The Emma Harte 7-Book Collection: A Woman of Substance, Hold the Dream, To Be the Best, Emma’s Secret, Unexpected Blessings, Just Rewards, Breaking the Rules

Emma looked up at him and smiled. ‘I am going to turn it into a park. A beautiful park for the villagers of Fairley, and I am going to name it after my mother.’

CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO (#ulink_3d5849a1-19da-566a-83f6-50b656de6674)

A week later, on a lovely evening at the end of May, Emma stepped out of a taxi at the Savoy Hotel in London and hurried through the lobby to the American Bar. She saw Frank before he saw her. He was seated at a table facing the lobby, and as she mounted the short flight of steps into the bar she noticed that he looked reflective and brooding as he nursed his drink.

‘Penny for your thoughts,’ she said, coming to a standstill in front of him.

Momentarily startled, Frank raised his head quickly and his eyes lit up. ‘There you are!’ He rose and pulled out a chair for her. ‘And don’t you look lovely, our Em.’

‘Why, thank you, darling.’ She smoothed the skirt of her lime-green silk dress and took off her white kid gloves. ‘It is a scorcher, isn’t it? I think I’ll have a gin fizz, Frank, please. It will refresh me. I had quite a hectic day at the store.’

Frank ordered the drink and lit a cigarette. ‘I’m sorry to drag you all the way down to the Strand, but it is closer to Fleet Street and I’ve got to be back at the paper in a short while.’

‘I didn’t mind coming here. I rather like this bar. Anyway, why did you want to see me? You sounded urgent when you phoned me at the store. I was a little worried, to tell you the truth.’

‘I’m sorry, Emma. I didn’t mean to do that. Actually, it’s not all that urgent, but I did want to talk to you.’

‘What about?’

‘Arthur Ainsley.’

Emma’s shapely brows shot up. ‘Arthur. Good heavens, why do you want to talk about him?’

‘Winston and I have been worried about you lately. You’re sitting in a hopeless marriage and it disturbs us both. In fact, we think you should divorce Arthur. I promised Winston I would broach the idea to you.’

‘A divorce!’ Emma laughed gaily. ‘Whatever for? Arthur doesn’t bother me.’

‘He’s not right for you, Emma, and you know it. There’s his terrible drinking, for one thing, and the way he carries on with—’ Frank swallowed and drew on his cigarette.

‘Other women,’ Emma finished for him. She looked amused. ‘I realize the wife is always supposed to be the last to know. However, I’ve been aware of Arthur’s activities for a long time. You don’t have to spare my feelings.’

‘And it doesn’t upset you?’ Frank asked.

‘My monumental lack of interest in Arthur Ainsley and the way he conducts his life must surely negate the idea that I care for him. Actually, I have no feelings for Arthur whatsoever.’

‘Then why not get a divorce, Emma?’

‘Because of the children, mainly.’

‘Fiddlesticks! You’re using them as an excuse. Edwina and Kit are away at boarding school. They wouldn’t be affected—’

‘I was thinking of the twins, Frank. They are Arthur’s children and they need a father.’

‘What kind of father is Arthur?’ Frank snorted.

Emma picked up the drink the waiter had placed before her. ‘Cheers.’

‘Cheers. Now, come on, give me an answer.’

‘Well, he is a presence in their lives. He’s very fond of them, and quite good with them, really.’

‘When he’s sober,’ Frank pointed out with a degree of acerbity.

Emma sighed. ‘There’s a grain of truth in what you say, of course. But look here, Frank, I honestly don’t want to divorce Arthur, even though I have grounds. At least, not right now. You know I hate upheaval and I really do think it’s the wrong time. Perhaps when the children are older I’ll consider it.’ Her voice trailed off and she looked pensive. She cheered. ‘I’m reasonably content. Arthur doesn’t interfere with me, or the business, and you know how much I love that.’

‘You can’t take ledgers to bed with you, our Em. They don’t keep you warm on a cold night, and they certainly can’t cherish and love you as you should be cherished and loved.’

Emma laughed. ‘Why is it you men are always thinking of sex?’

‘I did say “cherished” and “loved”. You’re a young woman. You should have some companionship, a relationship with a decent man. My God, you must be bloody lonely!’

A cloud passed over Emma’s face and her eyes were briefly sad. She shook her head slowly. ‘I don’t have time to be lonely. I’m very busy these days, as you well know, constantly travelling between here and Leeds. And I am adamant about the divorce, Frank. Now, let’s not waste any more time talking about Arthur. Tell me about the house you found in Hampstead. Does Natalie like it?’

Frank groaned, acknowledging it was useless to pursue the conversation, and said, ‘Yes, she does. So do I. It’s ideal for us. But I would like you to take a look at it, and give me your opinion. It’s quite expensive, you know.’

‘I’d be delighted. And don’t worry about the price, Frank. If it’s more than you can afford, I’ll give you the difference.’

‘Oh, Emma, I couldn’t take it,’ Frank protested.

‘Don’t be ridiculous. Years ago Blackie told me that money was meant to be spent and he was correct. I want you to have a nice house, to start this marriage off on the right foot. I want you to be happy, Frank.’ She laughed. ‘Whoever said money doesn’t buy happiness was misinformed, in my opinion. It buys a lot of happiness, for a lot of people. And frankly, I’d rather be miserable with money than without it.’ She squeezed Frank’s arm. ‘You know anything I have is yours and Winston’s. It will be part of my wedding present to you and Natalie.’

‘You’re so generous, Emma. I really appreciate it. And what can I say but thank you very much.’ Frank sipped his drink and continued, ‘Can you spare an hour to view it tomorrow?’

‘Indeed I can. How is dear Natalie?’

Frank beamed. ‘She’s marvellous. A treasure. I love that girl, Emma. I really do.’

‘I know. You’re lucky, Frank. You’re going to have a wonderful marriage. She’s—’ Emma stopped and caught her breath. From her position at the table, a vantage point in the bar, Emma could see a major portion of the lobby and her eyes were now riveted on two men talking together near the reception desk.

Frank, watching Emma carefully, said, ‘What’s wrong?’

Emma glanced at Frank, white with shock. ‘It’s Paul McGill!’ She looked down the steps again. ‘Oh my God! He’s coming this way. I think he’s heading for the bar. I must leave immediately, before he sees me.’

Frank put a restraining hand on her arm. ‘It’s perfectly all right, Emma. Don’t get excited. And please don’t leave,’ he implored softly.

Emma’s eyes blazed. ‘Frank! You knew he was in London, didn’t you?’

‘Yes.’

‘You didn’t – you couldn’t possibly have asked him to join us?’

Frank did not answer. He looked down at his drink.

Emma hissed, ‘My God! You did!’

‘Guilty, I’m afraid,’ Frank murmured.

‘Oh, Frank, how could you?’ Emma half rose, and Frank pressed her gently back into the chair.