by Talli Roland
‘How does he plan to convince the board to turn it down?’ Emma asked.
‘Well, the first step is me returning as VP to show we have a strategy in place to transition leadership. It’s only a token gesture, a way to show things are stable,’ Will responded. ‘One of the board’s big issues is the company’s survival once Dad retires. He’s held the reins tightly, and I reckon they think it’s easier to sell the company than take a chance on someone new.’
‘And you think going back will work?’ Will could see the worry in Emma’s face. ‘I mean, won’t they need more than your presence? If sales are falling, they might want to see a plan to meet higher targets.’
Will’s heart dropped. She was right, of course. He hadn’t taken the time to think things through. If his dad wanted to keep the business under his own name, then the prodigal son returning wouldn’t be enough—not by a long shot. It wasn’t as if he’d shown much brilliance in the time he’d been there, despite pleas to his father to let him develop new ranges. Why would the board happily pass on an opportunity to make a sizeable chunk of money just because Will was still around? They’d need something solid—something to show Ballard Paints was moving into the twenty-first century, with the sales to prove it.
Will thought of all the ideas he’d had for colours—and of the vibrant shades swirling around his mind after yesterday’s exploration of Dubrovnik. Terracotta; that blue he’d worked up for Emma; the crimson of the geraniums and the deep grey of the cliff…new and bold, those were the kind of colours that would sell, he knew it instinctively.
‘Hmm. It’d be easy enough to put together a paint line,’ he said as they got off the ferry in Dubrovnik. They walked towards the queue of cabs to find one to take them to the airport. ‘The real challenge would be everything that goes along with it. To show a range to its best advantage, you need to stage a few rooms. Right now, our props are better suited to the Edwardian period.’ Will made a face. ‘We wouldn’t have to go all out, but we’d need to do enough to show the board we have some ideas. And we’d need to do it fast.’
‘I can help with the staging,’ Emma said eagerly. ‘I mean, I’m not a professional, but I’m sure I could create something different and modern. Of course I completely understand if you want to hire someone who’s trained in it.’
Will’s heart lifted as he met her gaze, his mind’s eye flipping back to the sketches in Emma’s notepad. Those quirky, whimsical interiors were the perfect backdrops for Ballard Paints to stand out. Customers didn’t buy into the shade of paint; they bought into the vision the paint represented. And Emma’s rooms were irresistible—just what they needed to convince the board Ballard was on the right track.
‘That would be brilliant,’ Will said. ‘But are you sure you have time? We’ll have to move quickly once we get back.’
Emma shrugged. ‘It shouldn’t be a problem. Work slows down around Christmas anyway, and these days I’m out of there by five at the latest. I’ll have plenty of time in the evening.’
‘Fantastic. I’ll talk to my father tomorrow, and then I’ll start on the colour swatches.’ Will quickly explained his initial thoughts on the shades, noticing Emma’s eyes light up as he included her blue. ‘Once you get some sketches underway, we can review them and start sourcing materials for the photo shoot. If we work fast, we might be able to have something knocked up by next week.’ Hope and excitement rose inside. Together, they’d create a vision the board couldn’t refuse. He was itching to get back now. But would his dad welcome him with open arms? A thread of doubt worked its way into him as Will recalled the distance in his father’s voice the last time they’d spoken. Hopefully, it wasn’t too late.
The taxi pulled up to the Dubrovnik airport, and Will grinned at Emma. ‘London, here we come,’ he said, leaning over to kiss her soft cheek.
Five hours later, though, they were still crammed into the miniscule airport waiting area. According to the little they deciphered from the nasal announcements, London was experiencing a rare snowstorm which had shut down each and every one of its airports until further notice. Nothing was flying in or out of the city.
‘Should we find a hotel?’ Emma asked, her head cradled against Will’s chest. ‘It’s almost midnight, and I don’t think we’re going anywhere soon.’ As long as they got to London in time for Meg’s concert, though, she didn’t care how much they were delayed.
Will reached up to stroke her hair. ‘We’d better stay put just in case. They’ll give us an update shortly, I’m sure.’
