Chapter 15
It was Sunday and there was no filming today, which meant Felix could relax in bed and have a much-earned lie-in. Except he was finding it incredibly hard to relax. After contacting the police with an update about the hand-delivered framed photograph, together they had accessed the security camera footage, which had revealed a tall, slim figure in black, wearing a hoodie and a face mask, ringing the doorbell and leaving the parcel.
Felix knew it was Anika. The way she had confidently swaggered off, without a care in the world, told him so. Anyone would have thought she was parading down the catwalk, not trespassing on his property. The brazenness of the woman was absolutely staggering.
‘Are you not able to intervene?’ Felix had asked.
‘So far she hasn’t actually showed any physical signs of hostile behaviour. Yes, she’s left a package, but nothing endangering and that’s not illegal,’ the police had told him.
‘But she’s definitely in the vicinity,’ he replied in despair.
‘Stay extra vigilant,’ warned the police officer.
All this he could well and truly do without, especially as his mother was due to visit very soon. He wanted it to feel special for her arrival, eager to show off his new home, not have to worry about the likes of his mad ex-girlfriend. Although he could well imagine how she’d deal with Anika if they ever came face to face again. He couldn’t help but smirk to himself.
Then, there was Emma to consider. She appeared to be handling this whole stalker fiasco remarkably well, but he knew it must have unnerved her. How could it not? She was already being extra vigilant, checking and double checking all the entrances and windows were locked. Nobody got through the front of the house without her bolting the doors firmly behind them and the back doors were constantly locked.
So, where was Anika? Nearby, that was for sure, or at least had been at some point. Felix had a compulsion to get in his car and drive all over Samphire Bay, scour the place and hunt the stupid woman down.
He hated to admit that Anika had won, in that she’d ruined what should be a special time for him. He’d bought a beautiful Art Deco house, in a stunning location and was fulfilling his ambition of directing. Yet, it had all been overshadowed by her.
His thoughts were interrupted by a gentle knock on his bedroom door.
‘Felix, are you awake?’ Emma called quietly.
‘Yeah, come in.’ He sat up in bed.
Emma poked her head round the door. ‘Sorry to interrupt, but I was wondering if I could maybe practise… for the gig? Err… do you mind if I use the piano?’ All the time she spoke, she was taking in his wide, muscular shoulders and the smattering of dark hair on his naked torso.
‘Not at all! Be my guest,’ he grinned.
‘Great… well, thanks.’ She closed the door. What a sight for sore eyes! she thought, flushing slightly. Hell, he was in good shape.
Still struggling to get the picture of a semi-naked Felix out of her mind, Emma sat down at the piano and steadied herself. Right, down to business… But what a body… Emma! Her inner voice reprimanded. She cast a glance over the sheets of music and the playlist on the music stand.
The band were kicking off with well-known favourites from previous gigs, the first song being Fields of Gold . She sang the opening lines, her voice reverberating round the high marbled walls and ceiling, the acoustics were fabulous.
Felix sighed as he lent back against the pillows and closed his eyes. She had the voice of an angel. He pulled back the sheets and decided to get dressed and join her.
Emma tried to concentrate when she noticed him saunter down the stairs, looking very alluring in faded jeans and an olive-green cable jumper. She faltered slightly when he stood at the side of the piano, just as he had done the very first time they’d met at Bunty’s open house day.
He watched closely, admiring the way her graceful hands danced over the ivory keys. Then his eyes slowly wandered up her toned arms, her rising chest as she sang, then up her slender neck to her very pretty face, finally resting on that wild, chestnut mane that tumbled onto her shoulders. He felt his heart rate kick up, again. This was becoming a habit, he cautioned himself, and a part of him felt uncomfortable. Another part of him, though, the male, red-hot blooded side of him, didn’t. After all, it wasn’t as if he hadn’t clocked her looking at him, like before. Emma was only twenty-five, yet one of the most grounded people he knew. He was ten years older than her. Was that too much?
She finished singing with the closing lines and he clapped.
‘Brilliant.’ Felix smiled, then added, ‘Who chooses the playlist?’
‘We decide between us, it’s pretty much a group decision.’
Felix nodded. ‘What’s your favourite song?’ He was gazing at her, curious to know.
Emma’s face lit up. ‘I love ending on Hey Jude , all the crowd join in with the chorus.’
‘Yeah, I can imagine,’ he grinned. Suddenly the image of the audience singing along with cheer gripped him. He wanted to be included. He wanted to be a part of her world, just like she was experiencing his. He paused before asking. ‘Where did you say the gig was?’
