Chapter Four
~~MARK~~
Early on the morning of my birthday, I woke to the phone ringing next to my bed. I groped for the receiver and grunted into it.
Saffron’s voice almost burst my eardrums. ‘Happy birthday, darling!’
Before I had time to bellow something back at her, Father came on the line. ‘Many happy returns, Mark, did you get our card and cheque?’
‘Yes thanks, they arrived yesterday I think. What time is it where you are?’
‘God knows. Some time in the afternoon, we’re in Singapore, remember? Just come back from Haw Par Villa, a sort of theme park. Didn’t think I’d enjoy it, but it was fascinating. We’re off out again in a few minutes. Is Tamara there?’
I rolled onto my back and grinned. ‘No, she’s coming later today.’
‘So you’re all alone.’
‘Apart from a couple of hookers I picked up last night.’
‘I know you’re joking.’ He paused. ‘You are, aren’t you?’
‘What do you think?’
He said gently, ‘I think the sooner Tamara’s with you, the better. It’s not natural for a man to be on his own.’
‘I’m going into the office, I’ll hardly be on my own there.’
‘You know what I mean. By the way, have we got the new Parkinson contract agreed yet?’
This led to a brief discussion about the need to keep particularly close to our biggest customer, who was being courted even more than usual by our competitors; then he was off on his next outing, Saffron nagging in the background.
It made running Donwell Organics seem like a picnic.
I lay in bed a little longer, thinking. Not about the Parkinson contract, I’m ashamed to say, but about the list of instructions I needed to give Mrs Burn in preparation for Tamara’s arrival; such as ‘Lay fire in drawing room’ and ‘Put bottle of Krug on ice’.
At least the phone call meant I got to the office earlier than usual. Since I was leaving shortly after lunch to pick up Tamara from the airport, then taking the rest of the day off, I needed to get a head start.
It felt like I’d only just got going when Cherry, my PA, rang through.
‘Ready for coffee?’ she asked.
‘Not yet, it’s only—’ I glanced incredulously at my watch.
‘Five past eleven? Yes, coffee please, then can you get hold of Mitch and ask him to come up here before one o’clock.
’ David Mitchell was our Sales Director and in charge of the Parkinson account.
‘Oh, and could you check that Tamara’s plane’s on time? The details are in my diary.’
‘Fine. And you’ve got a visitor.’
‘There’s no one scheduled—’
‘It’s Emma Woodhouse, she says it’ll only take a few minutes.’
‘Oh. All right, but . . .’ The words died in my throat.
‘I’ll bring coffee for two, then, shall I?’
‘OK’.
I’d hardly put down the phone when the door opened and there stood Emma in a too-short skirt, holding a large round tin emblazoned with ‘Fortnum but whether in pain or pleasure, I had no idea.
After a while, I became aware that she was crying — or rather trying not to.
I opened my eyes, held her slightly away from me and raised one hand to cup her chin and tilt her face towards mine.
Slowly, reluctantly, she obeyed and I watched, fascinated, as a teardrop quivered on her lower lid — and fell.
Without thinking, I pressed my lips against her cheek to catch it and tasted a fleeting moment of intimacy.
Not physical intimacy. That was all too familiar, although not with her.
Something else. A closeness forged by shared memories, tempered by deep — affection.
My hand dropped back to her hip and I let out a long breath. ‘Just making the hurt better, same as when you were little,’ I said in a hearty voice. Too hearty, perhaps.
She stifled a sob, then frowned. ‘I don’t remember it ever being like that.’
‘Really? It should be me who doesn’t remember things. Thirty-five today, can’t you see all the grey hairs that have appeared overnight?’ To my relief, her frown became a smile. ‘Look,’ I went on, ‘the Rob and Harriet incident’s over. Let’s forget about it. Especially now you’ve come to apologise.’
I felt her stiffen in my arms, saw her eyes flash. ‘I haven’t — I’ve come to let you apologise to me!’
‘What on earth have I — ?’ I stopped and let out another steadying breath. ‘As you said at the time, we’ll just have to agree to differ.’
