Emma’s Secret (21 page)

He had been at once chagrined, had rushed to pick her up, looking scared and worried. The result of the fall had been her heavily bruised shoulder and upper arm, which her mother had looked at yesterday, appalled, and concerned.

This was the first time her husband had gone for her in that way during their entire marriage, and she had been shaken to the core and mentally thrown off balance. Mark had a quirky personality which seemed to be coming to the fore more and more. He was not the easiest of men, but he had never displayed the slightest hint of violence in the past.

Now she contemplated the events of the night before. He might well have become really violent if she had not remained calm and in control of herself, and if little Adele had not walked into the breakfast area precisely when she did. The unexpected appearance of his adored child had evidently brought him to his senses; certainly it had pulled him up short, prevented possible mayhem.

Tessa was certain he had been drinking earlier in the evening, and also convinced he was on something else as well, some sort of designer drug, perhaps. He was definitely
off,
not himself in a variety of ways, and this had unsettled her. Normally he held his drink extremely well, which is why she had become so alarmed at his erratic behaviour. His eyes were glassy, actually glazed over, and he had gone through several mood swings in a very short period of time. Last night she had seen a whole new Mark.

She would have to ask Toby about drugs. As a high-powered media executive running a television network, he probably knew quite a lot about them, and if
he
didn’t, Gideon surely would. She knew that neither of her cousins would go anywhere near drugs. They had always needed to be in control, of themselves and others, and anyway they were too ambitious, driven and work-oriented to indulge in substances of oblivion. But in their line of business they would have a certain amount of information at their disposal.

She wondered, suddenly, if she ought to confide in Toby, after all. He was the closest to her, except for Lorne…but
they
were tight because they were twins, and Lorne might easily tell their mother about Mark and how he was behaving if she took him into her confidence. A still tongue, a wise head: that had been her motto for years. Tell no one…

Little Adele murmured in her sleep, and turned over restlessly, and Tessa threw off the duvet, swung her feet to the floor and almost stepped on the mobile phone which must have fallen out of her hand during the night.

After looking down at Adele, smoothing her hair gently from her face, smiling with pleasure, and filled with love for this gorgeous child of hers, Tessa covered her with the eiderdown then stepped across the room.

Unlocking the door, she went along the corridor, being scrupulously careful not to make a noise. It was unusually quiet. Glancing at her watch, she saw that it was just a few minutes past six.

Moving carefully, Tessa paused at their bedroom door, opened it gently, and looked inside. Mark was still passed out on top of their bed, sprawled diagonally across it, almost in the same position as last night. Hardly daring to breathe, she closed the door as quietly as possible and continued down the corridor to her own suite.

This was a set of private rooms she had insisted on designing herself. She had fought Mark about it, finally winning. It consisted of a fully equipped office, a small gym, a large and luxurious bathroom, plus a huge dressing room where her clothes hung in well-organized perfection. Also housed there were her shoes, handbags, scarves, shawls, and other accessories. It was her private domain and it gave her a great deal of pleasure; she loved to have everything neat, orderly, and scrupulously arranged, being a perfectionist in all things.

After a quick shower, Tessa blow-dried her hair and then sat down at the dressing table to put on make-up. A short while later she went to one of the closets and selected a tailored grey pin-stripe suit and a pale blue man-tailored cotton shirt. Within minutes she was hurrying downstairs to the kitchen. After putting on the coffee, she quickly stacked the dishwasher with a few remaining items from last night’s cooking, turned it on, threw out the
coq au vin,
which had congealed overnight, and then made herself a slice of toast.

She was halfway through her first cup of coffee when Mark suddenly appeared in the kitchen. His blondish-brown hair was still damp from the shower, and he was freshly shaved, dressed in a white shirt, which was open at the neck, and dark blue trousers. He carried the jacket of his suit and a dark blue tie as well.

He hesitated fractionally when he saw her, his step seeming to falter, and then he recouped and came towards her, a feeble smile playing on his face.

