The Secret Art of Forgiveness Page 22

  Tam nodded sharply. ‘I suppose I could do it. Because you’re desperate and the whole reputation of the event is at stake.’ Tam’s gaze caught Emily’s and held. They were both acutely aware of the game playing out. This time Tam had won. And Emily let her.

  ‘Thank you.’ Strangely, though, as she said the words, Emily didn’t feel as if she’d lost. She felt as if she’d straddled a bridge, walking in Tam’s shoes for a change and realising just how hard asking for help had been – and yet she’d done it. For once in her life she felt a flicker of admiration for her stepsister.

  She moved on to the next item on the agenda. ‘Ticket sales will start tomorrow. I’m hoping the schools will help out and the colleges. And churches? Art groups? Let’s all rally together and give a big push. I’m taking delivery of the tickets in the morning and can drop them off to you all over the course of the day.’

  ‘Oh, er, sorry I’m late.’ Liam edged into the room, eyes darting, searching. Oh, yes. He found Sally, grinned sheepishly, and made a beeline for the empty chair next to her – conveniently saved for him, she supposed, by Sal’s large handbag atop the silk cushion. He settled in and asked, ‘Where are we up to?’

  Em answered, ‘We’ve pretty much gone through most of it. Sally was telling us about the amazing work you’ve done so far.’ Sal’s chest positively swelled as she wriggled in her seat and gave Liam a coy smile. There was no touching between them, just the odd sneaky look and embarrassed smiles. Clearly there was something happening there, but nothing tangible so far. ‘Well done. I was just wondering – do you ever have live bands on at the pub?’

  ‘Sometimes, on special occasions. We get loads of enquiries, but I don’t know if any of them are any good. I have a couple of favourites, but I’ve got a stack of business cards and flyers if you want me to give them to you?’

  ‘That would be fabulous.’

  ‘Where are they going to play, these bands? And on what? With what?’ Tam was perched on the edge of her seat. ‘It’s all very well having great ideas, but details are what matter. Especially so close to the event.’ She shook her head. ‘I have severe concerns that it’s going to be a disaster.’

  Gee, thanks. ‘The primary school is lending us staging and a marquee. I think we’ll have to hire a PA system, especially if we’re having live music in two venues –’

  ‘We can use mine... well, the pub’s. And I’ll ask a mate over at The Royal, see if we can borrow his.’ Liam smiled and ran an embarrassed hand through his short, scrappy hair. ‘Shouldn’t be a problem; he owes me a favour.’

  ‘Fabulous. As we don’t have much float left we’ll have to negotiate to pay people afterwards if we can, but try to borrow as much as possible. It’s amazing what people are willing to let you use for a good cause.’

  She covered the rest of the agenda as quickly as possible and made sure to thank everyone. By the time the meeting had finished it was almost bedtime. The committee members were starting to stream out the door, but she noticed Jacob chatting at the far end of the room with Liam. He’d relaxed a lot since Afghanistan had been mentioned. She watched as he laughed at something Liam said. The way his head tilted back, the crinkle of his eyes.

  Next thing she knew Sally was nudging her. ‘Two decent-looking men, plus two fabulous women. If my maths is correct that equals a good night out. What do you think? Fancy a double date?’

  ‘Er… no.’

  ‘Just for fun, because I know you’re engaged and all, but help me out?’

  She really had to talk to Sal about the broken-off engagement, but this wasn’t the time. ‘I can’t. Honestly. Maybe just you and I could go? Or we could just get some band names and look them up on YouTube? That would work.’

  Sal clutched Em’s arm and whispered, ‘Please. It’s hopeless. Really. I need to get more time with him in a non-threatening way. We’ve been out, what? Three times? We seem to be getting on really well, you know, having a laugh. Then, just when I think he’s going to make a move, he doesn’t. I’m beside myself. I really fancy the bloody pants off him. Please.’

  ‘I don’t know.’ It was the worst idea ever. But it would help out a mate.

  ‘Okay, let’s reframe.’ With a glint in her eye, Sal smiled. ‘How about this… are you free to come to a talent quest over at The Swan in Belwick on Tuesday? We could suss out some bands for our festival, so it would be strictly on committee business. Very important and serious and not a date at all?’

