Chapter 29
“How was the date?” Allaine whispered as Emma stepped in close next to her in the playground. Farrell stayed glued to her left leg as though instinctively knowing something was wrong.
“He was a jerk!” Emma commented, misery oozing from her like a tangible thing.
“Oh, I’m sorry!” Allaine sympathised, putting her arm around her friend. Farrell gave a low growl and the woman stepped back in surprise. “Oh. What’s wrong with him?”
“Sorry.” Emma pulled on the leash as a reprimand. “He’s feeling a bit protective over me today. The guy was that kind of jerk.”
“Oh no, really? He didn’t hurt you, did he?” Allaine turned terrified eyes on her friend, searching for hidden pain or anguish.
Emma opened her mouth to answer, silenced by Mel’s exuberant appearance. “I got the job!” Mel squealed, throwing her arms around both women in her excitement. “I actually got the job. I start on Monday and I’m so excited!”
The women hugged and congratulated and allowed Mel’s happiness to rub off on them. She pulled a paper bag shyly from her pocket as the children poured out, handing it to Emma. “I did a couple of hours practice this morning and my new boss paid me. So I got you these.”
Emma took the bag and pulled out the contents. A brand new pair of knitted black gloves lay in her palm, decorated around the cuffs with tiny pink flowers. Her eyes filled with tears and the last twenty four hours spilled over, leaving her breathless and crying.
Nicky was anxious when he emerged from school and found his mother in tears. He hung around her feet, ignoring his friends’ urging to come and play, gripping the material of Emma’s jacket in frightened fingers.
Mel left with Mohammed, secretly pleased her gift of a few coins had touched Emma so deeply, but Allaine wasn’t fooled. The older woman led Emma to the park and they sat together on a bench under the trees.
Nicky stuck to them but Allaine sent him away to play on the swings with Kaylee. “Here, take the dog.” she told him. “Keep him on the lead but give him a little run around. I’ll look after Mummy.”
Reluctantly, Nicky wandered off, staying within earshot. Allaine sat waiting, exhibiting her great patience while Emma collected herself. When Emma spoke, it was haltingly. “The guy last night didn’t like me at all. He was a colleague of Ro’s who seems to have double crossed him. Rohan’s gone off to do some retrieval job I don’t understand, without any of the help he needs and the guy who was meant to support him was pretending to like me. He took me to dinner and then a nightclub. He got me a bit drunk and...” Emma paused in shame at her own stupidity. “I just happened to see him talking with these two heavies as I came out of the toilet. I think they were planning to take me within the hour and I ran home. I thought they were rapists until Rohan became spooked this morning. Something’s wrong and he thinks Nicky and I are in danger.”
Allaine breathed out. “My husband will know what to do. Will’s a policeman...”
“No! Rohan said not to talk to anyone. I’m sorry. I don’t mean to offend you but he said I should dial emergency only if I felt in real danger. I have to do what he says.”
“What a mess!” Allaine breathed. “What will you do?”
Emma turned towards her, her eyes trusting and desperate. “Allaine, if for some reason I don’t turn up at school to get Nicky, please will you take him for me?”
Allaine’s blue eyes filled with horror. “Emma this is serious! You can’t ask me to do this without talking to my husband...”
“Please?” Emma looked desperate. “Please Allaine? Rohan’s his father. If he comes home first, please let Nicky go to him. If neither of us turn up...there is nobody else. His mother cannot have Nicky under any circumstances. She killed Ro’s father and mine. Anton and I knew that, we just couldn’t work out how. Please Allaine, I’ve nobody else I can ask. Will you help me? I’ll tell Mrs Clarke in the morning that if I’m not here, you can take my son.”
Allaine’s chin wobbled with stress and her eyes filled with tears. “Of course I will. You didn’t need to ask. Let’s just pray it doesn’t happen.”
The women walked back to where Emma had abandoned Rohan’s expensive car on the road outside school. The women, children and dog piled into the plush vehicle and Emma kangarooed it home, finding the automatic gearbox a mystery and the indicators on the wrong side. Emma parked on the street ready for the next morning and Allaine gave her a hug before they parted. “Take care,” she urged Emma. “We’ll hold you in our prayers.”
