Hold the Dream. Barbara Taylor Bradford

Читать онлайн.
Название Hold the Dream
Автор произведения Barbara Taylor Bradford
Жанр Историческая литература
Серия
Издательство Историческая литература
Год выпуска 0
isbn 9780007363698



Скачать книгу

there was a tap on the door and Emily’s smiling face appeared around it.

      ‘There you are, Grandy. I waited up for you.’

      ‘So I noticed, darling. But you didn’t have to, you know.’

      ‘I wanted to, Gran. But to be honest, I didn’t think you’d be as late as this. It’s turned twelve-thirty!’

      ‘I’m well aware of the time, Emily. And look here, if you’re going to live with me, you mustn’t start monitoring my comings and goings. And I don’t need mothering either. I get enough of that from Paula at the store,’ Emma remarked evenly, putting on her silk dressing gown and knotting the belt.

      Emily giggled and skipped into the room, obviously wide awake and full of her usual joie de vivre. ‘It’s not role reversal, if that’s what you’re thinking. I’m not trying to mother you. I was merely commenting on the time.’

      ‘Just bear in mind what I said.’

      ‘I will, Grandma.’ Emily hovered near the dressing table. She saw the jewellery strewn across it and her eyes darted to Emma’s hand. She noticed the diamond at once, which shone with brilliance in the bright light from the lamps. ‘Aren’t you going to show me Blackie’s ring?’ she asked.

      Emma’s brows shot up. ‘And how did you know about the ring?’ The words had no sooner left her mouth than she wondered why she had even bothered to ask Emily, of all people, such a question.

      ‘Merry and I were Blackie’s conspirators,’ Emily explained. ‘About two weeks ago he asked her to ask me to check your ring size. He thought your fingers might have shrunk.’

      ‘Did he indeed! I’ll have to have a few strong words with him tomorrow. Does he think I’ve turned into a shrivelled up old crone,’ Emma exclaimed pithily.

      Emily could not keep the laughter out of her voice as she said, ‘Nobody would think that about you, Gran, least of all Blackie. You’re still beautiful.’

      ‘No, I’m not. I am an old woman,’ Emma stated flatly. ‘But thank you for being nice, Emily. Of course,’ she added with a laugh, ‘everyone knows you’re prejudiced.’ She held out her left hand. ‘Well, how do you like it?’

      Emily took hold of Emma’s hand, her bright green eyes huge, and as round as saucers, her excitement apparent on her expressive, mobile face. ‘Gosh, Gran, I’d no idea it was going to be so big, and such a beauty! It’s fabulous!’ She scrutinized the ring more closely, and with an expert’s eye, lifted her head and nodded knowingly. ‘It’s a perfect diamond, Gran. I bet it cost a fortune …’ Her voice trailed off and she hesitated, then asked in an uncertain tone, ‘Does this mean you and Blackie are going to get married?’

      Emma burst out laughing and extracted her hand. ‘Of course not, you silly goose. Whatever will you think of next.’ She touched Emily’s face lovingly, ‘You’re such a romantic girl,’ she murmured, sighing softly. ‘No, it wouldn’t be appropriate. Not at our ages. As Blackie said, we’re engaged to be the best of friends for the rest of our lives.’ Emma now became aware of the undisguised curiosity and interest lingering on Emily’s face, and before she could stop herself she said, ‘I’ll tell you the story about the ring, if you like.’

      ‘Oh yes, I’d love to hear it, Grandy. Let’s go to the parlour, though. I have a thermos of hot chocolate waiting for you. Come along.’ She took hold of her grandmother’s arm possessively, and shepherded her next door, not realizing she was fussing and bustling like a mother hen. Emma merely smiled, allowed herself to be bullied, secretly amused.

      After filling two mugs with chocolate and giving one to Emma, Emily curled up on the sofa she had so recently vacated, tucked her feet under her and gleefully snuggled down into the cushions. Lifting her mug she took a sip and cried with delight, ‘This is such fun, it’s like being back at boarding school and having midnight feasts.’