‘Red Rose Brewery,’ Emma replied, eyes narrowing. He wasn’t thinking of coming along was he? Surely not. She continued explaining where it was in Lancaster. All the time Felix was listening with interest.
‘After you’ve finished practising, do you fancy showing me round?’
‘What, Lancaster?’ she asked in surprise.
‘Well, it is my local city now, isn’t it? And who better to show me the sights?’ he grinned with a raised eyebrow. His lips twitched at seeing her reaction, she looked a tad taken aback.
‘Err… yeah, if you want.’
‘Hmm, I do want,’ he replied almost laughing now.
‘Do you want to go now? This can wait.’ Emma started to close the piano lid.
‘No. I tell you what, I’ll make us a bite to eat, while you stay here and carry on. We’ll go after we’ve eaten,’ Felix told her assertively.
Emma blinked. ‘Are you sure?’
Felix laughed. ‘Yes, I am capable, you know.’
‘But that’s my job,’ replied Emma.
‘Well, not today.’ He shook his head. He looked at the playlist. ‘Maybe we could do a duet?’ he teased.
Emma burst into giggles, imagining the very scene. ‘Stick to the day job, Felix,’ she spluttered.
‘Yeah, perhaps.’ He smiled and made his way to the kitchen.
He took a while in preparing them bacon sandwiches, wanting Emma to have enough time to practise. He hummed merrily along to the set she was singing, currently Norah Jones’ What Am I To You? Good question, he thought – and one he was increasingly asking himself. Was he strictly Emma’s employer, or had he become something more? She was certainly becoming more than just his housekeeper to him, that was for sure. It was no good denying it. Felix got so caught up in his thoughts he almost burnt the bacon. Get a grip, man, he thought sternly. Having poured the tea into mugs and put a few biscuits on a plate, he went up with it all on a tray.
Emma was just finishing when Felix placed the tray down on the console table in the hall and applauded.
‘Bravo!’ he called.
‘Why, thank you.’ She got up to curtsy, then joined him.
‘Come on, let’s eat this in the drawing room,’ said Felix, taking the tray.
After finishing their tea and sandwiches, they wrapped up to face the cold air outside. Felix wore a beanie hat and thick scarf, covering most of his face. Emma wondered if it was because of the cold, or as disguise. He drove them into Lancaster under Emma’s direction, chatting all the way as she guided him into the nearest car park.
‘Are you worried someone might recognise you?’ she asked, tipping her head towards his scarf.
‘It’s more habit than anything.’ He shrugged. ‘In London it happened a lot, but perhaps here not so.’
‘Yeah,’ agreed Emma, ‘I mean, who would expect the likes of me to be out and about with a famous actor?’
He turned to face her, pausing before answering.
‘Why not?’ He frowned.
Emma stalled. ‘Well… you know…’
‘No, I don’t.’
‘Right, forget it. Come on, let’s go.’ She made to unfasten her seatbelt, but he stopped her, his expression staid.
‘Emma, please don’t think that way. You’re a beautiful, talented lady and great company. Why on earth shouldn’t we be out and about together?’ He cocked his head on one side.
Emma blinked, taken aback by his declaration. She was speechless.
‘Right, where to first?’ he asked, rubbing his hands together.
‘Well, I could really do with a new outfit for the gig,’ said Emma, not really sure Felix would enjoy being traipsed around the shops.
‘OK.’ He nodded. ‘Then what?’
‘I could show you the castle? Or, what about the theatre?’ She suddenly realised he could be interested in that.
‘Sounds great,’ he smiled in reply.
It was surreal showing Felix round the vintage and second-hand shops she normally went to. They did get one or two looks, but nobody actually stopped them. He seemed to be enjoying himself, helping her pick clothes and giving his honest opinion until, finally, Emma settled on a tie-dyed dress in golds, oranges and browns, really matching her colouring.
‘It looks amazing,’ stated Felix when she came out of the dressing room.
‘Sure?’ Emma chewed her lip with uncertainty. For a second, she was reminded of when she dressed for the interview with his PA and almost giggled to herself. Who would have thought she’d be here now, with Felix, shopping in a charity shop?
‘Yes, definitely, it suits you,’ he replied assertively.
‘Good, that’s sorted, now I’ll show you the sights.’
After enjoying a tour round the castle and calling at the theatre, they were in need of a well-earned sit down. Felix had loved looking round Lancaster’s small theatre. Although a rather modest building from outside, inside was surprisingly much grander and seeing the up and coming advertised performances reminded him of his early acting days. He had always looked back on his time in the theatre fondly.
‘Come on, lunch is on me,’ said Felix.
They snuck into the nearest pub, trundling to a cosy nook at the back.