After putting the jacket and tie on one of the stools at the island counter, he came around to her side, and stood looking down at her, forcing the smile to become a little wider. ‘Good morning.’

When there was no response from her, he said in a low, contrite voice, ‘I’m sorry, Tessa darling. I can’t remember exactly what happened last night, but when I woke up not long ago I realized I’d probably behaved badly.’

Still she remained silent.

He stared at her, all of his attention on her. ‘I did, didn’t I? Behave badly, I mean. Please tell me what happened? I’m so troubled…we had a row, didn’t we?’

‘No, we didn’t,’ she said, speaking at last, levelling her steady gaze at him, her face icy cold, her eyes the colour of steel.

‘Oh,’
was all he could say, obviously taken aback. He moved away, went and poured himself a cup of coffee, and carried the mug back to the island. He stood next to her, drinking it. After a split second, he murmured, ‘I thought we’d had a quarrel, because I found myself on top of the bed, almost fully dressed, and obviously the bed hadn’t been slept in…and you were gone.’

‘Only too true.’ Tessa let out a sigh. ‘However, we didn’t have a row, Mark, but you did behave very badly indeed. You came home in an extremely belligerent mood, and tried to pick a fight. Your behaviour was extraordinary, very strange, in fact, and I thought you were not only drunk but
on
something. You were, weren’t you?’

He shook his head vehemently. ‘No, no, not at all. I’d had a couple of drinks, that’s true, but if you’re implying I’d taken drugs, or some kind of…
substance,
then you’re totally mistaken.
Totally.’

‘But there
was
something terribly wrong with you! Your eyes were glazed over and your manner was most erratic’ Deciding to let him have all the gory details, she told him everything that had happened the night before. And when it came to his physical attack on her, how he had held her neck in a vice-like grip when she was on the floor, she pulled no punches.

It was quite apparent to Tessa that he remembered bits and pieces, because he nodded his head several times, obviously recalling certain things but not others.

His shame and remorse hung heavy on him. ‘Oh my god! Tessa, I’m so sorry, so terribly sorry. All I can think of is that I took some cold pills on the train. Perhaps they had a bad effect on me, especially since I did have a few drinks afterwards. You see, I thought I was coming down with the flu, and I bought some cold pills at the station…swilled them down with Scotch. It was stupid.
I was stupid.’

Although he was obviously upset and ashamed, and wanted to make amends to her, Tessa instinctively knew that he was lying. About the cold pills, at least. It was such a phony story it took all her self-control not to laugh out loud. But she remained absolutely cool, and unresponsive to his protestations of innocence and his sudden abundance of contrition.

‘Who did you meet yesterday?’ she asked after a few sips of coffee. She stared at him over the rim of the mug, her silvery-grey eyes penetrating, challenging.

‘I told you, darling. A client.’ Mark went and sat down opposite her and put the coffee mug on the countertop.

‘But you didn’t say who the client is. What’s his name?’ she pressed.

‘Oh, I thought I told you before. His name is William Stone, and he’s apparently filthy rich. I’ve designed a house for him…he calls it the house of his dreams.’

‘And where is this dream house?’

‘In the Midlands. I thought I’d told you that.’ He frowned at her.

‘Did you drink with him before you left? Maybe that would explain your disastrous condition.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘If you drank with your Mr. Stone and then drank on the train, maybe you were drunker than you realized.’

‘Possibly.’ He shook his head, and leaned across the counter, taking her hand in his. ‘Listen, Tessa, I’m truly sorry. This whole thing has been painful, very painful indeed, for me to listen to. Please, darling, say you accept my apology. I promise it won’t happen again. You know I adore you. Upsetting you is the last thing I want to do. I love you, Tessa.’

She stared into his face, remained absolutely silent. Despite his bloodshot eyes he looked surprisingly boyish this morning. Perhaps it was the pink flush on his cheeks or maybe his open shirt, but he did look young and appealing. It had always been part of his charm, that collegiate look of his, and his sincerity. Although she was never quite sure if that was really genuine; sometimes it struck her that it was entirely fraudulent.

