Chapter Twenty-Six
Two weeks later Emerald walked into the office, yawning and twisting her head to get rid of the crick she’d developed through sleeping badly again, as lustful dreams took her to forbidden heights, with Marco always in the lead role.
She had barely seen Marco since their trip to the Scillies, just about managed dinner twice and gulped a few hurried coffees before he flew out to Italy again. It was bizarre as he had hung around Hot Air like a damp mist for the last few months and now was nowhere to be seen most of the time. The trip to the Scillies was beginning to feel like a surreal dream she had wanted to happen but had sadly imagined.
She was hoping he would be at work as she pulled up outside the offices and felt decidedly nervous about seeing him, having no idea how their relationship was playing out — or even if they had a relationship anymore. He hadn’t tried to tempt her into bed when they met for dinner no matter all they had shared when away. Now, he constantly looking at his watch before draining his coffee mug, snatching up his jacket and disappearing through the nearest door.
She’d had no chance to talk to him as he’d busied himself with his laptop on the flight home from the Scillies and had kissed her perfunctorily as he put her in a cab and took a different one straight into the centre of London. She now wondered if he was staying busy on purpose. In her heart, she couldn’t believe that he would have stopped wanting her so quickly — they were perfect together. But a niggling voice kept on repeating Finbar’s warning. She should have listened to his words of advice.
But there was nothing she could do about it now. Her fragmented heart could break when she was at home but it would be made of steel while she was at work. She pasted on a smile.
‘Morning, Charlotte, morning, bump, hope you both feel better than I do.’ She stifled another yawn and glanced around the office as Charlotte, Marco’s personal secretary, tapped away at the computer.
‘Morning, Emms. I’m fine apart from a million aches and twinges that I can’t identify,’ Charlotte said. ‘Oh, it might be something to do with this,’ she said, throwing a surprised look at her huge pregnant belly and giving it a rub.
Emerald threw her a commiserating glance. ‘Not long now, eh?’
‘I guess, but it’s lasting longer than an English winter for me. Never. Bloody. Ending.’ Charlotte laughed, but she looked pale and washed out.
‘I can imagine,’ was all Emerald could say to sympathise.
Roz, the receptionist who dealt with the day to day admin and most jobs filed under any other business glanced up. ‘Morning, Emerald. Marco left some post on your desk to deliver to the right people when you see them.’
‘Okay, I’ll check the roster and see who’s flying today.’ She turned to put the kettle on. ‘Anything from crewing? Any delays, weather problems or sickness?’
‘Apart from Charlotte’s chronic indigestion, no.’
Emerald pulled a sympathetic face. She couldn’t imagine what it felt like to have a football-sized baby take over her body. A labour of love, she imagined, thinking fleetingly once again of what her and Marco’s babies might look like.
‘Yeah. Constant niggling pain in my groin and the little blighter is kicking me like it thinks I’m a tin can.’ She paused for a moment to resume typing before looking up. ‘Mr Cavarelli has finally made it common knowledge that he’s streamlining the base. He wants me to come back after the baby and has offered me a generous maternity package, so I’m pleased to know I’m not being “streamlined”.’ She put a hand to her belly, a frown crossing her face and what looked like a wince of pain.
‘He’s streamlining the base? Finally?’ Emerald faced Charlotte, trying to keep the shock from her voice. This was the first she’d heard of it, but Charlotte knew of his plans. Marco kept things to himself, but surely he would have mentioned such a huge change? Emerald stared at Charlotte, unable to take this news in. Marco had told Charlotte, his personal secretary and yet he hadn’t trusted her with this bombshell, when she was supposed to be . . . what was she supposed to be? His lover, his confidante, his employee?
She opened her mouth to speak but closed it again, needing time to absorb the shock of it. Alarm bells rang, faint but insistent as she wandered over to her desk to check the letters he’d left her to distribute. She picked them up and shuffled through them, not finding any common denominator in the names printed on them.
‘Where is Marco, by the way? I’m guessing you know? He keeps us in the dark most of the time.’
‘Oh, he’s his own man all right. I don’t know where he is half the time, but I do know he’s gone away again. I booked him a flight to Florence, first thing.’
Emerald balked. This was getting worse. ‘Really? He didn’t say anything to me.’
‘Why would he, you weren’t here?’ Charlotte asked, not unkindly.
