Page 60 of The Importance of Being Emma
‘Yes, Philip.’ Another deep breath. ‘He seems to have acquired a girlfriend at that conference last week.’
‘Yeah, that would be about right.’ She took a sandwich and crammed it in her mouth.
I was completely taken aback by her reaction, or lack of it. ‘What do you mean?’
She gave me a pitying look as she swallowed the sandwich. ‘Don’t you ever read horoscopes? I checked Philip’s on Thursday and it was obvious he’d found someone in Bristol, it said “love blossoms from a chance meeting in foreign parts”. That’s when I knew there was no point fancying him any more.’
I frowned. ‘But it didn’t stop you going past his house today.’
‘Told you, it’s just a habit,’ she said, with a shrug. ‘And I’m interested in seeing who he’s got off with, aren’t you? He’ll wantto show her his lovely house, so I’m bound to see her some time soon.’
‘Apparently she’s staying with him this weekend,’ I said. ‘Or so Mary told me on Friday. You weren’t in the office at the time, you must have been at lunch.’
She looked puzzled. ‘I can’t remember where I was, but I didn’t have any lunch, I know that. Too much to do.’
‘I didn’t think I’d left you a lot of work. You must tell me if—’
‘Oh, it wasn’tyourwork,’ she said airily. ‘Well, it was in a way, since Jane reports to you. She thought it would be good if I got a whole lot of stuff ready for her to read on Monday. Took me ages, but I didn’t mind. She’s lovely, isn’t she? Sort of looks like a Goth, only nicer. It meant I didn’t quite finish that presentation you’d given me, but Jane told me not to worry.’
My lips tightened. ‘In future, Harriet,mywork takes priority over Jane’s.’
‘Sorry.’ She took a quick slurp of tea. ‘Did you get much research done with Mark?’
It was a question I’d been expecting, but it caught me off guard. Two vivid recollections invaded my thoughts: that look in his eyes as he reached for me, and the feel of his mouth, making love to mine . . .
My hand shook, ever so slightly, as I poured myself another cup of tea. ‘Yes, I did. Quite enlightening at the time, but I don’t need to do any more.’
She giggled. ‘I wouldn’t be thinking about work with him around, I’d be hoping for a storm so we’d have to stay the night at Ashridge.’
‘I can assure you there was nothing further from my mind,’ I said coolly.
She looked at me curiously. ‘How long is it since your last shag?’
‘Harriet!’ I glanced round to see if anyone was listening, then leaned forward. ‘The other big news is that Flynn Churchill’s arrived in Highbury at long last — you know, Tom Weston’s son, the celebrity chef from Australia.’ I sat back and reached for my purse to pay the bill. ‘Which reminds me, I need a new dress for tonight. Come to Estella’s next door and help me choose something that Flynn won’t be able to resist.’
I had no intention of being guided by her at all, of course. She sat in the dress shop working out how many tops she could buy at Primark for the price of one of Estella’s silk camisoles, while I tried on five or six outfits. In the end, I bought a sexy black dress that fitted me to a T, and made sure she didn’t see how much it cost.
Just as we were walking back along the high street, a horribly familiar blue sports car swung into the parking area and screeched to a halt next to my BMW. Philip leapt out from the far side, ran round, flung open the passenger door and hovered expectantly, like an eager puppy returning a carelessly thrown stick.
Harriet and I paused to watch the next part of the performance. First two sturdy legs emerged, encased in Evisu jeans and Ugg boots; then a pair of enormous breasts, jostling with each other to escape from a tight red scoop-necked jumper; and finally, the sort of swirling golden tresses you’d normally see in a L’Oréal advert. This apparition had hardly toppled out of the car when Philip grabbed her and started devouring her. We had an uninterrupted view of her hands slipping down the back of his trousers to fondle his buttocks.
‘I think we’ve seen enough,’ I said to Harriet in a disapproving tone. ‘Let’s go and sit in your car until they’ve gone.’
But I was too late. Philip swivelled round, detaching his mouth from the woman’s in the nick of time. ‘Emma, wait!’
They tottered across the car park towards us, welded together from shoulder to hip, Philip smirking in a ‘Didn’t take me long to find someone, did it?’ kind of way.
‘Let me introduce Gusty,’ he said to me, ignoring Harriet. He added with a leer, ‘We’ve only just got up, so it’s afternoon tea at Tilly’s instead of breakfast.’
Gusty flicked her hair back from her face and bared her teeth in the semblance of a smile. She was pretty enough, though not a patch on Harriet, and immaculately made up.
‘So this is the famous Emmurrr Woodhouse,’ she drawled in a strong Bristol accent, holding out a gleaming set of nail extensions. ‘I’ve heard so much about you and your little marrrketing efforts at Highburrry Foods.’
Remembering where her hand had just been, I said coldly, ‘Do you mind if I don’t shake hands? My father’s immune system is very fragile at the moment and he’s insisting that I take every precaution . . . This is Harriet, she’s a great help to me in my little marketing efforts.’
Harriet mumbled something, but neither of them paid her the slightest bit of attention.
‘Give this to Henry and tell him I’ll be in touch,’ Gusty said, handing me a little white card from her pocket.
