Page 76 of The Importance of Being Emma
I managed a wan smile when Flynn whispered to me, ‘Doesn’t she mean “Bristols”?’, before returning to my thoughts.
Thoughts about Mark. Feelings of . . .
Gratitude, that was it; for my own sake as well as Harriet’s. After all, he’d rescued both of us from a humiliating scene, although I suspected no one else had noticed my instinctive reaction to Philip’s rudeness.
On one level, Mark had taken charge of the situation in his usual way — understated yet totally effective; on another level, his intervention had been nothing less than heroic. There was simply no other word for it.
I decided I would ask him for a dance, to thank him properly. So, when we’d finished the meal and the disco had started, I made my way towards him. But I had to grab the table to steady myself — probably the effect of too much wine and too little food. By the time I’d recovered, he was on the dance floor with Harriet; trust him to go the extra mile.
Dad beckoned to me from the next table and I went over, sympathy at the ready. ‘How was your special menu?’
He grimaced. ‘I’m not sure, there may be — repercussions. Kate and Tom are still taking me home, aren’t they? I hope they don’t stay too late.’
I made reassuring noises and moved away, on the pretext of checking that everyone was enjoying themselves. In reality, I was looking for Flynn. After such a promising start to the evening, I’d hardly exchanged two words with him. Now he was nowhere to be seen.
As I wandered round the room for the third time, I came to an abrupt halt. A few feet away, in a secluded corner, Mark was leaning back against a pillar; arms folded and eyes closed, the sadness on his face unmistakable.
He must really miss Tamara on a night like this . . .
I took a deep breath. ‘Mark, would you like to dance?’
He opened one eye, then the other, and gave a sardonic laugh. ‘With you? That’s the last sodding thing I need.’
I clenched my fists and turned away, his rejection stirring dark memories. ‘You’re as bad as Philip. No, you’re much, much worse!’
‘Didn’t mean it to come out like that, must be the drink,’ I heard him mutter.
What sort of apology was that?
I whirled round and almost spat the words at him. ‘Why did I bother even asking? I should’ve remembered — dancing with me won’t do anything for your image, because I’m like your little sister. Funny, you didn’t think of that when you kissed me. Not a very brotherly kiss, I seem to recall.’
‘Emma, I—’
‘Of course,’ I went on, lowering my voice to a hiss of contempt, ‘no one saw, so it didn’t matter. Whereas dancing with me in front of all these people—’
He interrupted me with a quiet, ‘You’ve got it all wrong.’
I waited for him to elaborate, but he just looked down at the floor. In that case . . . Another deep breath. ‘No, Mark,you’vegot it all wrong. I’m sick of you being Big Brother, always watching out for me and bossing me around. It may have worked in the past, but it’s not working now!’
His head snapped up; his eyes met mine at last and his mouth twisted into a grim smile. ‘You’re right, it’s not. Not in any way, shape or form.’
I hesitated, wrong-footed by his lack of resistance. Then, ‘Does that mean you’ll treat me like an adult from now on?’
‘An adult?’ He cleared his throat. ‘What exactly do you have in mind?’
I said the first thing that came into my head. ‘Pretend I’m Saint Jane. You know — beyond improvement, perfection on legs.’
‘Perfection on legs? God, those legs . . . Got me into trouble with Tamara, that did . . .’ His voice trailed away and I wondered what on earth he was rambling on about. He rubbed his temple as if soothing a nagging headache and went on, ‘Have you seen Jane? I was dancing with her before, then she just rushed off. Seemed a bit upset — any idea why?’
‘Ask her yourself. Ask her why she’s been so moody since she came back from her little holiday. Ask her who she’s having a secret affair with.’ I gave him a pitying look. ‘Funny, I’d have thought someone with your powers of perception could see through her, but you’re as gullible as everyone else.’
His eyes narrowed. ‘I’mgullible? You can talk, falling for all Churchill’s crap and wrapping yourself round him like cling film!’
How dare he!
For a few seconds we just glared at each other, provoked beyond words. Then I turned and fled to a place where I knew I’d be safe from him: the Ladies. As I burst through the door, I crashed into Batty and nearly sent her flying. When I mumbled an apology and tried to dodge past her, she grabbed my arm — almost, but unfortunately not quite, speechless with excitement.
‘I’ve been looking all over for you, dear, fancy bumping into you here.’ She gave a trill of laughter, then dropped her voice to a concerned whisper. ‘Poor Harriet, I heard all about Philip’s little . . . always knew there was a nasty streak in him, I remember that time when he . . . So Mark came to the rescue, didhe? They madesucha lovely couple on the dance floor, Sandy Perry and I almost wondered if there was something going on’ — knowing look — ‘but then he came over specially to ask Jane for the next one. And she agreed straightaway, even though she’d just refused to dance with . . . They made a lovely couple too, both so dark and tall andstriking, as Sandy put it . . . Actually, I’m very worried about Jane, she’s not been herself for weeks now. I wanted her to come home with me tonight but she insists on staying here as planned, although she did promise me she’d go up to her room nice and early. Which reminds me, dear, I’ve got a little bedtime treat for you . . . I expect you’re like me and can never get to sleep in a strange place.’