Emerald pulled herself up short, remembering that no one knew about her and Marco so there would be no reason for her to know his movements.
Charlotte, however, didn’t appear to notice and went on talking. ‘It was genuinely weird. The magazines for the aircraft were delivered and Marco signed for them to save me heaving my huge barge arse out of my chair. Then he went all quiet, put his jacket back on and said he was going away. He’d only taken his jacket off minutes before.’
Emerald went cold at Charlotte’s words — there was definitely something going on, then.
‘He keeps sending me emails asking me to do things, so he clearly still has a lot to do around here.’ Charlotte continued peering at her computer screen.
Emerald edged casually across to the magazines dumped on the floor, still sealed in polybags. The top one was a glossy gossip magazine and she opened it idly, not for one moment imagining that the answer to Marco’s erratic behaviour would be found within its pages. immediately a picture of herself and Marco looking very cosy together in the hotel at St Martin’s jumped out at her. Shock rendered her speechless as she took in the headline. MYSTERY WOMAN IN HIDEAWAY HOTEL WITH MAGNATE MARCO CAVARELLI . Emerald winced at the implication that they were being devious, knowing how much Marco would hate it. She didn’t much like it herself — but there was no one in her life who cared very much what she did. Luckily, the female image in the photograph looked nothing like her. She was mostly in shadow and her giveaway hair was tied in a casual ponytail. That was one good thing , she thought, throwing a look at Charlotte who didn’t look the slightest bit interested in her or the magazines.
Flipping the magazines closed to hide the image, she remembered how cross Marco had been about the intruding photographer. She rubbed at her arms, the earlier niggle about the direction of their relationship now cementing into a concrete fear that the picture was the reason for his hasty departure. Could it be that he was embarrassed to be seen with her, a woman of such lowly status?
Finbar sauntered in at that moment. ‘Have you seen this?’ He asked as he shoved his phone in front of her face. ‘What’s up?’ He must have caught the stricken look on Emerald’s face, even though she was trying to compose her features the best she could.
‘Nothing, I hope.’ Her fingers trembled as she threw the letters into her in-tray. ‘What were you showing me?’
‘Oh.’ He lifted his phone again and showed her the screen. ‘Our boss in a hotel with a woman — who looks strikingly similar to you. But it couldn’t be you, could it?’ Finbar smiled innocently. ‘I’ve Googled it and it’s on a ton of the celebrity gossip sites.’
She sighed. ‘I’ve just seen it in the magazine part of the newspaper. It’s just titillation.’
Finbar sighed. ‘Come on, the game’s up, you can’t fool me.’ He folded his arms and leaned on the desk. ‘Tell me all.’ But when she didn’t speak he narrowed his eyes, noticing her distraction.
‘What’ve you got there?’ He nodded towards the in-tray with the letters sitting in it.
She dragged her mind back to the immediate problem. ‘Oh, just letters. Fin. Have you heard rumours that Marco is streamlining the airline?’
‘No, but it wouldn’t surprise me; the man is ruthless.’
Betty, who was polishing the windows, stepped down from her stool and faced them, hands on hips. ‘This is the first I’ve heard of it and I know everything .’
‘We know you do, Betty, love, which just shows how cunning the man can be,’ Finbar said, putting his phone away, his gaze now fixed on the letters.
Emerald thought cunning was a bit harsh — he was just a shrewd businessman — but nevertheless a sliver of unease crawled down her spine. Marco was preoccupied and distant and she was left flailing in a sea of doubt and insecurity.
‘I know he was talking about merging with a smaller airline in Scotland or buying them — and updating our aircraft so we could start some kind of upmarket spa place. To watch the stars, in silence and — I dunno, a place for burned-out people to recharge their batteries, maybe? But he didn’t say anything about redundancies,’ she said, finally.
‘Surely what he has in mind would mean expansion, not reduction?’
Emerald picked the letters out of her in-tray and tapped them against her thigh thoughtfully. ‘I don’t know, I’m afraid. I’m not privy to his plans.’ She hoped she didn’t sound bitter, but she was beginning to wonder, given his recent behaviour, if she had, after all, been a blabbing fool. The sort of fool Finbar had explicitly warned her against. She scanned the names on the letters once more.
‘What are those letters?’ Finbar asked squinting to read the names on the envelopes.
