Chapter 6
Robin’s alarm woke him early morning. Quickly turning to switch if off, so as not to wake Jasmine, he saw that she had already risen. He’d stayed over after a take-away and couple of bottles of wine and it always amazed him how Jasmine managed to get up so promptly, even after a heavy night’s drinking. He dressed and went downstairs to join her.
Jasmine was by the cooker, busy filling a frying pan. ‘Hi,’ she smiled as he came into the kitchen. ‘Fancy a cooked breakfast?’
It amazed him how well she looked in the morning too, all fresh-faced and energetic.
‘Sounds good, thanks,’ he replied, rubbing his eyes.
Despite it being Saturday, he and Jack were supposed to be looking at another possible building project. It was an old warehouse which had planning permission to turn into apartments in Lancaster by the quayside. A lot of money was to be made, especially in that location. Although at the moment, Robin was more interested in spending the weekend with his girlfriend rather than having to work. He wouldn’t normally mind as he did enjoy his job – helped by the fact he worked with his best mate – but lately he craved just a little more time to relax with Jasmine. It had been a long while since he’d been in a relationship and he wanted to relish the new one he’d just found.
He watched her cooking their breakfasts with ease, looking a million dollars in his eyes. Her silky blonde hair sat on elegant shoulders, her toned arms effortlessly moving from chopping board to frying pan. Jasmine must have sensed him watching her because she turned round to face him.
‘What are you staring at?’ she laughed.
‘You,’ Robin replied and got up to hug her from behind. He kissed the top of her head and sighed. ‘I wish I didn’t have to go to Lancaster with Jack today.’
‘I know, but it’s a good opportunity, isn’t it?’ said Jasmine.
‘Yeah, but if we do take the warehouse conversion on, we’ll not be starting it straight away.’
‘Oh, why?’ she asked, surprised to hear this.
‘Because, my lovely,’ he gently turned her round to face him, ‘we are going away on a mini break.’ He’d decided there and then they were due some quality time together.
‘Are we?’ she sounded even more surprised now.
‘Oh yes,’ he nodded resolutely and kissed her full on the lips.
Jasmine smiled, liking the sound of this. ‘Where to?’
‘I was thinking a city break?’
Jasmine bobbed her head in agreement. She quite liked the idea of bustling streets and bright lights. It would be a change to the quiet, costal countryside of Samphire Bay.
‘London?’ she suggested.
‘Good idea,’ Robin replied. Already he was filled with anticipation. He imagined the pair of them taking in the sights, hitting the shops and enjoying romantic evening meals. Yes, that was just what they needed.
What Emma needed was a stiff drink to steady her nerves. Looking in
the full-length mirror, she grimaced at her reflexion. The person
staring back just wasn’t her. The navy suit her dad insisted she bought
for the interview looked hideous and the curls she’d tried to tame just
made her hair flat and straight as cardboard. Even the ‘sensible’ court
shoes that she’d picked up in a charity shop appeared old womanish.
‘I look like a Tory MP,’ she complained as her dad popped his head round the door.
Moving further into her bedroom he too gazed at his daughter and found it difficult to disagree.
‘I do, don’t I?’
Perry tipped his head thoughtfully to one side, hesitating to give his answer.
‘Just admit it, Dad, I look ridiculous,’ Emma sighed.
‘Well, there’s nothing wrong in looking smart for an interview,’ he tried to appease. It didn’t work.
‘Oh, sod it. I’m going as me ,’ Emma said in exasperation then proceeded to kick off the sensible shoes and open her wardrobe in defiance.
Her eyes scanned the rail packed with all sorts of colourful garments, from tie-dyed dresses, embroidered shirts, tassel hemmed skirts, patched denims, leather jackets, all manner of boots and trainers, the storage rammed full. In an attempt to compromise, she pulled out a black dress.
‘How about this?’ She held it up against her for Perry to see.
It was the right colour and length, he thought, but a halter neck? Wouldn’t that be a little too revealing for an interview?
As if reading his thoughts, Emma delved inside the wardrobe again and fished out her silver biker jacket.
‘With this?’ she asked.
‘Yes,’ said Perry with a thumbs up.
‘And how about these to match?’ Emma had dug out a pair of silver ankle boots.
‘Yes. Original, yet classy.’ Perry winked.
‘That’s me, Dad,’ replied Emma, laughing. Then she looked back into the mirror. ‘But this hair style definitely isn’t.’
On that Perry couldn’t agree more. He loved his daughter’s wild, chestnut hair.
‘I much prefer your curls,’ he granted, then left her to it.
‘So do I,’ called Emma and reached for her water spray. She dowsed her head until the flat, lifeless hair bounced back into its natural springy self, and she contained it with a thick, black ribbon.
The finished effect hit the mark.
‘There, that’s better,’ she nodded with more confidence when assessing her reflexion for the second time and marched downstairs.
‘Go knock ’em dead,’ Perry cheered in support. He was giving Emma a lift to the interview and was feeling nervous for her. Driving to Samphire Bay, he kept stealing side glances at his daughter. She seemed calm enough, now that she’d changed her appearance. Although he’d suggested the navy suit, he was glad Emma had had the conviction to wear her own choice of clothes. She was right, she had to be herself. And if that wasn’t good enough, they were the fools.
As Emma walked up the steps to the house she was greeted by Jennifer at the front entrance.
‘Hello, you must be Emma?’ she welcomed with a smile.
‘Yes,’ replied Emma, holding her hand out.
Jennifer shook it and showed her inside. Emma was once more in awe of the marbled hall and her eyes homed in on the grand piano she had previously played at the open day. Jennifer noticed.
‘Do you play?’ she asked.
