Page 66 of The Importance of Being Emma
‘Made the mistake of asking Mary if there was anything she wanted, as she’s without a car,’ he said. ‘So here I am at Asda, in Kingston, with a list as long as my arm and Jane lecturing me about my expensive tastes.’ He broke off and murmured something, presumably to Saint Jane. He went on, ‘Apparently Mary’s idea of a nice joint of beef is the opposite of mine — she means something you Poms call brisket, whereas I’d rather have a piece of rump any day. And I’ve bought her the biggest one I could find, just to show her the difference.’
I frowned. ‘How thoughtful. Although I’m surprised Batty asked you to go shopping for her, she’s always been dead against Sunday trading.’
‘Ah, but this is an exception, because she couldn’t do any yesterday.’ He sounded more amused than upset by my lack of sympathy. ‘Anyway, Em, what if I come round this afternoon — say two o’clock?’
‘I’m afraid not, Dad and I are going over to my sister’s,’ I said, trying to hide my disappointment; I added quickly, ‘How about tonight?’
He hesitated. ‘Sorry, Mary’s invited me to dinner. You can imagine how it went — “It’s theleastI can do,sokind of you to takedearJane shopping” and the rest. God knows I’d get out of it if I could—’
‘Not to worry, let’s have lunch tomorrow instead.’
‘That would be great, I’ll give you a ring at work in the morning.’
As I put the phone down, I realised how much I’d been looking forward to seeing him. Now I’d have to wait another twenty-four dreary hours.
It must be love, mustn’t it?
* * *
~~MARK~~
On Monday, I drew up outside the Bateses’ house at half past eight on the dot. Instantly, Jane appeared at the front door, walked sedately down the path to the car, opened the nearside rear door and settled herself in the back.
‘Good morning,’ she said quietly, ‘and thank you for going to all this trouble.’
I was just reassuring her that it was no trouble at all, when a flustered Mary arrived, tried to get in at Jane’s side, realised her mistake with a shrill squeal and scuttled round to the front passenger seat.
‘Oh, Mark,’ she gasped as she scrambled inside, ‘I thought you’d have put Jane in the front, you don’t want an old chatterbox like me distracting you—’
‘Just shut the door, please, before that van takes it clean off,’ I said, more brusquely than I intended.
She gave another squeal and yanked the door shut. Then, ‘Oh dear, I seem to have got my coat caught in the . . . Just a minute and I’ll . . . There, all set and ready to go. We’re so grateful, Mark, really we are, I was saying to Mother only this morning . . . ’
I tried to ignore her and concentrate on negotiating the traffic, but it was more of a challenge than I’d expected. Although we reached Highbury Foods in ten minutes, it felt likethirty, with Jane never saying a word and Mary hardly pausing for breath. Later, as I drew into my parking space at Donwell Organics, I calculated that three weeks — Dave Ford’s estimate for repairing Mary’s car — would mean twenty-nine more journeys like this morning’s.
In the office, things went from bad to worse. I found that one of my best employees in India had resigned and Cherry was off sick. Just as I was switching my phone through to Sue, the Finance Director’s PA, it rang with an external call.
I answered it, in the absurd hope that it might be Emma. ‘Knightley.’
‘Is thatMarrrkKnightley?’ A woman’s voice, but definitely not Emma’s.
‘Yes,’ I said. ‘Who is this?’
‘Augusta Hawkins, strategic financial consultant at The Maple Grrrove Consultancy, for businesses that can afforrrd the best. Now, Marrrk, I’ve been reading up on the orrrganic food industry and I just know I can save your company lots of money. I need to come and tell you all about it, how about tomorrow at two thirrrty?’
‘I’ve never heard of you or your company, Augusta, so—’
‘Call me Gusty,’ she purred.
Gusty? Ah yes . . . ‘Are you Philip Elton’s, er, friend?’
‘I am, and he’s putting in a good word for me at Highburrry Foods even as we speak, so you’d better get in quick, Marrrk, because my services will be in grrreat demand.’ Her tone hardened. ‘Tomorrow at two thirrrty, have you put it in your diary yet?’
‘Hold on, I’m not putting anything in my diary,’ I said, testily. ‘It’s very kind of you to offer to help out, Gusty, but I’m going to have to say no. Now I’m sure you’ve got lots of other phone calls to make, so I’ll let you get on.’
‘You have such a charrrming way of saying no that I’m even more determined to make you say yes.’ She gave a husky laugh. ‘But I can hold off until we get to know each other. Mind, I’ve heard a lot aboutyoualready from our mutual cleaning lady, Mrs Burrrn. And, once you’ve got to know me — we’ll be moving in the same cirrrcles, of course, professionallyandsocially — you’ll be begging to join my elite clientele, as we say at Maple Grrrove.’
I did my best to remain civil. ‘We’ll just have to wait and see, won’t we? And now I’m due at a meeting. Goodbye.’ I slammed the receiver down and switched my phone through to Sue without further delay. Gusty sounded like the sort of person I’d go to great lengths to avoid; I was sure she and Elton were made for each other.