‘They’re from Marco.’
Finbar narrowed his eyes.
‘It’s nothing, I don’t suppose,’ she continued breezily.
‘Then we have nothing to worry about, do we? Apart from the look on your face that says we might have something to worry about.’ He flipped the letters out of Emerald’s fingers and flicked through them, reading out the names on the front. ‘Hannah, Mason, Connor, Taylor, Maisie, Jack. Hmm.’ He looked up from the stack, a quizzical look on his face. ‘You didn’t? Please, tell me you didn’t tell him.’
Emerald rubbed her nose and sucked in a shuddering breath. ‘They were throwaway comments really, nothing tangible.’
He lowered his voice so that Charlotte wouldn’t hear what he was saying. ‘You mean throwaway comments like, “We caught Maisie pilfering cigarettes from the duty-free bar, and Connor was off sick but someone saw him in the departure lounge heading for Ibiza” — those sorts of throwaway comments?’
‘It was just chatter, nothing specific.’ Emerald put her fingers up to her lips as they started quivering. ‘He wouldn’t do that — he’s not who you think, Fin.’ But her stomach contracted with anxiety. ‘I need to see the contents of those letters.’ She glanced over at Charlotte, wondering how unethical it would be to read one and seal it up again.
She inclined her head over to the adjacent room. ‘Let’s go into my office,’ she mouthed and walked the few short steps into the office she now shared with Marco.
Quick as a flash, Finbar slit the top of one of the envelopes and scanned the page, his mouth compressing into a hard line. He passed the letter to Emerald wordlessly, before printing out a new name label and sticking it onto a fresh envelope. Then he snatched the letter back from a pale-faced Emerald and slipped it in the envelope, shaking his head with disbelief.
‘God, what have I done?’ Emerald sat down with a thump as the awful truth sank in: that she was the direct cause of her colleagues losing their jobs. Colleagues who should have known better, but still had bills to pay and were on the whole, decent people and good workers.
‘What a bastard. Sacking — couched in grander terms, but basically firing them.’
‘At least he’s paying them off.’ Emerald could barely take it in. It couldn’t be a coincidence. Careless talk costs lives — isn’t that what they said, back in the wartime days? Finbar had told her to be careful but she hadn’t listened, being too busy losing her virginity and falling in love.
Finbar turned his attention from the letters to gaze out of the window towards the car park. ‘Where is the delectable Mr Cavarelli, anyway?’
Betty appeared from the tiny kitchenette area, yellow rubber gloves adorning her hands. ‘Florence. Went this morning, in a hurry.’
Finbar jumped backwards and fanned his face. ‘Christ almighty, Betty, don’t do that. How do you move from one room to another without us seeing you? You’re like a bloody Ninja.’
Emerald laughed. ‘Betty’s had years of practice, that’s how she knows everything.’
‘I’m the cleaner, no one notices me,’ Betty said, pulling off the gloves with a snap. ‘Florence,’ she repeated.
The single word sounded like a death knell to Emerald.
Betty went on. ‘Might be as long as a week. I heard him on the phone making arrangements.’ Polishing her glasses with the same cloth she’d just used to wipe the windows she leaned against the desk. ‘I put his tea down on his desk and he almost jumped out of his skin. He was being very shifty indeed.’ Her eyes narrowed briefly but then her face turned wistful. ‘He is so good-looking though — and he ate all the coffee cake I gave him.’
Finbar’s lips pursed waspishly. ‘Oh, well, if he ate all of your cake then everything must be hunky-dory.’
‘No one is black or white, Finbar — you have to give the man a chance. But a week?’ Emerald said, bringing the conversation back to what mattered. He hadn’t even mentioned that he was going away.
Charlotte’s head popped around the door. ‘I’m so sorry to bother you both, but my twinges have turned into rather strong pains. I’ve phoned my husband and he’s picking me up. Might as well visit the hospital just to make sure.’
At this news, all work worries were forgotten. Finbar immediately took Charlotte’s arm and half-carried her to the door.
‘It’s probably a false alarm. I can walk.’ She laughed as she disentangled herself from Finbar.
‘I’m just trying to get you out of here, quick sharp, before your waters break all over our carpet,’ Finbar said tutting. ‘Betty, get a bucket, just in case,’ he shouted, hamming it up.