‘Yes, I’ve actually played that one.’ Her head nodded towards the instrument.
‘Really?’ Jennifer said in surprise.
Emma gave her a quick explanation. As she did so, she heard a door creak open. Turning towards it, Jennifer quickly hurried her along the hall and into the library where the interviews were taking place.
‘Please, take a seat,’ Jennifer sat behind a desk and signalled Emma to sit opposite her.
All the time Emma was taking in her surroundings. The library was amazing with floor-to-ceiling shelving crammed with colourful books. It even had a ladder that ran across a wooden rail to access the top. She was enchanted by the place. Again, this wasn’t lost on Jennifer who smiled to herself. It was good to see that the girl was impressed. The previous interviewee seemed a touch underwhelmed, stating that the manor house where she had previously worked was far bigger. Unfortunately, the other remaining applicant had cancelled, saying she had decided to take another position overseas. This Emma looked like she appreciated her environment, which was a positive thing for Jennifer.
‘So, Emma, tell me a little bit about yourself,’ she started, and sat back in her chair.
‘Well, up to now I’ve worked in a bank and have just taken voluntary redundancy,’ replied Emma. She gave an outline of all the duties she had covered, keen to emphasise her organisational skills, honesty and time keeping, plus how she had been deputised to section manager on occasions. Then not wanting to sound too boring, added, ‘but my passion lies with the band I’m in,’ and went on to give a potted history of how she joined it and the gigs they performed.
Jennifer listened with interest, thinking how different this girl was, even her dress sense was a touch quirky. The one thing bothering her was if she would soon tire of housework. It was all well and good living inside a marvellous Art Deco house, but having to clean it was another matter. When she voiced her concern Emma shrugged.
‘It’s what I do at home, at least I’d be getting paid to do it here,’ she reasoned, before she went on to tell Jennifer about the circumstances at home, of how her mum had died when she was thirteen years old and that it was just her and her dad now.
Jennifer sat and listened with compassion, definitely warming to the girl. She had a natural confidence, no airs or graces, but appeared comfortable in her own skin. So far, so good. Now to outline all the duties that would be expected of her, including the cooking aspect.
‘The owner of the house lives alone, although he does entertain and you could be catering for large numbers at times,’ warned Jennifer, closely observing Emma’s reaction. ‘Sometimes at short notice,’ she threw in to really test her.
Emma remained unfazed. If anything, the question had sparked curiosity within. What did the owner do? Her mind cast back to the house open day and she tried to picture his face again. He’d worn dark sunglasses which had obscured his features. Had that been deliberate? She also remembered that his deep, smooth voice had resonated with her. She’d definitely heard it before. Her curiosity started to build momentum. Deciding to dig for information, Emma considered her reply before answering.
‘What kind of hosting are we looking at? Social gatherings or business?’
‘Would that make any difference?’ replied Jennifer.
‘Just considering whether the gatherings be a formal, sit-down dinner or… a party buffet for example?’
‘Both,’ said Jennifer, staring directly at her, not giving anything away.
‘I see. Well, as long as I was given clear instruction as to what exactly was required, then yes, I’m sure I could manage that.’
‘Good,’ nodded Jennifer.
‘I could even throw in the entertainment!’ Emma exclaimed, struck by the idea. She was of course referring to her singing and playing the piano but realised what she’d just blurted out could be misconstrued. She blushed as her head turned sharply towards a slightly open door coming off from the library. She could have sworn she’d heard a faint chuckle of laughter. Jennifer coughed.
‘Yes,’ she smiled, ‘very good,’ then shuffled some papers in front of her.
Emma’s eyes narrowed. She got the distinct impression that they weren’t alone. Someone was listening in to their interview, she could feel it.
Felix was indeed stood behind the adjourning door, eavesdropping on
every word being spoken. He’d seen Jennifer greet Emma when she arrived,
hidden behind a door off the hall, and had overheard her say she’d
played the piano on the open day, instantly remembering who she was. He
also recalled how she had drawn her audience in when singing
Champagne Problems , including himself . Peeping
discretely through the gap in the door, he found himself attracted to
her again. She had a calm way about her, an effortless quality. He loved
that mass of chestnut curls and found his lips quirking at the silver
ankle boots she wore. A real sense of style. Then he stopped himself.
Did it matter what his housekeeper wore? Of course it didn’t, he told
himself, and concentrated on the job in hand. He had to admit, though,
Jennifer seemed rather taken with her, he could tell. He also knew
Jennifer hadn’t been overly impressed with the previous woman she’d
interviewed. Neither had he, to be honest. They both found her a touch
pompous. Emma was a breath of fresh air in comparison.
As agreed, if he approved of the applicant then he’d let Jennifer know. He rang the phone on the desk in the library. Within seconds Jennifer picked it up.
‘This is the one,’ he said.
‘Yes, of course,’ replied Jennifer in a formal voice. Inside she was pleased of his choice, fully agreeing with him. She put the phone down and turned to face Emma. Now for the clincher. ‘How discreet are you?’ she asked directly. There was a slight pause.
‘Very,’ replied Emma, then deciding she’d had enough of all the secrecy asked, ‘Why?’
‘Because the owner of this house is in the public eye. His privacy is extremely important to him.’
‘I see,’ nodded Emma. Her curiosity was absolutely ablaze.
‘If he were to offer you the job of his housekeeper, then he would expect nothing but loyalty and commitment.’
‘And he’d get it,’ came her instant reply.
The adjourning door opened, and both Emma and Jennifer turned towards it. In stepped a tall, dark, handsome man.
‘Then welcome onboard, Emma,’ said Felix with a broad smile.
Emma sat and stared at him, gobsmacked. She knew that voice now, fully seeing his face. It was Felix Paschal!