Page 93 of The Importance of Being Emma
She didn’t answer, just poured the tea carefully into the cups.
I cleared my throat. ‘As I said in that letter, if you’re not pregnant then maybe we should just forget what happened.’
A pause; then, ‘Believe me, I already have.’
I didn’t believe for one moment she had, but I certainly believed she wanted to.
Slowly, silently, I turned and walked to the front door.
* * *
~~EMMA~~
He’d caught me unawares in the kitchen but I was pretty sure I’d put on a convincing act. I mean, he certainly hadn’t hung around, hadn’t even said goodbye. He must have been as relieved as I’d pretended to be.
Ironic, wasn’t it? I’d only just decided I would tell him I wasn’t pregnant, to get him out of the way. Then along came my period, right on cue, making the lie totally unnecessary. I should have been delighted that there would be no obvious consequences from that disastrous night. Life could return to normal once he went back to India. So why did I feel so empty? Why did I wish I was pregnant, if only — out of pure selfishness — to have a little part of him to myself? It was crazy, so crazy that I almost laughed out loud. Except — I couldn’t; I felt more like crying.
I was about to take the tray through to the drawing room, when John came in.
‘Thought you must have gone to China to pick the tea leaves,’ he said. ‘Presumably Mark delayed you.’
I gave a wan smile. ‘Not really, he was only here a couple of minutes.’
‘Oh?’ He took the tray from me. ‘What’s going on between you two, anyway?’
‘Going on?’
He rolled his eyes. ‘For God’s sake, your sister and father may be blind as bats but any normal person can see that something’s up. And I can always tell when Mark’s rattled.’ He looked straight at me, waiting for an answer.
I took a deep breath and chose to be extremely economical with the truth. ‘I guess his professional pride has taken a bit of a battering. Dad asked him to mentor me, but it hasn’t worked out.’
John gave a loud guffaw. ‘You mean Mark got Henry to pay for something he’s been doing free of charge for years? Crafty devil. So why hasn’t it worked out?’
‘I’ve no idea. Why don’t you ask him?’
‘Oh, don’t worry, I will.’ And he strode out of the kitchen like a man on a mission.
Chapter Twelve
~~MARK~~
Early on Boxing Day, the phone beside my bed rang and rang — until I answered it, purely in the hope that the caller would then leave me in peace.
A voice barked in my ear, ‘We’re coming home.’ It was Father, sounding on the verge of an apoplectic fit.
‘I know, in February,’ I muttered, my brain fogged with sleep and whisky.
‘No, we’re coming homenow. Well, as soon as we can. Once we’ve put into port, we’re going to get off this bloody boat and stay on dry land until we find a flight. Might manage it before New Year if we’re lucky.’
I sat bolt upright. ‘You’re not ill, are you?’
‘Nothing like that, it’s the lifestyle. Far too much food and no decent exercise, I’m longing to be back on the golf course. I’ve been complaining to Saffron for weeks but she wouldn’t listen until today.’ He lowered his voice. ‘Got herself weighed this morning and went berserk. She’d put on three pounds — only three bloody pounds! I feel as if I’ve put on thirty, I’m going to have to spend the next six months getting it off.’
I took a deep breath. ‘Look, if you’re—’
He ignored me and went on, ‘She’s driving me round the bend, it’s no fun seeing so much of her, I can’t—’ He broke off, then said more calmly, ‘Sorry, I interrupted you, what were you going to say?’
‘Just — if you’re coming home early, how do you feel about me going straight back to India rather than staying until February?’