Everyone laughed and Charlotte looked pained as she laughed and bent over, clutching her bump.
‘Oh Charlotte, I hope you’re okay. It’s not too soon is it?’ Emerald asked.
‘No, not at all. I’m not worried.’
‘How exciting,’ Finbar said helping her down the steps and peering around, looking for her husband’s car.
‘Isn’t it? Looks like I might be starting my maternity leave sooner rather than later.’ Charlotte laughed.
‘Don’t you worry about anything. We’ll tell Marco you are indisposed, so don’t even think about it.’
Charlotte’s husband screeched to a halt in his car and he was out of the door in a flash. ‘Darling, let me help you.’ He guided his wife into the car solicitously, and everyone breathed a sigh of relief as he thanked them over and over.
‘Newspaper on the seat might be helpful,’ Finbar shouted and Emerald elbowed him.
‘Not appropriate,’ she said but she was laughing as they waved off Charlotte with kisses and good luck wishes.
Betty had tears in her eyes. ‘It reminds me of when my eldest had her daughter. Did I ever show you the photos?’ She dug in her apron pocket and Finbar quickly steered Emerald back inside the building.
‘Right, let’s get back to the disaster in hand, shall we? Betty are you putting that kettle on? Bit of cake, maybe?’ He winked at Emerald.
Betty went off to make the tea and Emerald flung herself in her office chair. ‘So, where were we?’
‘You were about to tell me all the salacious details about you and Mr Cav, whether you wanted to or not.’ Finbar was about to sit down opposite Emerald when he suddenly stilled. ‘Emms, I hate to say this, but look.’
Emerald followed Finbar’s line of sight to his finger, which wobbled as he pointed. Propped up against Emerald’s computer screen sat an envelope, personally addressed to Emerald in Marco’s unmistakable flowing handwriting. Emerald’s mind couldn’t compute what Finbar meant but, as realisation dawned, she picked it up with trembling hands.
Finbar grasped her shoulder. ‘Sweetie, it won’t be what you think. He wouldn’t do that to you.’
But Emerald could hear the uncertainty in his tone and a terrible voice in the back of her head was screaming, he would, he would, he needs to get rid of me — in case I talk.
‘Love, you’ve turned quite pale.’ Betty walked in carrying a laden tray, her eyes now fixed on the unopened letter and then on Emerald’s fearful eyes. ‘If he goes around upsetting people, he’ll have me to answer to,’ she said, gauging that it was Marco causing the upset. She puffed out her chest, determination written all over her face. She took off her already spotless glasses and polished them again, manically, as she eyed up the envelope and Emerald’s reaction to it. ‘Let’s have a look then.’ She obviously believed she was as much a party to office politics as anyone.
‘I’ve got this one, Betty.’ Finbar put his arm around Emerald’s shoulders and steered her toward the door. ‘Let’s get out of here. Don’t open it now,’ he hissed to Emerald as he grabbed her arm. He winked at Betty. ‘We won’t be long and I promise I’ll let you know the goss as soon as I get back.’
Betty looked for a moment as if she would follow them out of the building, but good manners prevailed and she settled for huffing on her glasses once more and polishing them vigorously.
Finbar marched Emerald out of the office, not stopping until they came to the same café in which, ironically, Emerald had sat with Marco when he’d threatened her with the sack just after he’d arrived. How far they’d come since that day, and yet it seemed possible that the end result would be the same.
Emerald had begun to believe that Marco might yet be in love with her, but she’d clearly been living in a fantasy world. He thought as much of her as any of his other staff — which, by the looks of it, wasn’t very much. Though surely he wouldn’t dismiss her? Even Finbar said as much and he didn’t trust Marco an inch. But perhaps he now saw her as an inconvenience and wanted her gone. With shaking fingers she held the envelope at arm’s length, her eyes fixed on it, as if she could see the contents by sheer willpower.
Finbar placed a cup of tea in front of her and stirred his own coffee, waiting.
‘And before you say anything, I don’t want to hear one I told you so . Not one, okay?’ Emerald said weakly as she placed the letter squarely in between them both.
‘I wouldn’t dream of it, sweetie, but—’ he held up his hand ‘—I did warn you.’