  ‘Hmmm… we do need to have some more bands at the festival.’ Tempting. So bloody tempting.

  ‘Kill two very attractive birds with one very perfectly honed stone? Come on?’

  Emily laughed. ‘I have no idea what you’re saying, but it sounds like fighting talk. I don’t want to put Jacob in a situation that would make him feel uncomfortable. He probably doesn’t… I can’t…’

  ‘Oh, please. You can act pure as the driven snow with Jacob, but I just want to get… dirty. Sorry. I know. Too much information. But it’s been a long time. And you need to get out more; you can’t spend every night with Tamara and The Judge – ha ha, that sounds like a terrible sitcom.’

  Sometimes it felt like one, too. But Em couldn’t get past the thought of dirty and Jacob. She felt very hot all over again. ‘Exactly. I’d need to find someone to look after The Judge. I don’t think I should come. We have so much to do and it’s not that kind of…’

  ‘All I’m hearing is blah, blah, blah. You owe me, Emily.’ Sal was already marching over to them. Whatever she said, Emily didn’t catch, but first Liam nodded, then Jacob glanced over to Emily. She smiled in a friendly and non-threatening way and gave a light shrug. Certainly not in any lascivious way, she hoped. Not my fault. Then he turned back to Sal and nodded.

  Wait. She owed Sally what?

  Her friend gave her a discreet thumbs-up and Emily prayed for the earth to swallow her up.

  God, a double date night. So utterly inappropriate. What the hell had she just let herself in for? Everything in her life was barrelling out of her control and she did not like it one jot.

  Chapter Fourteen

  ‘It’s just no good, I can’t live with her a day longer. She’s so messy. There are paints and canvases everywhere, paintbrushes in my kitchen sink, blobs of red and purple on my new white sofa. She meditates in the middle of the lounge floor at very inconvenient times. What can I do?’ Tam was sitting at the kitchen table at The Hall for one of their daily catch-up meetings. This was the third day in a row she’d been on this particular rant. ‘Every time I mention she needs to get a place of her own she sobs that she doesn’t want to be alone.’

  Emily sighed. ‘You just need to tell her, Tam. Although, be gentle because she’s been through a difficult time. It’s hard breaking up with someone.’ Em knew how hard the truth hurt. She’d broken the news about Brett to her stepsisters but they’d barely batted an eyelid. Tam had told her it was probably for the best; after all, Emily wasn’t exactly a good bet. Matilda had said a broken engagement couldn’t possibly compare to ending nine years of marriage. So much for sisterly support and strengthened family ties. ‘It’s not like you to be backward in coming forward.’

  ‘Yes. Well. I’m learning these days that not everyone responds quite so well to direct honesty. I always thought I was doing people a favour by telling them what I thought, but maybe that’s not what they want to hear.’

  Well, here was a breakthrough. ‘Would you like me to talk to her –?’

  They were interrupted by a scuffle, the whoosh of the door swinging open and a rustle of skirts. Did nobody knock these days? ‘Emily! My God. I’m so annoyed. You’ll never believe what she’s gone and done this time…’ Cheeks flushed, Tilda swept into the room. The flush spread through her body at the sight of her sister and she stopped dead. ‘Oh. Hello, Tam. I thought you’d still be at work.’

  ‘Good evening, Matilda. I finished early so I could come and debrief with Emily. We had a meeting this afternoon with the bank and we need t
o decide how we’re going to proceed.’

  ‘And you didn’t think to invite me?’ Matilda slumped into a chair and wrapped her skirts around her legs like a comfort blanket. She had an air of the injured martyr about her. ‘Thanks a bunch. Didn’t you think I’d want to be involved?’

  ‘Stop sulking. I didn’t want to bother you. You have enough on your plate.’ Tam bristled, clearly taking the gentlest route she knew, which was really not very gentle. ‘But basically, we’re in a pickle. The bank isn’t prepared to let us take out a second mortgage on The Hall to fix the roof because none of us earns enough to pay it back. Well, neither you nor I do. Emily Jane isn’t included, because she lives and works abroad.’ She spat the words out as if they were something she’d found on her shoe. ‘And we’ve been to the estate agent’s and instructed them to put a large portion of the land and some of the outhouses up for sale. So, that’s it. Basically we’re selling Daddy’s home from under his feet. He won’t be able to stroll around the gardens, or wander into any of the buildings other than this one. He won’t understand.’ She sucked in a stuttering breath. ‘And I promised him we’d never do anything like this.’