‘I’ll go to the bar,’ said Emma, thinking he’d be wary about getting served.
‘No, I’ll go,’ Felix told her firmly. ‘What are you drinking?’
‘Oh, a white wine would be lovely, thanks,’ she replied. She watched him go, observing the reaction of the barman, whose face did seem to flicker with recognition, but didn’t act upon it. He probably thinks he’s his body double, thought Emma, grinning to herself.
Felix returned with her glass of wine and an orange juice, along with the menu.
‘Right, what to eat,’ he said, eyes scanning the list. Emma already knew what she wanted. She’d gigged a few times here with the band and was familiar with the menu.
‘I’ll have the steak and ale pie, please.’
‘Hmm, I think I’ll join you,’ replied Felix, after a few moments. He got up to order the food. This time when Felix was at the bar, the young lad serving spoke to him.
‘Has anyone ever told you, you’re a dead ringer for Felix Paschal?’ he questioned politely.
Felix just smiled. ‘Yeah, I get that a lot,’ then ordered their food.
Emma giggled to herself, amused by the way he’d handled the interaction.
After lunch they slowly made their way back to the carpark. On doing so they passed an antique shop window, a stunning Art Deco Tiffany lamp was on display, which caught Emma’s eye.
‘Oh, look!’ she gasped, pointing to it.
Felix stopped to see and knew immediately what she was thinking. ‘Should I buy it?’
‘It would definitely look the part. It’s what our house deserves. I mean, your house,’ she quickly corrected.
Felix looked into those spellbinding amber eyes twinkling with joy and his heart skipped a beat. He liked the reference of ‘our’ house, it made him feel… connected to her. And at that point he knew. He knew Emma was the one.
‘Come on then, let’s bring it home,’ he replied, never feeling so happy.
The next morning Felix woke up in great spirits. Spending time yesterday with Emma had done him the world of good. Also, having a less busy working schedule helped. There were just two days left, time-tabled for the end of the week, which meant he had another free day. He got up early, showered, dressed and made his way into the kitchen, expecting to join Emma.
On entering though, the kitchen was empty. Feeling a touch surprised (and disappointed) he frowned, wondering where she was. He noticed the cellar door was ajar and went down the stone steps into the darkness. He called out her name, but there was no reply, so he decided to see if she was upstairs in the drawing room or library. But she was nowhere to be found. Perhaps she was in her bedroom? Beginning to feel anxious now, he tapped on her door. When there was no answer, he opened it and poked his head round. No, she wasn’t there either. His stomach contracted in fear. Where was Emma? His chest started to pound, hammering against his rib cage. All sorts of hideous scenarios flashed through his mind. He raced back down the stairs, shouting her name. Then, looking out of the hall side window, he saw her in the garden. She was stood by the flower beds, cutting roses, and his eyes closed in relief. Thank God for that.
Felix tapped on the glass to gain her attention. She turned round and waved at him. Just seeing her smiling face instantly calmed him. He waved back, then quickly hauled his jacket on and went outside to join her.
‘I saw these and thought they’d look lovely inside. May as well enjoy the last of them,’ Emma told him as he approached her.
‘So I see,’ he replied, ‘here, let me.’ He gathered all the prickly branches together, after putting his gloves on inside his jacket pocket.
‘I wondered where you were,’ Felix said as they entered the hall. He couldn’t help but sound a touch accusing.
Emma lifted her head up in surprise. ‘I was only outside,’ she replied, a tad confused at the tone of his voice.
Felix gave a sigh as he placed the rose branches down on the floor.
‘Please don’t do that again.’ He looked straight at her with a serious expression.
‘What?’ Emma laughed, genuinely puzzled by his behaviour.
Felix paused, not wanting to frighten her, but still keen to get his point across. Then the penny dropped and Emma’s eyes widened.
‘Oh my God, you thought Anika had done something to me, didn’t you?’ she gasped, covering her mouth in shock.
Felix reached out and pulled Emma to him. Wrapping his arms protectively round her, he breathed her in.
‘I just… panicked, that’s all,’ he tried to soothe, still holding her tightly.
Emma felt warm and tingly inside, loving the warmth and security of Felix’s body. Maybe he had overreacted a little, but she was touched by his concern and also quite flattered by it.
‘Hey, Felix.’ She pulled back and stared into his troubled eyes.
He shook his head. ‘Sorry, I feel so… responsible I guess.’ He gave a weak smile and swallowed.
‘Listen, you mustn’t let her get to you,’ Emma appeased.
Felix was once again struck by her mature, sensible attitude, despite the ten-year age gap between them. Feeling a little foolish now, he smiled back at her.