“Allaine?” Emma looked conflicted as the children swung on Rohan’s wooden gate. “I need to wash your dress and there’s a little rip I have to mend before I give it back. I’m sorry.”
“It doesn’t matter.” Allaine enfolded Emma in a warm hug and whispered in her ear. “Call me if you need me.”
Emma locked up the house early and charged her phone. Nicky fiddled with the buttons and she grew cross with him. “There’s no credit on it anyway, Mummy. You can’t do ringing can you?”
“No,” she admitted, sniffing sadly until Nicky cried too.
“I need Uncle Ro,” he wailed. “He makes everything better.”
“I know, baby,” Emma whispered, holding her small son tight against her stomach. “Then pray for him to your friend, God. Pray for him like you never have before.”
They went to bed early in Rohan’s room, darkening the house against the deepening night. They watched TV on his small portable, Nicky favouring the mindless cartoons and Emma’s eyes misting over as she fretted. The doorbell rang at eight o’clock and Emma ran to her room to see who it was, fearing Christopher’s dark shape in the street below.
Felicity looked up at the house, stepping backwards to rake the windows with eager eyes. Emma hid behind the curtains and sighed, wishing the pushy woman nothing but ill. “I know you’re up there, bitch!” Felicity shouted, drawing attention from the neighbours across the street. “Get downstairs and face me, you whore. Alanya was right about you. We’re gonna get you, slut! You and that kid of yours will be sorry!”
“I’m calling the police!” a man’s voice shouted from an upstairs window opposite and Felicity took a last look up at the house and clip clopped quickly away.
Farrell slept in his bed next to the door, settling down with groans and padding around the house periodically. He wasn’t meant to be upstairs and the well trained dog knew it, needing to be brought up on his leash and looking continually guilty as though Rohan might burst in and tell him off.
In the morning Emma woke feeling as though she hardly slept but Nicky was bouncing and happy. “I like Uncle Ro’s bed, Mummy. It’s squishy.”
“Mmnnnn.” Emma was uncommunicative, pressing her face into her husband’s pillow and pleading with a God who really didn’t seem to like her very much. She contemplated telling Nicky the truth about his father but Rohan said they would do it together, which meant he would return. He had to.
For the next three weeks, Emma drove her son to school in the huge car, often going for a drive afterwards. Rohan’s house seemed strange without him and she avoided going back to it, exploring the local area in snow, rain and hail from the safety of the vehicle. The surrounding countryside was beautiful; green rolling hills and gentle undulating slopes. Driving out towards Northampton in the first week, Emma chanced upon a layby just past the border sign and parked for a while. On a hill to the left of her sat a red brick manor house with sandstone detail. It was a beautiful piece of architecture but looked run down and spoiled by neglect. Black empty windows blinked back at her and Emma imagined what it would be like to be the lady of such a manor, holding court in her morning room and drinking tea from a delicate china cup. The history of the place called to her and she felt drawn to it, time and time again.
In the middle of the third week, Emma left Nicky at school and drove towards the layby as usual, a wad of drawing paper on the passenger seat. The proportions of the building appeared to predate the Norman Conque
st in 1066 and it interested the historian in her. Without access to a camera, Emma decided to sketch it and then get Nicky to help her search on Rohan’s computer for details. A dull metal sign on the locked gate gave the name of the house and although the Verdigris staining made it unreadable, she wondered if rubbing one of Nicky’s pencils across the paper might leave an impression and give her a clue.
Emma felt a skip of excitement as she crossed the border from Leicestershire into the county of Northamptonshire. It was good to have something to do apart from housework and worrying about Rohan. To her dismay, the layby was full. Even the grass verge either side of the concrete area was filled bumper to bumper with vehicles. Emma cruised by slowly, her brow furrowed with disappointment as she searched for somewhere to pull over and allow the cars behind her to pass. She thumped the vehicle wonkily onto the verge and put the handbrake on, wincing at the ratcheting sound it made as she forgot to press the button first. Within seconds, four more cars pulled up in front of her. Emma sighed with defeat and reached across for the drawing pad and soft lead pencil. She emerged from her vehicle and the wind whipped the first few pages off the pad and hurled them up the road.
