Page 84 of The Importance of Being Emma
‘Yes, a sort of wrap-up, since he’s going to be mentoring Jane in future.’
Bombshell number two. I knew he wouldn’t be mentoring me any more, but . . .
Dad went on, ‘He discussed it with me and, in the circumstances, we decided it was for the best.’
‘What — what circumstances?’ I felt myself go cold. Surely he wouldn’t have told Dad about last night?
‘Well, he’s always been a great fan of hers, hasn’t he?’ Dad said cheerfully. ‘And he seems to think she’ll be more responsive than you, at the moment anyway. Benefit more from his expertise, that sort of thing.’
All at once I was back in the hotel bedroom shouting, ‘Wasn’t I just a substitute for Tamara?’ And every word of his reply was branded on my memory: ‘Yes, you were. Only not as good.’
Oh, I got the message all right. He may still be getting over Tamara but, when he did finally move on, it would be to Jane Fairfax. Such a deserving cause, so much more responsive than me to his bloody expertise! The mentoring would be a front for getting time alone together without raising too many eyebrows; no doubt he’d be just as unprofessional with her as he’d been with me, as soon as he got the chance . . .
Dad was eyeing me anxiously. ‘You do understand, don’t you, darling? And Jane’s only here for a short while, whereas you can have mentoring any time.’
I gave him a bright smile. ‘Of course I understand. Let me just take my things up to my room, then I’ll come and have breakfast with you. Put the kettle on, please, I’m gasping for a coffee.’
He went into the kitchen while I hurried upstairs. As soon as I reached my room, I sank onto the bed and ripped open the envelope.
The letter was very short and to the point.
Emma,
If you find out you’re pregnant as a result of last night, please let me know as soon as possible. I would make every effort to discuss the situation sensibly with you and whoever else may have to be involved.
‘Whoever else may have to be involved’. In other words, Jane.
If you’re not pregnant, then I suggest we forget what happened.
Mark.
Forget what happened? Was it that easy to contract amnesia? Every time we met, I’d think of what he lookedlike naked. Every time we kissed at family gatherings, I’d be reminded of other kisses, far less platonic. Every time I saw his hands move, I’d remember exactly what they were capable of . . .
It was obvious that he thought of last night as a big mistake, just two sex-starved people who’d had too much to drink. But he was being his usual responsible self, ever mindful of the consequences of his actions.
If I was pregnant, I certainly wouldn’t be going to him and Jane ‘to discuss the situation sensibly’.
I’d handle it all by myself, whether he liked it or not.
* * *
~~MARK~~
On Monday I took Jane out for lunch and another mentoring meeting. It went quite well until we touched on more personal matters.
I’d been meaning to ask her about the Highbury Foods Christmas party and saw my chance when she made an apology for her poor appetite.
‘You didn’t eat much on Saturday night, either,’ I said casually. ‘And what happened to you later on? I didn’t see you again after our dance.’
She lowered her gaze. ‘I felt rather ill, so I went upstairs to lie down for a bit. I must have fallen asleep.’
‘Ill? What was the matter?’
‘Indigestion probably. And I was tired.’
‘You seem to be generally off colour at the moment. Mary’s quite worried about you.’ I paused. ‘I don’t want to intrude, but I’m happy to listen if you’ve got a problem and you need to talk it through.’
She stiffened. ‘That’s kind of you, but really I’m fine.’