  ‘Don’t cry.’ Matilda went to her sister and kissed her cheek. ‘It is terrible news, though.’

  Emily looked at their long faces and marvelled at how quickly siblings could roll from enemies to best friends from one minute to the next. That was something she’d never understand. She’d always be a singleton, always on the outside. However hard she tried with her stepsisters, she’d never quite fit in. And the knowledge of that made her sad. ‘Hey, it’s the best we can make of a bad job. We have to be positive; at least we haven’t lost The Hall altogether, and with the proceeds from our stall we can fix the roof. Talking of The Hall, Tilda, I was wondering if you could help me with something?’

  ‘I guess. What is it?’ Matilda barely raised an eyebrow of interest.

  ‘I want to get the annexe ready for the festival. It needs a good coat of paint and a clean-up. I was thinking we could use it for one of the art workshops. It has lovely light in there and lots of room, plus an en-suite, so anyone needing the loo won’t need to traipse up to the house or across the lawns to the portaloos.’ She sighed and gave a little wink to Tamara. This is how you do it gently, love. ‘Shame I’m not staying, because it would be lovely to live in there; great view across the valley, space for an office, or a... well, a studio. Part of The Hall, but a little removed. Great privacy. Beautiful…’ She pretended to shake herself from a lovely reverie. ‘Anyway, I found some creamy white emulsion and gloss in the garage and I think it’d be perfect, but it’s too big a job for just me in the short time we’ve got.’ There. She hoped she’d planted the seed in Tilda’s mind.

  Tamara was looking at her with a secretive smile. That was another one she could add to her list. Seemed she was surrounded by people hugging happy little secrets to themselves. Her stepsister caught on quickly. ‘What a great idea. And such a shame you couldn’t use it long-term, Emily. You’re right; it’s ideal for someone to live in with a little spruce-up. Can’t think why it didn’t occur to me before.’

  ‘And there’s a great sturdy lock on it, too. So no one need bother you or your things. Maybe we should fix it up as a rental; we could get some income from it.’

  ‘Oh?’ Tilda sat up straighter. ‘A studio, too? Is there a bedroom?’

  ‘Two. And a lovely working kitchen with amazing tiles on the walls. Don’t you remember? The housekeeper used to live in there?’ And maybe now you could, too?

  After setting Liam and Sally up on a subcommittee working group and now finding an easy solution to her stepsisters’ living-arrangement woes, Emily had the strangest feeling she was becoming something akin to a relationship counsellor. Then she laughed to herself, because with her failed engagement and unwanted attraction to Jacob Taylor that was the funniest joke in the book.

  * * *

  ‘I hope you don’t mind, but I’ve invited Greta and Sean to join us, too? I thought it’d take the heat off you and Jacob, seeing as you didn’t seem that keen to be around him. And hopefully it’ll make Liam relax a little,’ Sally whispered to Emily as they worked their way through the bar to the last empty table while the men got the first round in.

  There was a flood of relief through Emily’s veins. The spotlight wouldn’t be on couples then. Just a group of friends on a night out. ‘Great, it sounds fun.’

  But Sally was more astute than Emily had given her credit for. ‘Is there a problem with you and Jacob?’

  ‘Oh. No. Nothing at all.’ Liar. There was a big problem. Emily wondered whether her face was belying her words, and whether she was wearing one of those secretive smiles she kept seeing. ‘It’s just fun if there’s a crowd, that’s all. And Greta’s lovely.’

  ‘I know. I can’t believe we were so mean to her at school. I still feel bad about that.’ Sal sat down but carved out a space on the banquette next to her with her coat and bag. ‘Would it be obvious if I saved this place for Liam?’

  ‘Not really. Do you want me to make a big sign, just so he gets the message? I’ve got some A4 paper somewhere.’ Em made a play of reaching into her satchel.

  Sal’s voice rose a notch. ‘Oh! Your ring? Where’s the ring?’

  Oh, God. It had to happen sometime. What was the fascination with looking at her fingers all of a sudden? She looked down at her hand and felt the familiar sensation of regret and panic and relief. ‘We… er, well… we split up.’

