By way of a peace offering, fancy coming down later this evening for a drink?’
She smiled. ‘Thanks, I’d like that very much.’
In the quiet of her room, Emily collapsed into a chair, suddenly weary. The outing with the twins had been great fun, but after a morning spent cleaning two apartments, followed by a couple of hours’ solid slog on her laptop, the confrontation with Lucas Tennent had rather knocked the stuffing out of her. He’d had every right to sack her on the spot, too, which would have done serious damage to her finances. Lucky for her he’d been feeling so rough, otherwise he might not have taken her trespass nearly so well. She’d felt like Goldilocks caught by the bear. Emily chuckled. Wrong hair, wrong fairy tale. There were no fireplaces in Lucas Tennent’s flat, but her role was Cinderella just the same. And she’d done no harm, other than just being there in his kitchen, where she wasn’t supposed to be on a Friday afternoon.
But from now on her activities in Mr Lucas Tennent’s flat would be restricted to the cleaning duties he paid her for. Emily frowned, wondering how he was feeling. He’d looked so ill she’d been a bit reluctant to leave him to fend for himself. Which was nonsense. If she hadn’t stayed on for an extra hour or two she wouldn’t have met him, nor known about his flu.
Emily took a reviving shower, dried her hair and treated her hands and face to some extra care, grateful to Nat for asking her down for a drink. Much as she despised herself for it, Friday evenings were still hard to get used to on her own. And to add to her pleasure, when she arrived in Nat’s small, panelled drawing-room her fellow tenant, Mark Cooper, gave her a hug and shepherded her to the sofa to join his girlfriend, Bryony Talbot.
‘Hi, Emily.’ Bryony patted the place beside her. ‘Come and sit down. Are you exhausted? Nat said you’ve been entertaining the twins.’
‘And enjoying it. Evening all. How are you feeling now, Mark?’ asked Emily. ‘Recovered from your cold?’
He nodded, smiling smugly. ‘Bryony kissed me better.’
Nat shook his head as he handed Emily a glass of wine. ‘His own private nurse, lucky beggar.’
‘But my medical skills don’t come cheap,’ said Bryony promptly. ‘He’s buying me a very expensive dinner tomorrow night.’
Emily chuckled. ‘Demand Claridges, at the very least.’
Mark winked at her. ‘Flash your dimple at me like that, Emily, and I’ll bring you back a doggy bag.’
‘Gee, thanks!’
‘Lots of strange bugs about where I earn my crust, though,’ he commented, squeezing between his beloved and Emily on the sofa. ‘Move up, you two.’
‘Can’t you sit on a chair?’ complained Bryony affectionately.
‘Much more fun like this, darling.’
Emily felt a stab of concern at Mark’s mention of bugs. But Lucas Tennent was big enough and old enough to look after himself. And he could call on professional medical help if he became really ill; a thought which allowed her to relax in the stimulating company of people she liked very much. Mark rented the floor below hers in Nat’s house, and along with Bryony had been a good friend when Emily, in urgent need of somewhere in London to live, had taken Nat up on his offer of a room. With two homes to keep up, her landlord insisted he could do with all the extra money he could get. Emily had scoffed at his idea of rent, which was ridiculously low for London. But Nat was a close friend of her brother, Andrew, and remained adamant. In the end she had pocketed the pride she couldn’t afford, grateful for his help and generosity.
After a place to live, a new job had been the next priority on the agenda. When Emily moved into the room in Nat’s house he had been trying for some time to find a suitable replacement for his cleaner, who wanted to retire. Because the elegant house was very old, and correspondingly fragile, he needed someone who would treat it with the care and respect it deserved. But when Emily proposed herself as substitute, at the same rate of pay, Nat thought she was joking at first. At last, when he realised she was in deadly earnest, he agreed with enthusiasm, and the moment Mark heard about it he begged Emily to take on his rooms as well. When it became obvious that Emily actually enjoyed cleaning, Nat asked permission to recommend her to one of his married female colleagues who’d just acquired a new flat in Bermondsey. The added job proved such a happy arrangement that Liz Donaldson soon suggested Emily kill two birds with one stone and also take on a friend’s loft apartment in the converted warehouse across the street. And so what had been intended as a stop-gap before finding another secretarial job suddenly snowballed into a whole new career.
Emily’s parents disapproved strongly, and friends thought she was raving mad. But in secret she was working to plan. The new job left her mind and imagination free to function separately from her busy, careful hands, and at the same time paid enough to provide financial backing while she tried her hand at writing a novel. Taken on the hop, she’d had to fib to Lucas Tennent, because not even her nearest and dearest had any idea what she was really up to in her spare time.
The plot of her novel was already mapped out, with some of the main characters automatically cast: villain and wicked witch no problem at all. But she’d had difficulty in conjuring up a charismatic central male. Nat was outrageously handsome, and Mark boyish-faced and charming. But, despite covert observation of both men as a possible role model, her hero had stubbornly refused to come to life. Then Lucas Tennent had caught her in flagrante with her laptop today, and wham, her main character had materialised right before her startled, guilty eyes.
After a couple of hours, much as she was enjoying herself in such convivial company, Emily resisted pleas to stay longer and went up early to her room. She sat down at her desk, booted up the laptop, and set to work on her novel. By the time she went to bed she felt tired, but very pleased with herself. Adding Lucas Tennent’s physical assets to the previously bare bones of her central male character had provided her with exactly the charismatic hero she needed for her plot.
The moment Emily was dressed next morning the twins came knocking on her door. ‘Hi, you two,’ she said affectionately.
‘Dad said we mustn’t bother you if you’re busy,’ said Thomas in one breath, then smiled cajolingly. ‘But please come down for coffee. We’ve got to go after lunch.’
‘We’ll miss you,’ said Lucy, giving Emily a hug.
‘But you’ll be seeing Mummy today, sweetheart, so you won’t need me. I bet she’s missed you a lot,’ said Emily, deliberately cheerful. ‘Give her my love.’
Lucy’s big blue eyes filled with tears. ‘Emily, will you ask Mummy to be friends with Daddy again?’
‘You can’t ask Emily to do that!’ said her twin gruffly.
Emily went downstairs with the children, wishing she could do something to help. But the Sedleys’ private affairs were none of her business. She’d known them both a long time, it was true, but had no idea what sin Nat had committed that Thea found impossible to forgive. Nor did she want to know. Sorting out her own personal life was more than enough.
Emily enjoyed a lively half-hour with the twins, but when they were settled in front of Saturday morning television Nat beckoned her into his kitchen and shut the door.
‘Why has Lucy been crying?’
Emily looked at him squarely. ‘She wanted me to ask Thea to be friends with you again, and Tom told her that wasn’t