Finally nodding her head slowly, Tessa said, ‘I forgive you, Mark.’ But will I ever forget? she asked herself, and then to him, she added, ‘But it can’t happen again. If you ever become physically violent with me, as you did last night, I’ll leave you. Divorce you. I won’t stand for that, you know. And neither will Paula and Shane.’ She had thrown their names into the mix just to remind him of exactly who she was, and who it was that stood behind her. If nothing else, he understood the meaning of money and power, of immense clout, as he usually referred to it.

Mark smiled in relief, and reached out. He took her hand again, brought it to his mouth, kissed her fingers. ‘I’m truly, truly sorry. And it will never,
ever
happen again, I promise you, Tessa.’ His eyes did not leave her face, as he added, ‘I’m so utterly ashamed of myself. Contrite.’

The sound of the key in the back door made them both sit up a little straighter, and Tessa exclaimed, ‘Oh it’s Mrs. Jolles. Elvira asked her to come in early today.’

‘Why’s that?’ Mark asked, frowning.

‘Because I have to go to work, and so do you, and Elvira had to go home last night to look after her mother.’

‘What happened to Mrs. Wilson?’

‘She broke her arm and a leg. Fell off a ladder, apparently.’

‘Oh dear,’ Mark raised his eyes to the ceiling and rolled them in mock horror.

‘Good morning, Mrs. Jolles,’ Tessa said, turning around. ‘Thanks so much for coming in at the crack of dawn.’

‘’Morning all,’ Mrs. Jolles answered in her bright and cheerful voice. ‘Don’t disturb yourselves; finish your breakfasts. I’ll go and see to Adele.’

C
HAPTER
N
INETEEN

G
ideon sat waiting for Evan in the large sitting room of the small hotel in Belgravia where she lived. From the moment he had walked in he had been struck by the decor, the refinement and good taste that abounded in the entrance hall and here.

Now, as he sat on the sofa near the fire, he glanced around, thinking how charming and well appointed the sitting room was. There were some lovely landscapes on the walls, and the entire ambiance was pleasant and restful.

Gideon sighed and stretched out his long legs. He was feeling a little weary today. It had been a trying week, and he had been burdened by so many different problems at the newspaper. The only good thing was that Christian Palmer was becoming more amenable about working for the
London Evening Post
again. It was all a question of negotiation, and settling the problems of the time off which Christian needed. His book was practically finished, and after that he would be at liberty to work for them. Possibly it would have to be part time, but Gideon and his father knew this was better than not having him on board at all.

His thoughts turned to Evan. She was such a special young woman he could hardly believe his luck. That he had found her was something of a miracle to him. He had fallen heavily, and he knew she had too; he had laughed the other day when she had called their coming together a
coup de foudre,
because he had thought the same thing earlier. When he had told her this she too had been amused. ‘Well, great minds think alike,’ he had murmured, squeezing her hand. She was not only lovely to look at but charming, and bright and intelligent, and they always had fun together. He never felt bored with her, as he had with so many other women; they were compatible on every level.

There was one thing that worried him about her and this was her occasional sadness. It seemed to him that a strange melancholy overtook her at times, and he couldn’t help asking himself what caused that sudden change in her. Though they had not discussed it, Gideon thought it had nothing to do with them, but sprang from another area of her life.

A moment later she was walking into the sitting room, her face full of smiles, her cheeks dimpling prettily as the smile grew wider.

Gideon jumped to his feet as she stopped. She kissed him on his cheek, and then said, ‘I’m sorry I kept you waiting. I was late at the store.’

‘That cousin of mine is a genuine slave-driver!’ he murmured, squeezing her arm.

‘She is a bit, but I don’t mind,’ Evan replied. ‘I’m inclined to be a workaholic, as you well know. I’m late because I decided to change after all, even though you said it didn’t matter.’