      Emma’s mouth twitched. ‘Don’t get carried away, Emily,’ she laughed. ‘We won’t be doing this every night. I’m usually in bed by this time. And talking of bed, it’s getting very late. I’d better tell you the story quickly, so that we can go to sleep. We have a hectic day tomorrow.’

      ‘Yes, Gran.’ Emily gave her grandmother her rapt attention.

      When the old story was finally told, Emily said, ‘Oh Grandma, that’s so lovely and touching, and a little sad in a way. And imagine him keeping the ring all these years. Gosh, that’s real devotion.’ A wistful look swept across her delicately pretty face and she shook her head. ‘And you’re sceptical about unrequited love! This should prove you’re absolutely wrong.’

      Emma smiled indulgently, made no comment.

      Brightening, Emily rushed on in her breathy voice, ‘Just think, if you’d married Blackie instead of Awful Arthur all those years ago, your children would have been very different – it’s all a matter of genes, you know. I wonder if the oldies would have been any nicer?’ Emily tilted her head and pursed her lips, lost in thought, her mind racing. Several things occurred to her all at once, and she burst out, ‘What about your grandchildren? Paula, for instance. And me. Goodness, Grandy, I might not have been me at all. I could have been someone altogether different …’

      Emma cut in, ‘But I would have loved you just as much, Emily, and Paula too.’

      ‘Oh yes, of course you would, I know that. But your family would have been very – ’

      ‘Now you’re speculating about things we’ll never know. And it’s all much too complicated for me, especially at this hour,’ Emma said with a dismissive yet kindly smile. ‘But speaking of my family, what happened here this evening? How was the dinner party?’

      Instantly Emily’s face underwent a change, became serious as she sat up abruptly, swung her feet to the floor, and leaned closer to Emma. Her manner was confiding as she said, ‘You’re not going to believe this, but Edwina’s behaviour was quite extraordinary – ’

      ‘In what way?’ Emma asked sharply, dreading the worst.

      Seeing the apprehensive expression settling on her grandmother’s face, Emily shook her head with some vehemence. ‘Don’t look like that. It was all right. Edwina was nice … so nice I couldn’t get over it, and neither could Paula. The Dowager Countess was charm personified. Well, that’s not strictly true.’ Emily made a moue. ‘You know I have a tendency to exaggerate.’ Emily wrinkled her nose, went on, ‘She was sort of … cautious with Paula and me. She doesn’t really like us. She was polite, though, and pleasant to everyone else. I can’t imagine what you said to her earlier, Grandma, but it certainly had a drastic effect on her.’ Emily searched Emma’s face and probed, ‘You must have given her an awful lecture. You did, didn’t you?’ A blonde brow lifted quizzically.

      Emma said nothing.

      Emily volunteered, ‘I think Aunt Edwina had been crying before she came down for drinks. Her eyes were puffy and red, and so was her nose. She didn’t want a drink. She asked me for aspirins and a glass of water. We’d only been alone together for a couple of minutes when Paula and Jim arrived with Aunt Daisy and Uncle David. Edwina attached herself to Daisy immediately – it’s funny, she seems to have a thing about Daisy. Anyway, she didn’t say much to anyone else, not even Jim, during cocktails.’ Emily’s shoulders hunched in a small off-handed shrug. ‘I thought she seemed ever so subdued, and she was certainly abstemious. You know how incorrigible she and Mummy are, always tippling. They never know when they’ve had enough. Edwina didn’t touch a drop all night, though, not even wine with dinner.’ Flopping back against the cushions, regarding Emma more closely, she pressed, ‘What actually did you say to her, Gran?’

      ‘Now, Emily, don’t be so nosy. That’s a private matter between Edwina and me. Anyway, it’s not important. What matters is that my words penetrated. Perhaps I drilled some sense into her after all.’

      ‘Oh