“Oopsie!” a smartly dressed woman cried, lurching for one of the sheets and missing. “Bad luck. It’s so windy up here, isn’t it?” Emma smiled wanly as the woman drew level with her, feeling stupid with the pencil clutched between her fingers. “Jade.” The woman stuck a manicured hand out towards Emma and she stared at it gormlessly.
“Oh, sorry.” Realising she was meant to shake the proffered hand, Emma clasped the warm fingers and smiled.
“Come on then, best get in,” Jade said, setting off towards the driveway to the old house, her boot heels making sucking noises as they sunk into the grass verge. Emma shoved the pad and pencil back into the car and locked it up, hurrying after the determined woman.
“What’s happening?” she asked, puffing up behind her.
“Oh, aren’t you here for the auction?” Jade replied, stopping and staring at Emma differently. She took in Emma’s man-sized jacket and the frayed bottoms of her jeans and took a step back, distancing herself. “I guess you’re not then.”
“Are they selling the house?” Emma struggled to banish the sadness from her voice.
Jade shook her head. “Just contents. Must dash!” She clopped towards the gates, leaving Emma shivering on the verge. As another group of eager purchasers swarmed past Emma, she made a foolish decision and tagged onto the back of a family group, sticking close, hands in pockets and head down against the cold wind. The open gates were blocked to all but pedestrians by four large red orange and white cones, explaining the cars lined up on the verge. The group trudged up a long, tree lined driveway, wide enough for two cars to pass with room to spare. The crowd continued to swell and by the time they reached the top of the driveway and headed towards the open front doors, Emma felt increasingly uncomfortable.
“How did you hear about it?” an elderly lady asked Emma, leaning into her face and smiling sweetly as they formed an orderly queue. “The auction, dear. Was it the papers?” She qualified her question in response to Emma’s obvious confusion.
“Oh, somebody told me,” Emma replied, noticing Jade moving slowly ahead in her high heels. She grimaced, wishing she could telepathically trip the snobby woman up. Instead, she focussed her attention on the lady next to her. “What do you know about this house?” Emma asked. “I love history and I’m really interested.”
The woman fixed a beatific smile on Emma. “Oh that’s marvellous, dear. I’m a local historian. I’m not here to buy anything. My mother was in service here as a very young girl between the wars. I visited many times as a child. After she left service, Mother continued taking in washing and ironing for the lady of the house and we called here once a week on the horse and trap.” The lady squeezed her wrinkled face into the sweetest smile. “I’m so excited to see inside again.” She did a tiny skip which almost overbalanced her and Emma giggled as she caught her arm.
“Oh, that’s so wonderful.” Emma’s brown eyes lit with happiness as the old lady’s enthusiasm touched something in her and she felt excited too. The long queue snaked towards the front steps.
“I’m Freda,” the old lady said, patting Emma’s elbow and fixing strong, watery blue eyes on her. Emma returned the greeting and they chatted like old friends as Freda regaled her with stories from the servants’ quarters below stairs. “The old kitchen’s long gone now,” Freda said, shouting as she adjusted her hearing aid. “It was at the north end of the house under the existing kitchen. Mother and I used to use the back stairs to the first floor laundry. We packed everything up into baskets, even the master’s underwear...” Freda gave a high pitched giggle which drew attention from those around and Emma sniggered.
“Oh, that’s so radical! Promise me, you’ll walk around with me and tell me everything?”
Freda bounced on the spot and gave Emma a cute smile during which her top set of false teeth crashed down onto her bottoms. Emma giggled. “This is turning into the best day.” She linked her arm through the old lady’s and they snuggled close in the plummeting temperatures.
The queue up ahead began to grow disquiet and the mood seemed to drop along with the centigrade as people filed back past them looking unhappy. “What’s going on?” someone called from behind Emma and Jade turned to answer them.