He smiled, glanced at her appraisingly. ‘You look wonderful, but then you always do. Come on, I’m starving, I can’t wait to get a knife and fork into some wonderful roast lamb.’

‘Where are you taking me?’ Evan asked as he led her out of the sitting room, through the hall and out into the street.

‘The Dorchester. They have the best roast leg of lamb and roast beef in London.’ Gideon raised his hand, flagged down a taxi, and helped her in. After giving the cabbie the name of the hotel, he took her hand in his and kissed it. ‘I’ve missed you.’

Evan turned to him, raising a dark brow. ‘But you saw me yesterday.’

‘I know. But I’ve still missed you in the meantime.’

Smiling to herself, she leaned back against the leather seat, wondering if she should tell him she had missed him too. She missed him whenever they were not together; it was, in fact, a state of affairs that was entirely new to her. But she remained silent.

Within a few minutes they were pulling up in front of the hotel, and the doorman, dressed in green with a tall hat, was opening the cab door and helping her out. ‘Evening, madame,’ he said in a friendly voice.

‘Good evening,’ Evan answered, and went up the steps, stood waiting for Gideon as he paid for the taxi.

Inside the hotel, he guided her to the cloakroom, and once they had checked their coats they went across the hall to the Grill Room. Instantly, they were seated, and Gideon looked at her and asked, ‘What would you like to drink?’

‘A glass of white wine would be nice, thank you.’

Beckoning to a waiter, Gideon ordered her a glass of white wine, and a vodka and tonic for himself. When they were alone he confided, ‘I’ve had such a heavy day, I need a good strong drink. But I’m happy to say I think Christian Palmer is now seriously thinking about coming back, if only part time. We’ll be glad to have him.’

‘Oh that’s wonderful. I’m so pleased for you, Gideon. You’ve wanted this so much.’

‘And Dad has, too. We’re kind of chuffed about it…that means, well…
pleased,
in case you didn’t know.’

‘But I did. My grandmother often used it, especially when I was growing up and did something she deemed was wonderful. That’s when she would tell me she was
chuffed.’

Their drinks materialized; Gideon lifted his glass, touched hers, and said cheers. And so did Evan.

The Grill Room was busy tonight. Gideon glanced around, but there was no one there he knew. Turning to Evan, he said, ‘The trolleys over there have the best roasts. Are you going to join me in the roast leg of lamb?’

‘I think I will’

‘And to start?’

‘Oysters.’

‘Snap. I’m having the same.’

Now it was Evan’s turn to look around, taking in the surroundings. She liked this room with its dark wood furniture, large tapestries hanging on the walls, its sense of timelessness, its very Englishness. ‘You come here a lot, don’t you, Gideon?’

‘Yes, I do. I like the English food they serve–the roasts, the wonderful soups, the potted shrimps and the oysters. But quite aside from the food, it’s sort of…well, a family hotel. I don’t mean it belongs to the O’Neill hotel chain that Shane owns and operates, but
family
in the sense that we’ve all favoured the Dorchester for donkeys years.’

‘Oh really, why is that?’

‘From what I understand, it goes back to the years during the Second World War. My great-grandmother used to come here all the time, as did most of the elegant uppercrust Londoners. My father told me that it was considered to be the safest hotel in London because of the way it was built. In any event, she came often, and so did her brothers, and the O’Neills. It’s kind of—’

‘A home away from home,’ she suggested, cutting across him.

‘That’s right,’ he answered with a laugh.

The waiter came and Gideon ordered for them both, and then he turned to Evan and said quietly, ‘There’s something I’ve wanted to talk to you about, Evan, but I haven’t really dared. Now I think we know each other well enough, and it
is
something that troubles me.’

‘But what is it? And of course we can discuss it, Gideon.’ She stared at him intently, a worried expression settling in her eyes, wondering what it was that troubled him. When he remained silent she touched his hand lightly, and said, ‘I’ve felt right from our first date that we could talk about anything, tell each other anything…say what you’re thinking, Gid.’