‘I hope so.’ Emma sighed. Her mobile buzzed, and she rummaged through her bag to uncover it. ‘Hello?’
‘Emma! Where are you? I thought we were having drinks tonight.’ Alice’s irritation was only too clear, and Emma cringed. With everything that had happened, she’d completely forgotten to call and cancel.
‘I’m in Croatia,’ she said, a grin spreading on her face. God, Alice would never believe it.
‘Croatia!’ Alice cried. ‘What the hell are you doing there?’
Emma let out a puff of air, thinking of all the events that had led her here. Lou, the conversation with her mum… ‘I came to find Will,’ she responded finally.
Silence echoed across the line. ‘And did you?’ Emma sensed the trepidation in her friend’s voice.
Her grin widened. ‘Did I ever.’
Alice let out a shriek, and Emma held the phone away from her ear. ‘I knew it! I knew if you found him, you’d be able to sort out everything.’
‘And you were right,’ Emma said, so glad her friend had been. ‘Listen, I’ll be back in London soon.’ She hoped, anyway. ‘I’ll call you later, okay?’
‘Okay,’ Alice responded grudgingly. ‘Because I want to know everything. And I do mean everything.’
Emma laughed. ‘Well, I can’t promise you everything, but I can tell you this much: it’s all good.’ And as she hung up, she realised despite the unknowns lying ahead, it really was.
CHAPTER THIRTY
‘Please return your tables and chairs to the upright position in preparation for our arrival in London,’ the flight attendant droned as the plane circled the dark sky above Heathrow for what felt like the millionth time. The flight had finally left Dubrovnik late Monday afternoon, and they’d been hovering over the airport for almost fifteen minutes.
Emma sighed, not sure how much more she could take. At first, the plane had been put off until this morning, and she and Will had bedded down for the night in a corner of the airport lounge. Then, as light had filtered through the windows, the loudspeaker announced they wouldn’t be leaving until five o’clock—and with the time difference, they likely wouldn’t arrive in Heathrow until around six thirty. And Meg’s concert started at seven!
Thankfully, the school in Virginia Water wasn’t far from the airport, but with the snowfall, finding a taxi would be murder. Emma had tried to call her mother all day to say she’d do everything possible to get to the concert before the end. Typically, though, her mum had forgotten to switch on the mobile, and Emma hadn’t even been able to leave a voice mail. She’d rung and rung the landline, but no one picked up.
‘There’s still a chance we’ll make it,’ Will said, as Emma looked at her watch for the umpteenth time. ‘We haven’t checked any bags, so once we get through passport control, we can grab a cab and go straight to the school.’
‘Fingers crossed.’ She couldn’t bear to think of the disappointment in both Meg’s and her mother’s eyes at her absence. It was quarter to seven now, and catching the start of the concert was out of the question, but they might reach the school before it finished. Switching on her mobile as the plane taxied towards its stand, Emma noticed a voice mail had come through.
‘Emma, it’s your mother.’ Her mum’s tone was strained, as if she was trying to hold back emotions. ‘I’m at the school. Meg’s refusing to go on unless you’re here. In fact, she’s in p
ieces. I hope you’re on your way.’ The line clicked off, and Emma stared at the phone.
Oh, God. Her mum probably thought Emma had defaulted to her usual position: busy with work. Not that Emma could blame her. In the past, work was the excuse she’d trot out time and again to avoid family interaction. How ironic she was late now because she’d been following her heart.
‘Everything okay?’ Will asked, and Emma realised she’d been clutching the phone so tightly, her knuckles were white.
‘Meg’s upset I’m not there.’ Emma swallowed hard at the thought of her little sister’s excitement replaced by hurt and dismay. ‘Mum says she’s refusing to join her class onstage. I promised I’d watch her, you know?’ Emma shook her head. ‘The thing is, I haven’t been around a lot. For family stuff, I mean. Ever since my father died and Mum remarried, I just thought it was better if I went my own way.’
Will squeezed her hand. ‘We’ll run once we’re out of here. We’ll make it, I’m sure.’ His voice rang with determination.