Emerald eyed him as she slid her finger under the envelope. ‘Oh, it’s not even sealed.’ She looked inside it, tipped it up and turned it inside out, shaking it. ‘It’s empty. There’s nothing in there. Oh, hang on.’ She waggled her finger inside the envelope and a Hot Air Aviation compliment slip slithered onto the table. She stared at it for a second, before sweeping it up with the envelope.
‘Phew. That’s bloody weird though.’ Finbar sat back in his chair. ‘Have you checked your phone, by the way?’
‘No, I haven’t heard it ring or anything. Hang on.’ She fished out her mobile and scanned it. ‘Oh, there’s a message from him.’ Something seemed more than off today and getting a text from Marco, who was making himself scarce, made her jittery. She bit her lip as she glanced at Finbar before returning her gaze to her phone. She opened the message,
‘What’s it say?’ Finbar’s eyes were bulging.
Reading slowly from the screen, she said, ‘Well, Mr Cavarelli says hello.’ She looked up and nodded, smiling. ‘Good start.’ She looked down again. ‘He suggests that it would be for the best if—’ She squinted as she read the message. ‘“If I clear my desk and wind down my flights for the foreseeable future.”’ Her voice, rose, faltered and stuttered as she took in his words. ‘He will ensure that I am not financially indisposed.’ She looked up. ‘He will be in touch soon.’ She peered closer. ‘There’s a kiss on the end.’
She looked up at Finbar, stricken. The gaped back at her phone, blew out a breath and slumped into her chair, leaning her head in her hands. She brushed her hair out of the way as it flopped over her face, and stared blankly at Finbar. ‘I don’t understand. What is he saying?’
‘Wait . . . No!’ Finbar’s eyes were huge and disbelieving, his mouth wide open. ‘The bastard,’ he said, letting out a loud breath.
‘Is he dismissing me, too?’ She was momentarily too puzzled to be upset, too confused to be worried about her job. No, No , her mind screamed. Nothing had prepared her for this. She dropped her phone into her lap. ‘Why would he do this?’ She bit her lip, looked up at Finbar for an explanation, her eyes glistening with unshed tears and panic. ‘What am I going to do?’
‘What happened between you two?’
Emerald just shook her head and looked down at her lap, cradling her phone.
‘You slept with him, didn’t you?’
She nodded as she bit her lip to hold back the tears. There was no point in denying it.
‘What did I tell you? Don’t think he’s on your side, don’t sleep with him and don’t tell him anything about the staff.’
‘I thought there were going to be no “ I told you so ’s.”’
‘For crying out loud, though, Emms!’ He snatched her phone up and read the message for himself. ‘There’s is a bloody kiss at the end. The bastard.’
‘Yeah. That means nothing. I’ve done it myself by mistake, loads of times. Too late to take it back once you’ve pressed send — and the person on the other end is left wondering if you fancy them.’ She smiled weakly.
‘You’re right. It’ll be a mistake — or he needs a good slapping for being so heartless.’ Finbar swore again and threw the phone onto the table. He patted Emerald’s arm. ‘It’s not your fault, honey. He knows how to play people and he’s ruthless. That’s why he’s so successful.’
She didn’t answer, still couldn’t believe that he had made love to her so thoroughly and then betrayed her so totally. Not only was she about to lose her job, but all the delightful fantasies she’d harboured, of a future with the man she loved had proved to be an illusion. How could anyone be so cruel?
‘But he wasn’t like that, ever,’ she asserted.
‘Of course he was like that. You just didn’t see it because he made you all moonstruck.’ Finbar sighed and drummed his fingers on the table. ‘I don’t know what to suggest, right now.’
She shook her head still in shock. But even as she tried to defend him, a deep humiliation crept up on her, colouring her cheeks. To think of the intimate things she’d done with him — totally abandoning her prudish tendencies, believing that it wasn’t so much about sex as discovering each other — falling in love. But it wasn’t love, it was calculating sex. One merciless man using her in the most callous way possible. Her big beautiful dream had turned into an appalling nightmare.
‘If ever there was a time to put a laxative in someone’s coffee, this is it,’ Fin said, always on her side.
‘I’d beat you to it.’
‘I suppose he was fantastic in bed, was he?’
Emerald’s eyes widened. ‘For God’s sake, Finbar, I’ve just lost my job and you want to know what he’s like in bed?’