  ‘Oh, you poor thing. Here’s me going all Cupid and you’ve got a broken heart. What the hell happened?’

  Em was just about to brush the whole thing off when Greta sidled up. ‘Hey, you two. How’s things?’

  She tried to sit in Liam’s seat and was ushered along to the next one by Sally. ‘Emily’s got a broken heart. Brett’s dumped her.’

  ‘Actually, I broke it off.’ Emily wondered whether she should tell them more, but decided not to. Their friendship was still fledgling and she didn’t want to open her love life up to analysis. But… actually, when she thought about it, surprisingly, she did. The pressure inside her was just increasing and increasing. She felt an overwhelming need to spill her thoughts and her feelings, and knew she would be safe with these women. ‘To be honest, I didn’t know whether he was the right guy for me. I had doubts, you know?’

  ‘Oh, Em.’ Greta’s hand covered hers. ‘I had thought you didn’t seem as excited as you should be. I’m sorry. You want to talk about it? Quick, before the men come back?’

  The men were locked in conversation at the bar. There was a little time. ‘I don’t know… I don’t even know what to say. There was something inside me that felt as if it wasn’t right, you know? We lost our zing.’ And she seemed to have located it again; unfortunately, not with the right guy.

  Sally patted Emily’s hand. ‘Well, at least you had the guts to say something. You did the right thing.’

  Thanks to Jacob. Out of the corner of her eye she could see him. He was talking to Liam, something serious, by the looks of it. But then, as if he could feel her eyes on him, he glanced over and their eyes locked. He smiled. Shit. She focused on the conversation with the girls, which was, after all, about her whole regretful love life. ‘I’m taking time out to think things through.’

  ‘So you’re still a couple, then?’

  ‘No. I don’t think so. It’s complicated. But he said he’d wait for me, for my answer.’

  ‘Is it still okay to swoon? ‘Cos he’s lovely, really. Can I have him instead of you?’ Greta gave a cheeky smile.

  Emily gave her one back. ‘You’ve got Sean.’

  ‘Oh, I know.’ Looking over to the bar, Greta caught her husband’s eye. He pulled a face and wiggled his groin in her direction. She laughed and shook her head, her eyes shining and her cheeks red. ‘God, I love him. And I wouldn’t change him for the world. Ever.’

  That, that right there, was what Em was chasing. That confidence in love, uncondition
al acceptance. She’d been chasing it all her life really, with friends, family, boyfriends. She’d had it with her parents, but had been looking for it ever since they’d died. ‘I’m hoping that once I see Brett I’ll know for absolute sure either way.’

  Sally grimaced. ‘That could be awkward back at work, then.’

  ‘I know.’ What if she still didn’t want him when she saw him? She thought about all the great times they’d had, the teamwork, the happy vibe in the office, those long Sunday mornings she used to love. And wondered how the heck it’d be when she returned. She would work extra hard to make sure things weren’t difficult at Baddermans. If she still had her job after this. A different kind of pressure started to kick in her stomach. She shouldn’t be here; she should be working her butt off for her job. ‘I’m hoping we’re both big enough to deal with it like reasonable adults, but – yeah. Awkward.’

  Sean arrived carrying three drinks between two hands. He edged past his wife and placed the glasses gently on the table. ‘What’s awkward?’

  ‘Eavesdropping on a private conversation,’ Greta teased her husband.

  ‘Why? What’s so private? Oh, I get it, you’re giving us marks out of ten?’ He wiggled his hips in a dance that was at once completely oversexual and hilarious. ‘I reckon I’m an eleven. Twelve?’

  ‘In your dreams, lover boy.’ Greta pulled him to her and kissed him. ‘Okay, maybe you’re a ten and a half.’

  It was so easy, so natural. Nothing like Emily had had with Brett – what they’d had was kind and considerate and considered, but not carefree. And she knew she shouldn’t compare her relationships with everyone else’s, but she wondered if there was a way she could get that with him, if she tried really hard to relax, to just be herself like she was here.

  Four hours and a shortlist of five reasonable bands, two definite nos and one stellar solo artist later, the taxi pulled up outside The Hall. Sean and Greta had been picked up by Greta’s mum. Having dropped off Liam and Sally – together, at Sal’s house – only Emily and Jacob were left.