The Importance of Being Emma (35 page)

All of a sudden, it dawned on me. As my pregnancy started to show, I’d have to endure all the gossip. ‘Fancy Emma Woodhouse making that sort of mistake! But then she always thought she was better than everyone else in Highbury. Now who could the father be?’

I wondered gloomily how Dad would react. I decided he’d either get permanently bloated, in the spirit of a sympathetic pregnancy, or become obsessed with the potential risks to my health.

Then there was Izzy; she’d probably accuse me of being immoral and irresponsible and forbid me to have anything more to do with her children. And what about John? What if, for once, he agreed with her?

I was sure Kate and Tom would be supportive; but naturally, when their own baby arrived, they’d have far less time for me and my problems.

As for Batty, she would be positively unbearable. She’d smother me with kindness and those endless pairs of pale yellow bootees she used to knit for Izzy. I could just hear her rabbiting on at me: ‘You can’t have too many of them, Baby’s little feet can get quite chilly and …
Such
a lovely colour, it does for a boy or a … Still keeping us in the dark about its father, dear? Never mind, I’m sure we’ll be able to tell who Baby looks like when it’s born, so exciting, perhaps I’ll organise a Guess the Daddy stall at the Autumn Fayre.’

Funny, until Kate told me her news, I hadn’t thought any of this through. It was as though her pregnancy – so straightforward, so welcome, so
right
– made me realise what a mess mine would be.

But this much was clear: whatever the truth of the situation, I had to tell Mark I wasn’t pregnant. I needed him safely back in India and out of my life.

~~MARK~~

I wondered what Emma and Kate were talking about. Whatever it was, it made Kate happy but left Emma quite upset. Once she was on her own, her face drained of its colour and, for a moment, I thought she was going to faint.

I frowned. Normally, I’d have gone over and probed a bit, or jollied her out of it. But there was no such thing as normality any more, only the appearance of it. And anyway, she didn’t need me, she had Churchill. She certainly couldn’t take her eyes off him, which filled me with a sense of foreboding. What if my playing it cool for the past few weeks had been completely the wrong tactic?

As a result, when Tom asked for silence so that he could make ‘an important announcement’, I broke out in a cold sweat – because I knew what was coming. Strange, though; I’d have expected Henry to do the honours, not Tom. Unless Henry didn’t approve?

My mouth went dry as I glanced across at Emma. She looked strained rather than pleased, and there was no ring on her engagement finger. But, of course, she’d be concerned about her father’s reaction; or perhaps Churchill wanted to put the ring on in front of everyone, like the flamboyant bastard he was.

Emily started to wail and Emma picked her up to comfort her; odd, when I’d have thought she’d need her hands free …

Just then, Tom cleared his throat. ‘Thank you, everybody. I’m delighted to announce’ – I closed my eyes to blot out the inevitable – ‘that in June, all being well,’ – oh, get on with it, for God’s sake! – ‘a new member of the Weston family will put in his or her appearance.’

I let out a long slow breath. In other words, Kate and Tom were expecting a baby. Why hadn’t I guessed? It was the most natural thing in the world, even if they were both getting on a bit. I opened my eyes and grinned inanely at no one in particular.

Tom drew Kate’s arm through his. ‘Please join me in a toast to my lovely wife and the safe arrival of Baby Weston!’

As we raised our glasses and echoed his words, I took the opportunity to study the faces around me. Everyone seemed delighted, with two notable exceptions. Henry looked apprehensive, presumably speculating on what could go wrong with Kate’s pregnancy. And, although I couldn’t see Emma’s expression properly for Emily’s head, her eyes were suspiciously bright. They met mine, then flicked away.

I understood perfectly. Kate and Tom’s news had been a timely reminder that she might be carrying my child.

And the contrast with Kate’s happiness couldn’t be more marked.

~~EMMA~~

After the toast, Flynn sauntered over to me, lifted a rather surprised Emily out of my arms and pressed a small, square, gift-wrapped box into my hand.