‘Yes.’ His grin didn’t fade. ‘Ultimate fantasies and all that — can’t help it. And I think you might want to use the past tense from now on about your sex life with Mr Cavarelli.’
‘My ex sex life then, if that makes you happier.’ She was too shocked to cry, but slowly her predicament hit her. ‘He knows I have no family to help me.’ She shook her head, helplessly. ‘All the other stuff we talked about too. I just can’t take it in. Does it mean he’s sacked me?’ She scanned through the message once more and came to the same sad conclusion.
‘Do you want to call him? I assume you feel close enough to do that?’
She considered it. Yelling at him and telling him what a bastard he was sounded like a good option, but what good would it do? ‘Maybe he doesn’t mean it — or maybe it was a mistake — I don’t want to make it worse.’
‘Or, maybe he just sees you as an annoyance now.’ Finbar looked thoughtful. ‘And what kind of mistake would “clear your desk” be? I don’t think anyone could make a mistake like that, to be honest.’
Emerald sagged. ‘At least he had the grace to text me.’
‘Really? You are actually grateful that he personally sacked you by text ?’
‘You’re right. What the hell am I thinking?’ She shook her head in disbelief. ‘And how can he expect me to face him, after what he’s done to me, what we did together? Oh, God. I can’t see him ever again, Fin, I just can’t.’
She looked down sorrowfully into her tea, shaking her head saying over and over. ‘I can’t believe it.’
They both sat staring out of the window watching the aircraft coming into land, saying nothing. Emerald was remembering another time when she sat watching the aircraft, in that same café, with Marco in front of her, berating her for her behaviour. How long ago that seemed now. And yet hadn’t she just gone and proved him one hundred per cent correct? Sleeping with the boss, no less.
Finally she blew out a long breath. ‘I have to leave. My job, the company, everything I hold dear. Right now.’
Finbar seemed to wake from a trance as he took her hand. ‘Wait, sweetie, you can’t afford to walk out — and anyway, he’s not even here.’
‘He’s given me no choice, Fin. Staying is not an option. At least this way I can leave on my own terms.’
‘Hang on a minute. Let me make a few phone calls and see who’s recruiting. You might be lucky.’ He pressed her hand and she held on to it like the lifeline it was.
Finbar quickly started browsing through his phone. ‘So many names. I can’t even put faces to some of them.’
Emerald glanced over at his phone assuming he was talking about boyfriends, one night stands, acquaintances, even Facebook friends. He seemed to have hundreds of names in his contacts list. ‘It could take days,’ she said.
‘Yes.’ He sighed. ‘Look, why don’t you go home and I’ll sort out the rosters and the staff? You’re not flying today, are you?’
‘No, not until Thursday.’
‘I’ll change the roster and take you off it. I’ll sort it. You go home.’
She nodded gratefully. ‘Thanks, Fin. I can’t go back in there, not now.’
She pushed to her feet and Finbar followed suit. ‘I’ll call you later, okay?’
She nodded mutely, dragging her heels as she headed for her car, hoping for a last-minute reprieve, although what shape such a thing would come in, was anyone’s guess. Marco skidding to a stop in a Batmobile or sliding down the walls like Spiderman, ready to save the day? She didn’t think so.
Climbing into her car, she let herself wilt. Spent of energy, she rested her head on the steering wheel as a pain so deep and penetrating engulfed her. ‘Why, why?’ she wailed. ‘Oh, Marco, how could you?’ She clutched at her chest, feeling an almost physical pain from his betrayal.
She had allowed herself to fall in love with her boss so easily, but all the charm and the loving kisses had been a ploy to trick her into divulging Hot Air’s secrets, and like the idiot she so clearly was, she’d fallen for it. What a total shit he was and what a traitor she had been, causing colleagues to lose their jobs, their livelihood. What on earth had she been thinking? Over and over it ran in her head.
Finally, she fired up her car, smiling like she always did, to the parking attendant as he waved her through the barrier. The journey home made her see things in a different light and by the time she arrived at her front door her new emotions were murderous. Marco was a duplicitous bastard and she would never see him again.
By the time she put her key in the door, she’d decided on a plan. She immediately phoned Finbar and asked him to remove any details from her physical file and the file on the computer, so determined was she never to cross paths with the man she’d believed would redeem her faith in humankind. Never again.