‘There are times when I seem to lose you, Evan,’ he began, taking her hand in his. ‘What I’m trying to say is that there are occasions when you become pensive, melancholy really, and you seem to drift off to a faraway place. I don’t seem able to reach you for a while. In fact, it’s only when you come out of it that we’re normal again. It
is
troubling, and I was wondering…well, is there something worrying you?’

‘Not about us, or you, if that’s what you mean,’ she was quick to reassure him. Clearing her throat, she added, ‘I do worry about my mother quite a lot. Perhaps that’s what you’re detecting in me.’

‘Possibly.’ He looked puzzled. ‘Why do you worry about your mother? Is there something wrong with her?’

Taking a deep breath, Evan answered, ‘My mother suffers from depression. She’s on medication all the time.’

‘Oh Evan, I’m so sorry,’ he murmured, his voice sympathetic. ‘Is this a recent ailment?’

‘No, Gideon, it isn’t. Mom’s been depressed for as long as I can remember, from when I was a small child. It was after my parents adopted Angharad…that’s when her mood swings began. At least, that’s how I remember it. And that’s why my grandmother, Glynnis, used to come and stay, to look after us, and look after my father. I worry about him a lot too.’

‘I’m sure you do. That kind of illness is hard on a family, as well as on the sufferer.’

‘Do you know something about it?’ she asked.

‘Not really, but I do know a couple of people who are manic depressives, old friends of mine, and of course I’ve read about famous people who were sufferers. Sir Winston Churchill for one. He called his depression Black Dog. He fought against it all of his life…that’s why he had such a rigorous routine, kept himself extremely busy, hoping to sidestep his depression, I guess.’

‘I understand.’ Evan shook her head, looked away for a moment, and then told him in a low, confiding voice, ‘I often worry that I might get to be like my mother…do you think that’s why I keep myself so terribly busy, why I’m a workaholic?’

‘Out of fear?’ he asked. ‘Fear that you might have inherited it, that you might become a depressive too?’

‘Yes.’

Gideon made a face, shook his head. ‘I’ve got to admit I don’t know the answer. But my family are all workaholics, over-achievers, and none of them suffer from depression. I don’t, and I’m just like you when it comes to work.’ He squeezed her hand. ‘Try not to worry so much about your parents. They have each other, and presumably take care of each other. Your mother’s not in hospital, is she?’

‘Oh no, she’s at home. And there are days when she’s much better—’

Evan broke off as the waiter arrived to serve their plates of oysters. When he had done so and they were alone, Evan murmured, ‘I hadn’t realized I was drifting off like that when I was with you, Gid, I’m sorry.’

‘No need to be sorry. Anyway, talking about it has cleared the air. Now that I understand it makes everything easier.’

Between swallowing the delicious Colchester oysters they talked about other things, but at one moment Gideon said, ‘Is Tessa still being difficult with you?’

Evan shook her head. ‘It’s not that she was ever difficult. Well, to be honest, she was a bit uppity. These days she just sort of…ignores me.’ Evan began to laugh. ‘I don’t care. It worries India at times, and Linnet also, but I told them her attitude is not important. I don’t work directly with her. And Linnet and India are both wonderful to me.’

‘I know. Tessa’s like that with everybody. She has a superiority that is most annoying,’ Gideon explained. ‘It doesn’t mean anything, so don’t
personalize
it. Mind you, I bet she’s a bit jealous that Linnet has another assistant.’

‘That’s what India said the other day.’

‘I’m glad you’re enjoying working at Harte’s, enjoying my cousins.’ He grinned at her. ‘They’re the best–kind, loving, nice to be around, aren’t they?’

‘I’ll say! And we have a lot of fun together when we’re working. They’ve made me feel at home. I hope Linnet’s going to keep me on after the retrospective’s finished. It would be hard for me to work anywhere else after being with them at Harte’s.’

‘I’m sure you don’t have to worry,’ Gideon reassured her.