‘
Here’s the really nice present I got you.’ He gave Emily a wary look. ‘Hope she doesn’t throw up, this is my best shirt. Still, it looks as though I’ll have to get used to having a baby around.’

I felt my face flush with embarrassment. ‘But I haven’t got you anything!’

‘
Just open it, woman.’

Inside the box was a pair of ornate sapphire and diamond earrings. Not to my taste at all and, judging by the name on the lid, horribly expensive. Grant’s of Kingston was renowned for its showy jewellery and high prices; Tom had bought Kate’s engagement ring there, against my recommendation.

With a pretence at regret, I said, ‘A very generous gift, but I can’t possibly accept it.’

‘
That’s a real shame.’ But he didn’t sound at all disappointed; and he snatched the box back rather too quickly for my liking.

My eyes narrowed. ‘Did you buy these for somebody else?’

He gave a nervous laugh. ‘How did you guess?’

‘
Oh, it’s my feminine intuition, it can be a real curse at times,’ I said in a friendlier tone, thinking that these monstrosities were just the sort of thing Harriet would adore – provided she thought they were fake.

He hesitated, then said in a low voice, ‘I was going to give them to a certain person we both know, but I was scared she’d hate them so I bottled out. And Kate and Dad assumed they were for you, so I decided I’d better play along. You see, I’m in their bad books because of all the time I’m spending away from Highbury.’ He added, with a beguiling grin, ‘Don’t suppose you’d wear them, just while we’re here? It’d do my credibility a power of good.’

Fortunately for him, this last revelation deprived me of the power of speech.

He went on, ‘I’d need them back, of course, but there’s no rush. How about it?’

I took a deep, steadying breath. ‘I don’t think so. If “a certain person” means so much to you, surely you’d want her to be the first to wear them. And remember, she works for me. I know she’ll love them, she might just need some persuading to accept them. It’s early days, after all.’

He laughed. ‘You’re right, I need to be patient, she’s not used to being showered with expensive gifts. Em, you’re a star!’ He hugged me with such enthusiasm that Emily got almost crushed between us and started to cry.

I drew back with a tight little smile. ‘See if you can calm Emily down, you obviously need the practice. Excuse me while I go and check on the lunch.’

It was a relief to escape to the kitchen and busy myself with undemanding tasks; I steamed the green vegetables, made the gravy and added the finishing touches to Dad’s alternative Christmas meal, which this year was a daring combination of poached lemon sole followed by natural yogurt.

At half past two, when Kate, Tom and Flynn had left, the rest of us sat down to lunch. Dad and I were at opposite ends of the dining table and I put Mark next to Dad, as far away from me as possible. Only trouble was, every time I spoke to Dad, I found myself looking at
him
.

Needless to say, Izzy’s sole topic of conversation was Kate’s pregnancy. Over the turkey, she and Dad commiserated about all the possible complications Kate’s age might cause. By the time I handed round the Christmas pudding and mince pies, she’d moved on to the subject of Randalls.

‘
They’ll have far too much work to do on that house before June,’ she said, disapprovingly. ‘It’s not at all suitable for a baby, you’d think they’d have sorted that first before she got pregnant.’

‘
Accidents can happen,’ Mark said shortly.

At his words, my spoon clattered loudly against my plate.

Izzy gave him a frosty look. ‘But they’re old enough to know better – ’

‘
Aren’t we all?’ he countered. ‘Anyway, it’s entirely their business. Henry, would you like me to pass you a mince pie to liven up that yogurt?’

Dad shuddered. ‘No thank you, Mark, you’ve obviously forgotten what dried fruit does to me or you wouldn’t even suggest it … But now I come to think about it, Emma, is there any of that nice stewed apple left from the other day?’

‘
I’m sure there is.’ I stood up, glad to have an excuse to leave the table. As well as the conversation making me uncomfortable, I felt as though I’d eaten too much. Or maybe it was something else. As I crossed the hall, I stopped. I hadn’t been mistaken; there it was again, a familiar dull ache in my stomach.

Instead of going to the kitchen, I made my way slowly upstairs to the bathroom.