Emma nodded, praying he was right. Twenty minutes later, they were hurrying down Heathrow’s endless corridors, through the mercifully half-empty immigration queues, and out into the pollution-scented air. Shivering, Emma shrugged on her coat, noticing tiny snowflakes glistening in the light of the fluorescent streetlamps.
‘Things must be working in our favour tonight.’ Will smiled, pointing to a queue of waiting taxis.
‘Thank God.’ Emma felt a bit of tension ease as they climbed into a roomy, warm cab and it pulled away, navigating the maze of airport roads on the way to Meg’s school. She glanced at her watch—quarter to eight. The concert had been underway for forty-five minutes now. Had Meg’s class performed yet? How long did these things go for, anyway? She cast her mind back to her own school days, but the concerts were a blur of packed gymnasiums, excited kids, and her parents’ smiling faces. A pang of grief hit as she thought of her father’s proud expression and how he always said she was the best one up there.
Glancing over at Will, Emma noticed his heaving chest and the sweat beading on his brow. The rush through the airport had taken its toll. She reached over and grasped his hand, and he smiled tiredly. When this concert was over, she’d settle him into bed on the boat and let him rest. Tomorrow, they had another battle to face when it came to saving his dad’s company, a fight they’d take on together. A warm feeling flooded into her.
The taxi crawled over snow-covered roads, the driver swearing periodically as the wheels slipped sideways or the car skidded. Thank God, these London cabs weigh a ton, Emma thought, or we’d be in the ditch by now. Outside, the landscape was magical and strange, shrouded in white. It was as if they’d overshot London, landing in a pristine place without the grit and grime of the city.
Finally, the car pulled into the narrow lane leading to Meg’s school and then rolled to a stop.
‘Here you are.’ The driver sounded relieved they’d made it in one piece.
Will thrust a handful of notes at the cabbie, then tugged Emma from the car. ‘Thank you!’ he said, waving as they scurried towards the main entrance of the school. The whole building glowed, yellow light emanating from its windows. Framed on either side by large trees gilded in white, the scene was like a Christmas card.
They ran up the stone steps and into the empty foyer, following the sound of singing and piano music down the corridor. Will swung open the door to the auditorium, and they tiptoed inside just as one class—thankfully much older than Meg’s—filed off the stage. Emma scanned the room frantically. Would her mother be here? Or was she backstage somewhere with Meg?
In the dim light, Emma picked out Andrew’s broad shoulders, and she inched up the aisle towards him. Spotting Emma’s torturous tiptoe, he rose to his feet and clambered her way, gesturing towards the door. The three of them hurried back up the aisle and into the silence of the foyer.
‘I’m sorry, Andrew, I—’
‘Tell me later,’ Andrew interrupted, but his voice was gentle. ‘I’m just glad you’re here. Meg and your mother are in the first classroom to the right. Hurry; I think her class is due on after the next one.’ He turned to smile at Will. ‘Come on—you might as well suffer with me. We can catch up on introductions afterwards.’
Will shot her an encouraging look, then disappeared into the auditorium with Andrew. Emma flew down the corridor and into the chaos of the classroom, heaving with excited seven-year-olds clad in the most elaborate outfits she’d ever seen. At her school nativity play, even wearing a bit of tatty garland was special. These costumes looked couture!
Where was Meg? Emma’s eyes swept the rows of angels, shepherds, and—oddly—multiple Marys until they came to rest on a huddled form in the corner. Her mum was hunched over the forlorn star, patting her back comfortingly.
Emma picked her way between the kids now being corralled into a queue, ready to head onstage for their performance. ‘Meg!’
Her mum glanced up, her features sagging in relief. ‘Oh, thank God. Look, Meg, your sister made it!’
Meg’s tear-streaked face turned towards Emma, and Emma’s heart squeezed as she took in her sister’s flushed cheeks, framed by the vivid yellow star costume. Who’d have guessed she could impact Meg so much? From this moment on, Emma vowed to be a vital part of her sister’s life.
‘You’re here!’ Meg threw her arms around Emma.
