Life has dealt you a bad hand in this particular instance. But you’ll survive. We all do.
Quite unexpectedly tears came into her eyes and trickled down her cheeks. She searched her pockets for a handkerchief and dabbed at her wrinkled old face. She felt like weeping buckets of tears. But that was not her way, giving in like that. And tears solved nothing. She blew her nose, pocketed her handkerchief, and stood up, smoothing down her dress as she did.
Emma walked over to the windows again, taking a few deep breaths, drawing on her great strength, her will power. And slowly she pulled herself together. Her thoughts came back to Shane. Perhaps Winston was right in his assessment. Maybe Shane hadn’t realized how he truly felt about Paula until it was too late. Then again, maybe he had believed he had all the time in the world to claim her for his own. We all think that time is endless when we’re young, she sighed to herself. The years ahead seem to stretch out forever and indefinitely. But they don’t … they disappear in a flash, in the wink of an eye. Blackie edged into her mind. She wondered what he would have to say about this situation. She decided, at once, not to tell him. It would upset him, cause him too much grief.
Last night Blackie had said that life was too damned short for dilly-dallying. There was a great deal of truth and wisdom in his words. Especially when it came to a couple of old warriors like themselves. Emma made another sudden decision. She was going to accept Blackie’s invitation to go on that trip around the world after all. No more dilly-dallying for her.
Turning away from the window, Emma walked briskly across the floor and left the library. She went into the drawing room purposefully, seeking Blackie, picturing his expression when she told him to put his Plan with a capital P into operation immediately. And this she fully intended to do the minute she found him in the crowded room.
‘Do you think all families are like ours?’
‘What do you mean – exactly?’ Winston asked, turning to face Emily.
‘We’ve always got a drama of one kind or another erupting. It seems to me there’s never been a minute’s peace for as long as I can remember. If it’s not the awful aunts and uncles being beastly and scratching everyone’s eyes out, it’s our generation quarrelling and creating the most dreadful upsets. To tell you the truth, I feel as though I’m on a battlefield half the time, and I don’t think I’m a very good combatant.’
Winston chuckled at her mournful tone, which reflected her dire expression. ‘You manage all right, Emily. You’re a good little scrapper – so I’ve noticed.’
The two of them sat together on an old stone garden seat at the bottom on the rolling lawns that sloped away from the wide terrace which fronted the Peach Drawing Room. Behind them, Pennistone Royal soared up into a sky of deepening blue, awesome in its grandeur and majestic beauty, the many windows glittering in the sunshine of late afternoon.
Now Winston said more thoughtfully, ‘But to answer your question, I don’t suppose other families are quite like ours. After all, how many have an Emma Harte as the matriarch?’
Emily drew away, looking up at him, a small frown puckering her smooth brow. Her eyes held his gravely as she said, ‘Don’t blame Grandma for the dramatics that are being endlessly enacted. I think she’s an innocent bystander, poor thing. I really get angry when I think of the heartache some members of this family cause her.’
Winston exclaimed, ‘I wasn’t being critical of her, if that’s what you think. Or suggesting for one minute that she’s responsible for these situations, Emily. I agree with you – she’s not at fault. I was merely pointing out that as the most remarkable woman of our time, and an original, there’s bound to be controversy surrounding her. Look, she’s had a very complex and complicated life, and one she’s certainly lived to the fullest. She has shoals of children and grandchildren, and if you include all of us Hartes, which you must, her family is huge. Bigger than most. And don’t forget her other close attachments – the O’Neill and Kallinski clans. Add up the numbers – and you’ve got an army, more or less.’
‘Everything you say is true, Winston. Still, I do get awfully fed up with the infighting and bickering. I just wish we could all live peacefully together, and get on with it, for God’s sake.’
‘Yes … but there’s another thing you must take into consideration, Emily. Immense wealth and power are vested in her, and in this family, so obviously there are going to be jealousies and competitiveness and all kinds of machinations. It strikes me that intrigues are inescapable, given the nature of people … they can be rotten, Emily. Selfish, greedy, self-serving and ruthless. I’ve discovered that some people will stop at nothing when their own interests are at stake.’
‘Don’t I know it!’ Emily stared down into the murky depths of the pond, looking troubled. Finally she lifted her head, swung her eyes to Winston. ‘When I mentioned dramas a few minutes ago, naturally I was referring to Shane. But, I must admit, I sensed things this afternoon, you know, undercurrents. As usual, the room was divided into camps. There was a lot of manoeuvring going on.’
‘And who was doing what to whom?’ Winston asked with some alertness, his curiosity aroused.
‘Jonathan and Sarah are as thick as thieves, for one thing. That’s very strange, because I know she never used to like him. I can’t put my finger on it, yet I can’t help feeling they’re concocting something. Alexander is probably suspicious of that new liaison. Didn’t you notice how he’s steered clear of them today?’
‘Now that you mention it, yes. Personally, I’ve never had much time for Jonathan Ainsley. He was a bully as a child, and like all bullies he’s basically a coward. He projects a lot of charm these days, but I don’t expect he’s changed much over the years, not inside. I haven’t forgotten the time he hit me over the head with a cricket bat. The nasty little bugger. He could have done me real damage.’
‘I know he could, and he was always horrid to me when we were growing up. I still believe it was Master Jonathan who cut the tyres on that bicycle Grandy gave me when I was ten, even though he denied it when she challenged him. He came up with some sort of plausible alibi about his whereabouts that day, but I just know it was a total fib.’ Emily scowled. ‘As for Sarah, well, she’s been a loner, and secretive, all of her life.’
‘You know what they say – still waters run deep and the devil’s at the bottom,’ Winston remarked.
He bent down, picked up a pebble and idly threw it into the pond, watching the ripples eddying out from the pool’s centre. ‘There have been occasions when I’ve thought that Sarah has the hots for Shane.’
Emily started in surprise. ‘You’re not the only one,’ she admitted quietly. ‘Well, fat chance she’s got …’ She stopped, added swiftly, ‘That sounded mean, and I didn’t intend to be catty, Winston. I don’t dislike Sarah. She can be very sweet, and I feel sorry for her really. Carrying a torch for a man like Shane O’Neill must be positively awful. Even heartbreaking, perhaps. She and I have never been all that close, but … well, I always thought she was true blue – until today. Now I’m not sure any more.’
‘She might have been using Jonathan as a shield, and that’s all. It was pretty obvious she was trying to disappear into the woodwork, because of Shane’s presence, I’ve no doubt.’
‘Maybe you’re right.’ Changing the subject, Emily remarked, ‘Jim’s very