“It seems to be by invite only. Or you needed to register as a buyer, days ago. My husband registered me.” The confidence waned a little from her formerly buoyant self, although she scraped her stiletto heels on the gravel and tossed her hair, giving an illusion of superiority.
“Do you have an invite?” Emma asked Freda and the old lady looked sad, shaking her head and making her hat wobble on her head. “Maybe we should just leave,” Emma whispered. “We could go to my house for coffee?”
“Oh, no dear. I want to go in.” Freda turned wide, tearful eyes on Emma and she gulped, wondering at what point Freda would realise it wasn’t going to happen. Emma clutched the frail arm to her side and felt the carefree sense of fun dissipate. She peered in the windows at the front of the house, seeing flaking, white painted shutters, tired decor and period architecture she would never see up close. Emma’s body tensed as she waited to join the other dissatisfied visitors in the ultimate humiliation, as they tramped back down the long driveway in disappointment.
The biggest shock came when Jade was turned away by a man with a black mackintosh over his pinstriped suit. He shivered in the cold, examining names written on a clipboard. “I’m sorry, madam. You’re name isn’t on the list. You can’t have expressed your interest as a buyer.”
“But I did!” Jade argued, her voice shrill with indignation. “My husband declared our interest with the executors last week. I want that Queen Anne chair!”
“I’m sorry, madam. You’re name’s not here. Please make your way back down the driveway.”
Emma gulped. If the rich and famous weren’t being allowed access, what hope was there for the poor and elderly? She gripped Freda’s arm and received a beautiful grin in return. Rohan had some loose change in his ashtray and Emma wondered if Freda would be mollified by a cup of tea in town. She thought Nicky might have used the last of the milk at home. She braced herself for the lady’s disappointment when they were inevitably turned away.
A few more people were admitted entrance and Emma and Freda shuffled forwards, entertained by Jade who made a loud phone call on her mobile and berated the doormen in hysterical tones. “But you promised you’d talk to them, Peter!” she screeched down the handset at her unfortunate husband, who presumably took the call at work whilst trying to fund her lifestyle. Two men in jeans and jackets were granted entry and handed brochures of the items for sale and then Emma and her new friend faced the smartly dressed businessmen at the door.
“Name, madam,” one of them said, directing his question at Emma.
Freda fiddled with her hearing aid whilst shouting, ?
??Pardon?” The device behind her left ear made a loud squealing sound which was so piercing it had to be up there with supersonic.
Emma stuck her finger in her ear and whispered her name. “Emma Andreyev.” As her married name rolled off her tongue it shocked her, unfamiliar even though it was hers. Emma’s face registered surprise at the unpremeditated action. She hadn’t known what would come out of her mouth and it rocked her.
The man nodded politely and then looked pointedly at Freda. Emma waited for the hatchet to fall and to be ordered off the premises, dragging the little old lady behind her under Jade’s satisfied scrutiny. “Name, madam? Are you with Mrs Andreyev?”
“Yes,” Emma said quickly, laying familial claim to the entertaining pensioner.
“I used to come here when I was a little girl, young man,” Freda giggled, her hearing aid making a din louder than the incoming Arctic breeze. “My mother was a lady’s maid for the eldest Ayers girl until she had me at sixteen.” She leaned in to the man’s chest and whispered to his neat shirt buttons. “My father was the wayward son and Lady Ayers always took a very special interest in me.” She tapped the side of her nose. “Everything was kept quiet in those days but my mother had an annual allowance until the day she died.”
Emma gasped at the intrigue in the sad little story. She put her arm around the elderly lady next to her and stared at the fluffy white hair peeking out from under a knitted hat. The man smiled and held two neat brochures in his hand. “Go on through ladies and take a look around. The auction begins at ten o’clock sharp. Please help your grandmother on all the stairs, Mrs Andreyev.” He looked pointedly at Emma. “They’re quite unforgiving.” He flashed extremely white teeth at them both and Emma gaped for a moment at his assumption of her married status.
“Come on, dear.” Freda tugged at Emma’s arm and looked at her expectantly. With a bemused look at Jade, still posturing around on the gravel behind her, Emma walked past the two men and into the peace of the imposing house.