She had to change, and there might just be time to snatch a snack in the hospital canteen before she was back on the ward.
During the next two weeks Emma did not give herself time to dwell on the reasons behind Damon Thorne's demand for her services. Her days were full with her work, and with obtaining the necessary clothes and documents which would take her to Nassau, and at night, if she could not sleep, she took a sleeping pill and refused to consider the consequences.
The staff at the hospital were naturally curious about her sudden resignation, and she had had to let it be known that she was taking up a post with Damon Thorne's household in the Bahamas.
‘But, darling,’ her friend Joanna Denham had exclaimed, ‘didn't you once know him rather well? I mean, his name is certainly familiar. Isn't he that American property millionaire you once ran around with?'
Emma had stifled her embarrassment, and replied airily: ‘He's only half-American, actually. His mother was English. And yes, I did used to know him, but not … awfully well.'
Their relationship, hers and Damon Thorne's, had been in the days before Joanna came to the hospital. She could only have heard gossip and Emma had no intention of illustrating their association. Instead, she made it sound as though they had merely been acquaintances.
‘Well, anyway,’ Joanna continued, ‘I think you're doing the right thing. Working in a hospital is all very well, but I'd give anything for a bit of sunshine myself.'
Emma had let her resignation sound as though it was her decision, and not the result of coercion. Her one regret was that the Matron of the hospital had had such faith in her, and now it looked as though she was ungrateful for all the Matron had done for her. But it was impossible to explain, without involving Johnny, and after all, this was wholly for his benefit.
The night before she left the hospital, the nurses threw a party for her, and afterwards they went back to the flat for a final nightcap. Apart from Emma and five other nurses, there were two medical students, two housemen, Johnny, and Martin Webster, a friend of his.
They were a noisy crowd, and Emma thought regretfully that it would be a long time before she enjoyed herself so much again. They put on the record player, and danced to records, and teased Emma about the kind of life she was going to have. They all seemed to envy her, and Emma was beginning to think that it might not be so bad after all. Damon Thorne was hardly likely to be around much. He was too restless a man, too concerned with the power of his empire. And it was quite a way from London to Nassau, even in these days of fast travel. It wasn't so far from New York, of course, but she doubted his capacity for finding an island entertaining for long.
She was in the kitchen, making coffee, when the doorbell rang. Johnny went to answer it, thinking it might be one of their neighbours coming to complain about the noise. But instead, Damon Thorne stood on the threshold.
Emma had come to the kitchen door, to see what was going on, and when her eyes met those of Damon Thorne's her heart almost stopped beating.
Johnny stepped back, and shrugged his shoulders. ‘Are you coming in, Mr. Thorne?’ he asked sardonically.
Damon barely glanced at him, but stepped past him into the lounge. His bulk seemed to dominate the room, and the girls and boys stopped dancing and watched him.
‘Can I see you for a minute, Emma?’ he asked, his eyes surveying the debris of full ashtrays and empty glasses.
Emma bit her lip. ‘I … well … as you can see, there's a party going on,’ she said awkwardly. ‘Couldn't it wait until the morning?'
‘I'm afraid not. The kitchen will do.'
He crossed the room, the others stepping back to allow him passage as though it was his right, and Emma grimaced to herself and stood back into the small kitchen. Damon followed her in, and firmly closed the door behind him, leaning back against it. Immediately, they could hear the others begin talking and laughing again, and Emma relaxed a little.
‘What do you want?’ she asked, untying the apron which she had worn over her orange pleated dress.
Damon's eyes travelled the length of her body, and then returned to rest on her mouth for a moment, unconsciously disturbing Emma's emotions. Despite his age, there was more power and vitality emanating from him than from any of the younger men in the other room, and beside him they seemed almost youthful and unsophisticated and very inexperienced.
Then he shrugged, and drew out his cigar case. ‘Actually, I came to assure myself that you were keeping your side of the bargain,’ he remarked casually, and in so doing arousing Emma's annoyance. ‘Johnny will have told you his mistakes have all been rectified.'
‘He hasn't mentioned it,’ replied Emma shortly. ‘In any case, I have no doubt that you've kept sufficient evidence to implicate him should I do anything to baulk you at this stage.'
‘You're so right,’ he said mockingly. ‘However, I gather this is in the nature of a farewell party. I called round earlier to see you, and when I could get no reply I happened to bump into one of your neighbours who was only too willing to supply me with the details.'
‘How convenient for you,’ said Emma. ‘Well, is that all?'
‘Not quite. I'm leaving for Hong Kong in the morning. That's why I'm here tonight. I shan't see you again before you leave. Miss Weldon tells me you have all the necessary literature and you know my cousin Chris will meet you in Nassau.'
‘Yes.’ Emma's voice was flat.
‘Good.’ He nodded and straightened. ‘Don't look so miserable, Emma. I guarantee you won't find life boring. Sainte Dominique is near enough to New Providence to provide as much entertainment as you could find anywhere in England.'
Emma's eyes flashed angrily. ‘You won't accept that I might prefer this cold, dull island, will you?’ she exclaimed. ‘To me, London is home. I don't want to go to the Caribbean, however glamorous you make it sound.'
He smiled derisively. ‘What shows your ignorance of such things,’ he remarked lazily. ‘In this, as in other matters, Emma, you think you know best. Do you really believe that still?'
Emma's cheeks burned painfully. ‘Please go,’ she said, in a muffled voice.
‘With pleasure,’ he nodded, and swung open the door.
After he had gone, Joanna came to Emma's side.
‘Is that your new employer?’ she cried in astonishment.
Emma nodded.
‘But, darling, he's marvellous, isn't he? Good lord, if I were in your shoes I'd be whooping for joy. No wonder poor old St. Benedict's had to take a back seat.'
Emma shook her head. ‘Oh, Joanna, it's not like that at all…'
Joanna looked sceptical. ‘My dear, if it's true what they say, that you and he were once like that,’ she twisted two fingers together as she spoke, ‘then if I were you I'd try my darnedest to get the ball rolling again. After all, darling, you are twenty-five, and most girls are married by then.'
Emma managed a smile. ‘I'm a career woman, Joanna. Didn't you know?'
But when she was alone in bed that night Emma found scalding