~~MARK~~

When Churchill gave Emma a little jeweller’s box, any relief I’d felt at Tom’s announcement evaporated. I just knew it contained an engagement ring. Sick to my stomach, I watched her look at it in awe and presumably suggest they held off a while, so as not to steal Kate and Tom’s thunder. And then the bastard took her in his arms, right there, in front of everyone. At that point, I became intensely interested in Bella’s new Barbie doll.

Things improved after he left. Over lunch, Emma appeared to be heeding my words about making an effort in front of the family. But Izzy had to go and spoil it all, harping on about Kate’s pregnancy. Naturally, she had no idea it was such a sensitive topic for some of us; she just saw it as the ideal opportunity to demonstrate her expertise in such matters. Eventually I changed the subject to Henry’s diet, which could usually be guaranteed to dominate any conversation.

I sensed that Emma was as dismayed as I was by Izzy’s comments. She certainly took a long time to fetch Henry’s stewed apple and, when she returned, she looked pale and drawn. In fact, during our customary walk after lunch she barely said a word, even to the kids.

As soon as we got back to Hartfield, I decided I’d had enough. I said my goodbyes and fended off the kids’ pleas to come back to Donwell Abbey, knowing that the only company I’d be fit for that evening was a bottle of whisky.

Emma had gone to the kitchen to make some tea. I popped my head round the door, intending to say thank you and goodbye as quickly as possible. But the words died on my lips. She was standing with her back to me, the tea tray all ready on the table next to her. At first glance, I thought she was just daydreaming; then I noticed she was hugging her stomach and her shoulders were shaking, as though she was crying. I paused in the doorway, paralysed by indecision. Should I go to her, or not?

At last I spoke, my voice hoarse with a cocktail of emotions – fear, frustration, yearning, love. ‘Emma – what is it, what’s wrong?’

She straightened up immediately, lifted the lid of the teapot and stirred the contents with a spoon. I couldn’t see her face, but she sounded calm enough, matter-of-fact even.

‘
It’s only stomach cramps, the ones I get every month. They can be quite painful until the ibuprofen takes effect.’

It took a few seconds for the message to sink in. ‘So you’re not pregnant,’ I said, quietly. I stepped forward, arms outstretched, aching to offer comfort.

‘
No, I’m not … Thank God.’ She spoke loudly and distinctly, her meaning unmistakable.

I stopped short and let my arms fall to my sides. What good was comfort if she felt only relief? ‘You’re right, perhaps it’s for the best,’ I heard myself say.

She didn’t answer, just poured the tea carefully into the cups.

I cleared my throat. ‘As I said in that letter, if you’re not pregnant then maybe we should just forget what happened.’

A pause; then, ‘Believe me, I already have.’

I didn’t believe for one moment she had, but I certainly believed she wanted to.

Slowly, silently, I turned and walked to the front door.

~~EMMA~~

He’d caught me unawares in the kitchen but I was pretty sure I’d put on a convincing act. I mean, he certainly hadn’t hung around, hadn’t even said goodbye. He must have been as relieved as I’d pretended to be.

Ironic, wasn’t it? I’d only just decided I would tell him I wasn’t pregnant, to get him out of the way. Then along came my period, right on cue, making the lie totally unnecessary. I should have been delighted that there would be no obvious consequences from that disastrous night. Life could return to normal once he went back to India. So why did I feel so empty? Why did I wish I was pregnant, if only – out of pure selfishness – to have a little part of him to myself? It was crazy, so crazy that I almost laughed out loud. Except – I couldn’t; I felt more like crying.

I was about to take the tray through to the drawing room, when John came in.

‘
Thought you must have gone to China to pick the tea leaves,’ he said. ‘Presumably Mark delayed you.’

I gave a wan smile. ‘Not really, he was only here a couple of minutes.’

‘
Oh?’ He took the tray from me. ‘What’s going on between you two, anyway?’

‘
Going on?’

He rolled his eyes. ‘For God’s sake, your sister and father may be blind as bats but any normal person can see that something’s up. And I can always tell when Mark’s rattled.’ He looked straight at me, waiting for an answer.