Mark isn’t like that withme. On my first day, he came to find me after the Board meeting and he looked at me with those sexy blue eyes, same colour as mine, spooky!’ She smiled dreamily. ‘He said he hoped I’d enjoy working here andMary was the ideal person to help me settle in. Isn’t that a nice thing for someone like him to say?’
‘If you think that’s nice, just listen to this. After the very same Board meeting, when Jon Marshall was so rude about your Victoria Beckham suggestion, Philip told me he would have rushed to your defence if I hadn’t got there first.’ I shook my head knowingly. ‘You have no idea how much that man fancies you. The other day, when I said how lovely your hair looked — remember you tied it back, as I told you? — he went into ecstasies, I couldn’t shut him up for about ten minutes.’
‘Did he really?’ She paused. ‘Are you going out with anyone?’
I laughed. ‘No, thank God. My last boyfriend became a real pain in the butt so I’ve given men up for the time being.’
‘Don’t you fancy anyone?’
‘No.’ I hesitated. ‘At least, no one round here. So, when’s my meeting with Philip?’
‘Thursday lunchtime, at The Ploughman. That’s why we were talking about it, he thought it would be—’
‘The Ploughman? You must’ve got the wrong end of the stick, Harriet, you’re the only person he wants to take to The Ploughman. We’ll have the meeting here, then you can sit in as well. And tell him not to worry about lunch, I’ll order some sandwiches.’
* * *
~~MARK~~
With Father and Saffron off on their cruise and Tao in kennels, I had Donwell Abbey to myself. Mrs Burn came in most weekdays, but our paths rarely crossed. And it looked as though my solitude would continue for several weeks; Tamara emailed me to say she couldn’t come any earlier than the date we’d already arranged, 19th October, my birthday.
