Being Emerald (Skimmerdale Book 2)

by Sharon Booth

  'From what I can gather, she was hardly living in the lap of luxury as a child. And her mother seems to have been a little bit, er, strange.'

  'You're not wrong there,' Cain admitted. 'Proper loony tunes she turned out to be. Mind you, no doubt that's all my fault, too.'

  'Well, you did break her heart,' Jed pointed out.

  'Whose side are you on?'

  'I can see both sides,' Jed said. 'I feel for Emerald. She's not had a settled life, and she does feel pushed out and lonely. She needs to feel as if she matters to you. Is that too much to ask?'

  Cain gave a heavy sigh. 'I suppose not.' He considered Jed. 'You're quite fond of her, ain't you?'

  'She's my kid sister,' said Jed. 'I don't like to think she's unhappy.'

  Cain brightened. 'Great. Well, in that case, you can come with us.'

  'What? Whoa! I never said —'

  'If I'm stuck with her, so are you. Surely, if you care so much about her, you'll want to keep her company while I'm sorting out this wedding stuff? Right?'

  Jed frowned. 'You're not really planning this wedding, are you? What do you know about them?'

  'Fuck all, mate,' Cain admitted with a grin. 'I wore what they told me, turned up on the day and said the words — mug that I was. Even so, I'm gunna make damn sure that Eden gets what she wants. Eliot strikes me as someone who ain't up for anything fancy, but I don't want him scuppering her dreams. So, are you up for it? 'Cos if you won't come, Emerald can't come, and that's that.'

  Against his better judgement, Jed had agreed, which was how he found himself standing at the edge of the hillside road, gazing upon a chequer board of fields in various shades of green, while Emerald fought to keep down her lunch beside him. 'Did you call your mom, tell her you wouldn't be back for a while?'

  'Oh, yes.' Emerald's tone was grim. 'She was furious at first; accused me of abandoning her and telling me I was a traitor who'd been sucked in by Dad's lies. Then I told her I was still going to send her my allowance and, funnily enough, she wished me a happy holiday and hung up.'

  Jed's heart ached for her, hearing the pain in her voice. 'Well,' he said, 'then a happy holiday's what we'll have. Right?' At her doubtful expression he forced himself to sound optimistic. 'It will be fun, honest it will.' He half-believed it. He loved the countryside and being around animals. It was the prospect of being stuck between a warring Cain and Emerald he didn't relish.

  'I really hope Eliot doesn't keep goats,' Emerald said.

  Jed laughed. 'Kinda random. You don't like goats?' He nudged her. 'And you, a child of nature.'

  'I used to like goats,' she assured him, 'until a few months ago.'

  'What happened a few months ago?' he enquired, intrigued.

  'Goat sodding yoga happened,' she muttered. 'God, that was a real eye-opener.'

  Jed felt the laughter bubbling up inside him and fought to keep a straight face. 'Goat yoga?'

  She glanced up at him, looking suspicious. 'It's all the rage,' she assured him. 'It's supposed to relax you and release oxytocin — the feelgood hormone.'

  'And did it do that?' He figured he already knew the answer, judging by the way she screwed up her nose in disgust.

  'It made me want to puke. My goat used my yoga mat as a toilet, and every time I bent over it butted me in the bum. Very painful. And how are you supposed to concentrate with a goat glued to your backside?'

  Jed turned away, so she wouldn't see the laughter in his eyes. 'Sounds a bit weird,' he said finally.

  She sighed. 'Lots of people love it. Animal therapy is very successful, and I suppose it's sort of in that category. But it's not much use if you take your yoga seriously.'

  'And you do?'

  'It gets me through life,' she told him. 'I can't go a day without my yoga session.'

  'Wow.' Jed puffed out his cheeks. 'Poor goats had no chance then.'

  'Not really. I should have known better.' She cast a glance back at the car, where Cain was sitting in the front seat, trying to hunt for Pokemon on his cell phone and letting out intermittent yells of frustration as his signal vanished. 'Talking of pains in the butt, when are you going to tell him? About the real reason you're in England, I mean.'

  Jed shrugged. 'Soon. He hasn't asked. If he does, I'll tell him.' At least, some of it, he thought. There was no need to paint a picture — a quick sketch would suffice.

  She nodded. 'Have you decided what you're going to do? I mean, you can't stay with him forever, can you?'

  He took a deep breath. 'No idea. I guess I'm hoping for some divine inspiration. Maybe round here, I'll find it. What about you?'