‘I still don’t think there was any harm done, not on Harriet’s side anyway.’ She gave a dismissive shrug. ‘I don’t know about him , of course, but I can’t imagine he’s too upset.’
After spending several evenings with Rob Martin in The Hare and Hounds, I knew exactly how upset he was; but I was also determined to avoid any more arguments with Emma. So I pulled a clean handkerchief from my pocket and handed it to her.
‘Here, dry your eyes.’ I walked over to the desk. ‘Now, what’s in this tin you’ve brought? Don’t tell me — Henry’s sent me a supply of garlic cloves to see me through the winter.’
‘Oh, Mark.’ She made a funny sound, a cross between a laugh and a hiccup, then dabbed distractedly at her cheek with the handkerchief.
‘Sorry to disappoint you, Dad’s present is in the blue envelope there.
He’s so worried about the effect India must have had on your, er, system that he was going to get you a voucher for colonic irrigation.
But I persuaded him to go for Gentlemen’s Tonic instead, much more relaxing. ’
‘Gentlemen’s Tonic?’ I said, doubtfully. It reminded me of Gentleman’s Relish and that photo . . .
‘It’s a posh male grooming place in Mayfair, you’ll love it. I’ve got you one of their vouchers as well.’
There were two envelopes taped to the tin. I opened the blue one first and found a card and voucher from Henry. Then I opened the silver one; same voucher and a card with a corny joke about getting old. It was signed ‘Love, Mouse’, followed by three kisses.
I immediately thought, ‘One down, two to go.’ Then, ‘But that first kiss hardly counts, it was more like first aid.’
I cleared my throat. ‘You told me Mouse was gone for ever.’
She blushed and looked down at the floor. ‘She popped back, just for your birthday.’
The door opened and Cherry appeared with the coffee tray, which she placed on the little table at the other end of the room. When she’d gone, I prised the lid carefully off the tin.
Emma watched me nervously. ‘I made you a coffee and walnut cake, your favourite. At least, it used to be your favourite.’
‘It still is. Thank you, let’s have some now.’
We sat in the armchairs either side of the table. She poured the coffee while I cut two generous slices of cake with a plastic ruler, the most suitable implement I could lay my hands on, and used sheets of printer paper as plates.
She giggled. ‘Not quite in keeping with the image of a high-powered business executive, is it?’
‘Your image or mine?’
‘Both. D’you know, as there’s no one watching, I might even lick my fingers.’
I was watching, but obviously I was just part of the furniture. And I didn’t watch her for long. There was only so much a sex-starved man could stand.
‘That was delicious,’ I said, when we’d finished eating. ‘Another slice?’
‘No thanks, this skirt is tight enough as it is.’ She patted her stomach, the merest hint of a curve beneath smooth silver- grey suede.
‘Oh, I nearly forgot, Kate’s having people round for dinner this Saturday and she’d like you and Tamara to come.
Seven for seven thirty. She’s asked her usual crowd — Izzy, John, Dad, me, Batty and her mother.
And she’s also invited Harriet and, er, Philip.
’ A pause, then a well-judged change of subject. ‘Is Tamara here yet?’
‘No, I’m going to pick her up from Gatwick this afternoon.’
‘I’ve never met her.’
‘I know.’
She scooped up a few crumbs from her lap and dropped them into a nearby waste paper bin. ‘Izzy says she’s not interested in anyone but herself. And presumably you.’
I frowned. ‘Izzy thinks that anyone who doesn’t instantly adore her kids is bizarre. Tamara did not appreciate having chocolate smeared in her hair by Bella last time she was over, she’d just spent a small fortune at the hairdresser’s.’
‘I can understand that, I suppose. Anyway, I’m dying to see her.’
‘So am I. And I’ve only got another four hours to wait, thank God, it’s been six weeks since—’ I broke off. I’d never discussed my sex life with anyone and I certainly wasn’t about to start now. Maybe Father was right after all; it wasn’t natural for a man to be on his own.
I got to my feet, crossed the room and busied myself with the in-tray on my desk. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Emma walking over to me.
Her voice was cool. ‘I’m sure you’ve got lots to do, so I’ll be off now. Hope your birthday celebrations with Tamara don’t wear you out.’