Page 57 of The Importance of Being Emma
I put out two bowls and side plates, with soup spoons and small knives. The rolls and butter were next, then a jug of fruitjuice and two glasses, and finally a dish of grated Parmesan to sprinkle on the minestrone.
When I’d finished, Flynn said, ‘Soup’s ready. So, what’s this theory of yours?’
‘Could you bring the pan here?’ He carried it over and I ladled the soup carefully into the bowls. Then I went on, ‘Man trouble. Even Saint Jane can’t be a saintallthe time, she was having a secret affair.’
Flynn almost sent the pan flying across the room — no mean feat with Le Creuset cast iron. He recovered himself quickly and put it back on the hob. ‘Sorry, not used to these things, they weigh a ton. A secret affair, did you say? Interesting. Who with?’
‘Charlotte’s husband, of course,’ I said.
‘Strewth, you mean Dan Dixon?’ He seemed genuinely stunned. ‘I’ve obviously underestimated the bloke. This is a revelation, Em. Has Jane talked about him much?’
My lip curled. ‘Does Jane talk about anything? Apart from her marketing expertise, that is. She’s never been very forthcoming about her personal life.’
‘I can understand that, I suppose,’ he said, with a sigh. ‘I’m the same — for quite different reasons, I imagine. It’s one of the pitfalls of being a celebrity — every look, every comment is in the spotlight. It goes against the grain — I’m normally such a spontaneous sort of person, you know? And I’m being especially careful over here, with everything I’ve heard about the British press.’
I nodded sympathetically. ‘It must be awful having no privacy.’ Then I smiled. ‘Although Highbury’s probably the safest place in England, the old biddy mafia will sniff out any paparazzi long before you do, and run them out of town!’
He laughed. ‘I think I’m going to enjoy Highbury.’
‘I hope so. Anyway, let’s have our soup before it gets cold.’
We sat at the table and ate in silence for a few minutes; but my mind was buzzing with this latest information. How weird — and annoying — that my bête noire had met Flynn Churchill before I had!
‘You’ve probably guessed that Jane and I aren’t exactly best friends,’ I said. ‘I’ve always found her very difficult to get close to, but perhaps she’s different when she’s away from Highbury. How well did you get to know her?’
He paused to swallow a large spoonful of minestrone. ‘This is delicious! You know, I’ve always wanted to go to Italy and sample the real thing, but there’s no need, I can come here instead. You’re a fantastic cook — and aren’t you half Italian?’
‘My mother was from Florence.’
‘That would account for your lovely colouring, of course.’ He stared at me, and I felt myself blush. ‘I’m fed up with pale skin,’ he said. ‘Makes me think of uncooked pastry.’
I giggled. ‘That’s a bit harsh. Some women with pale skin are considered very attractive. Jane, for example, everyone thinks she’s so pretty . . . How much did you see of her in Weymouth?’
Another disarming grin. ‘As much as I ever want to. The Campbells took a shine to me and invited me over whenever I was at a loose end, which was most days — until one of Stella’s spies turned up.’
‘Spies? Did she actually send someone to check up on you?’
‘Yes. She kicked up a big fuss, told me I was over here to work, not socialise, and threatened to put an end to my TV career in Australia.’
I gasped. ‘Can she really do that?’
‘Oh yes, she’s got her finger in lots of pies and, at the end of the day, money talks.’ He scowled, then his mood changed abruptly. He leaned forward, eyes twinkling. ‘D’you know what? I think there might be something in your little theory. Dan was very attentive to Jane, even when Charlotte was there, as thoughhe couldn’t help himself. And I bet I know how it all started — when he saved her from drowning.’
‘Which would hardly be necessary since she walks on water,’ I said, with a derisive laugh. ‘But I’m intrigued — what happened?’
He leaned even further forward, until I could feel his warm breath on my cheek. ‘Apparently — mind, I only heard this second hand — Dan and Jane were out in the Campbells’ boat. On their own — Charlotte was off somewhere with her mother. Everything was fine until they got into some choppy water, and Dan had to hold onto Jane all the time, to stop her going overboard, even though she was wearing a safety jacket. I wouldn’t be surprised if he gave her the kiss of life, just as a precaution . . . And the rest, as they say, is history.’
‘Poor Charlotte! I wonder if she suspects anything?’ I frowned as I refilled our glasses. ‘Jane looks as though butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth, but she’s always been far too reserved for my liking. Ask her a simple question and she gives you some wishy-washy answer that means nothing. I don’t think you’d even get her to say the Pope’s Catholic.’
His face darkened. ‘I know. Some people are so scared of committing themselves, they go for the safest option every time, complete silence. Well, it may be safe but it’s a bloody pain and I—’ He stopped and ran his fingers through his copper curls. I watched, fascinated, as they sprang back, but in a different direction. Everything about him was like that, new and shiny and exciting; even now, when he was scowling. Then, ‘Sorry, Em, didn’t mean to go on like that. It’s just I don’t think I’m cut out for someone reserved, I’m such an open, in-your-face sort of person.’
I smiled. ‘I know you are. But I suppose a certain amount of reserve can be very appealing, provided you get the odd glimpse behind the mask.’ For some reason Mark came to mind; therelaxed Mark I’d seen at Ashridge, the totally uninhibited Mark who’d kissed me. Now it was my turn to frown. He was the last person I should be thinking about, especially with Flynn around.
I got abruptly to my feet. ‘More soup?’
‘Sure, and I’d love the recipe — if it’s not a family secret.’
‘Of course it is — but I know I can trust you, I’ll write it down before you go. By the way, would you like a lift back to Randalls? I could drop you there at quarter past two, when I go to meet Harriet.’