‘I wouldn’t have missed it for anything.’ Emma tapped her sister’s nose. ‘Now, are you ready for your big performance? I can’t wait to watch you. You’d better get in the queue!’ She gestured towards the line of children, and Meg nodded, then skipped over, excitedly chattering and pointing at Emma. God, it was amazing how quickly she’d recovered. If only adults were as resilient.
‘I’m sorry, Mum,’ Emma said as her mother sank into a tiny desk. ‘I tried to ring all day to say I was stuck in Croatia. Long story,’ she added when her mum’s eyes widened. ‘I’ve come straight from the airport.’
‘Oh, I might have forgotten to turn on my mobile,’ her mother said. ‘And I was out most of the day, buying last-minute bits for Meg’s costume. Anyway, I’m thrilled you’re here. Come on.’ She linked arms with Emma. ‘Let’s go watch your sister’s debut.’
Entering the auditorium, they settled beside Will and Andrew in the back row as Meg’s class marched onto the stage. A giant smile crossed Emma’s face as she spotted a beaming Meg, resplendent in her star costume.
‘There she is!’ Emma whispered to Will, pointing towards her sister. Meg was eagerly scanning the audience, and Emma raised her arm high in the air and waved. Meg grinned in response, and Emma’s heart lifted. As Will grasped her hand on one side and her mum took her arm on the other, Emma wondered how she ever could have thought pulling away from her family was the right thing. It had taken a mad dash through a snowy London to get here, but she’d never been so happy to be anywhere in her life.
‘Wasn’t Meg great?’ her mother said forty-five minutes later, when the concert had finally come to an end and parents filtered into the packed foyer.
‘She certainly was.’ Suddenly Emma remembered she still hadn’t introduced Will. ‘Mum, this is Will. Will, this is my mother and my stepfather, Andrew.’
‘Nice to meet you.’ Will shook their hands warmly and Emma caught her mother giving him the once-over before she turned to Emma, nodding with approval.
‘Oh, here’s our girl!’ Andrew said as Meg rushed towards them. Her eyes sparkled and she was practically vibrating with energy.
‘Emma! What did you think?’ The words tumbled from Meg’s mouth, and Emma couldn’t help grinning.
‘You were amazing. The best one up there.’ Her dad’s phrase slipped out before she even realised it, and Emma met her mother’s eyes. In a way, although it was years later and so much had changed, it felt like her father was here with them, too.
‘Who’s he?’ Meg asked b
luntly, nodding towards Will.
‘Meghan!’ Emma’s mother admonished, but Will just chuckled.
‘It’s fine. I’m Will, your sister’s friend.’
Meg stared up at him curiously. ‘Friend or boyfriend?’
Emma looked nervously at Will to gauge his reaction. ‘Actually…boyfriend,’ he responded, leaning down to kiss Emma’s cheek.
‘Ew!’ Meg covered her eyes.
‘Meg, that’s enough,’ Andrew said, shaking his head with a grin. ‘Now, where’s your bag? Let’s go get it, and we’ll head home.’
Emma, Will and her mother broke out laughing as Andrew propelled Meg away.
‘It’s lovely to meet you, Will,’ her mum said when they’d recovered. ‘Would you like to come back to the house for some hot chocolate—or maybe something stronger? We’d love to get to know you better.’
Emma darted another quick glance at Will. Sitting in the cosy kitchen listening to Meg dissect the concert was tempting, but it had been a couple of long days, and Emma wasn’t sure how much energy Will had left. But before she could say anything, Will opened his mouth.
‘I’d love to, thank you,’ he said. ‘Anyway, I want to hear all about Emma when she was young.’
Emma rolled her eyes. ‘There’s not that much to tell.’
‘Oh, I can think of a few things!’ her mother said, eyes dancing.
And as Meg and Andrew rejoined them and they followed the crowd out into the frigid night, Emma realised that finally, she had the family she’d been missing.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
Will made his way down the narrow corridors of the paint factory late the next morning, hoping his father was in his office and not prowling around on one of his many spot checks. His ability to chat with each and every one of the workers—and to know their jobs inside out—made him a great boss, but not one that was easy to track down.