‘You’re right, sorry.’ He looked down at the pile of roses. ‘I’ll put these in the kitchen.’
Then, they both jumped at hearing the doorbell.
‘Are you expecting anyone?’ asked Emma quietly.
‘No. I’ll get it,’ replied Felix, then turned, ‘you stay here, Emma,’ he ordered. His chest was pounding again, as he opened the front doors, preparing himself for the worst, an irate Anika. His eyes widened at the sight before him. ‘Mum?’
‘A little earlier than planned, I know, but thought I would surprise you, mon chéri !’
That evening, after supper with Felix and his mother, Emma went to
bed in a contented but exhausted state. Despite sinking into a warm
bubble bath and restfully taking stock, her mind was in overdrive. It
had been such an eventful day with so much to consider. Mainly, the way
Felix had behaved when he couldn’t find her that morning.
He had looked genuinely distraught and the way he’d grabbed her to him in a tight hug… She’d been taken aback. A tiny part of her questioned if that was the normal actions of an employer. Emma giggled at the thought of her old bank manager, Mr Butterworth, reacting in such a way!
Then, there was how he had spoken in the car, after she’d joked about him being seen with her shopping in Lancaster. Felix had looked so sincere when gently reprimanding her, and she blushed at the memory of him calling her beautiful and talented. Again, was this to be expected of her boss?
It all left Emma a tad confused, but happy nonetheless. Truth be told, she liked it. The more time she spent with Felix, the more attracted to him she was becoming. Her thoughts flashed back to how he’d dealt with the barman in Lancaster, easily brushing away any attention he’d received. Some would have gloated in it, but not Felix.
Supper had been a very pleasant affair and she had thoroughly enjoyed Felix and his mother’s company. They were humorous together, banter bouncing back and forth, making Emma squeal with laughter. She had expected to feel intimidated by his mother – between her sophisticated French accent, dry sense of humour and chic outfit, Emma felt positively dowdy next to the woman. But she’d been surprised by the warmth and geniality that Madeleine – as she was instructed to call her – had offered instead, inviting Emma to join in her teasing of her son with a wink.
Once or twice she’d caught his mother’s watchful eyes rest upon her in an almost questioning way. She did know why she was here, didn’t she? It crossed Emma’s mind that perhaps Madeleine may think her a friend of Felix’s, such was the manner in which he treated her; topping up her glass with more wine and actually assisting with cooking the meal. Emma had rustled up a spaghetti carbonara with garlic bread and Felix had been on hand to help, setting the table and serving it up. It touched Emma that he had done so, as opposed to having her run to his beck and call. Yet, she conceded, wasn’t that what he paid his housekeeper to do?
Her mind then rewound to him buying her lunch, letting her choose the Tiffiny lamp… was this the done thing between an employer and employee? She pictured them again, in the dimly lit, cosy kitchen, hunkered down beside the wood burner. All three of them sat together, chatting easily as they ate. Madeleine had complimented her cooking, as had Felix. In no way was Emma made to feel inferior, or even as staff, for that matter. Hence, the quizzical looks from his mother.
They’d shared stories from Felix’s childhood, like the way he had always been a performer, staging plays he’d made up from the age of seven, which Emma had found endearing. Only when Felix went down into the cellar to get another bottle of wine did Madeleine make a slight enquiry.
‘Are you from Samphire Bay, Emma?’
‘Nearby, in Lancaster,’ she answered, expecting more questions to follow. They didn’t. Madeleine seemed content with the limited knowledge she had. Or perhaps Felix had informed his mother all about her?
Emma just wasn’t sure. In fact, there was quite a lot she was beginning to feel uneasy about, like the state of her ever-increasing attraction towards her boss for one. The line between a professional and personal relationship was gradually blurring. Emma felt drawn further and further into a situation out of her control; but as the same time didn’t want it to stop.
Meanwhile, Felix was having a nightcap with his mother in the drawing room.
‘So, what do you think of the house?’ he grinned, sitting opposite her.
‘ Magnifique ,’ she smiled, nodding her coiffured brunette head, she held her glass up, ‘ Santé !’ she cheered him. Then, settling back comfortably on the sofa she assessed her son broodingly.
‘What?’ he half-laughed, knowing something was brewing.
‘Emma?’ she simply said.
‘…Is my housekeeper,’ he replied in an innocent tone.
‘I see.’ She smirked openly at him.
‘She is, ’ he protested a touch defensively.
‘Maybe for now, mon chéri ,’ she gently teased.
Felix knew better than to deny it. It appeared his mother’s intuition wasn’t far off the mark.