  'Oh.' She folded her arms. 'I know exactly what I'm going to do. Dad's going to invest in my business and I won't stop nagging at him until he does.'

  Chapter Nine

  'July! That doesn't give us much time, does it?' Emerald gave Eden a pitying look. 'Really, Eden, if you're going to do this properly, it takes at least six to twelve months of planning. It's already March.'

  'I don't much care if it is,' Eden said. 'Eliot and I met at the end of July, exactly two years ago. I want to celebrate that fact with our wedding. Don't forget, we have to work around the farm. We've got to find a gap in the diary before winter sets in. Trust me, we don't want a winter wedding. We might never be able to make it out of Fleetsthorpe to get married at all, so you'll have to go with me on this.' She seemed about to say something else but clamped her lips shut, as if suppressing the words.

  Emerald could guess what they were. What's it got to do with you, anyway? Eden was quite transparent, and evidently wasn't happy that Emerald had turned up to help. In fact, from the way she was acting, it had become quite clear that she didn't particularly want a big wedding at all.

  As Eliot sat there, looking more and more depressed, Emerald felt a spark of mischief ignite. Neither wanted what Cain was offering, but both thought they were doing the other a favour by accepting.

  It was obvious to her, from her dealings with Eliot, that he was a proud man, and having her father pay for the wedding would be killing him. Not to mention the fact that he loathed fuss and social gatherings. The only reason he would possibly agree was for Eden's sake. No doubt he thought, like Cain, that she deserved the best, and was swallowing his pride to make sure she got it.

  For her part, Eden clearly wanted a quiet wedding, but was trying to save Eliot the expense and worry. It was too funny.

  The fact that Cain was oblivious, and thought he was doing them a favour, would have been the funniest thing of all, if it wasn't so damn annoying that he was happily forking out for this fiasco, when he wouldn't put a penny towards her own business.

  She scowled at her father as he sat, scribbling words on a piece of paper. Dates, venues, costings ... He was being thorough, she thought, the bitterness coursing through her. God, she hated Eden. Look at her sitting there, all innocent and cow-eyed. What the hell did someone like Eliot see in her? She saw him shifting impatiently in his chair and thought he was wasted on that scheming bitch. She wondered what his first wife had been like. Probably another schemer, since she was related to Honey. Men were such idiots, sometimes. She'd have thought Eliot would have wised up by now.

  'I think Eliot needs to get back to work,' she said, giving him a sympathetic smile. 'Don't you think we've kept him away from the farm for long enough?'

  His brown eyes flashed her a look of gratitude which quite turned her knees to jelly. 'Aye, that's true enough. If you don't mind, I want to get on with mending't walls in lower fields before the owd girls come home.' He turned to Eden. 'You can manage without me, can't you?'

  Eden smiled. 'Of course. You get back to it, and we'll work through this lot.'

  He nodded and left the farmhouse, shutting the door behind him, and no doubt heaving a massive sigh of relief as he made his way across the yard.

  'What old girls are coming home?' Cain enquired, sounding puzzled.

  Eden laughed. 'Our elderly ewes. We send them to a farmer further south to take
care of them over the winter. It's too harsh for them round here in the bad weather. They're coming back in a couple of days to reacclimatise before they lamb in April.'

  'Get you,' Cain said, sounding admiring. 'You know all the lingo now, don't you? Proper farmer's wife.'

  'Not yet, she isn't,' Emerald reminded him. She jumped, startled, as something brushed against her leg. To her relief, she discovered it was a rather beautiful seal point ragdoll cat, with huge blue eyes, and not the rat she'd feared.

  'Aren't you gorgeous?' Emerald reached down and scooped the cat up, gratified when it settled comfortably on her lap. Who'd have thought such a stunning cat would live on a farm? She glanced around the large, glossy kitchen, having to admit to herself that it was far classier than she'd expected. Evidently, someone, at some point, had shown great taste. She could almost see herself living here. With Eliot by her side it wouldn't be so bad, surely? She could see it now ... feeding baby lambs with a bottle as Eliot looked on proudly and told her how wonderful she was and how much he loved her.

  'So, you've got your heart set on a church? Are you sure?' Her father's voice snapped her back to reality. Cain sounded disapproving, which wasn't surprising, considering his complete lack of faith or belief in any kind of afterlife — a fact that his fans would find most bewildering, given his backlist of songs which read like a tribute to Satan and all the demons of hell.

  While his more ardent fans hailed him as a king of the underworld, Cain dismissed all talk of anything supernatural with a wave of the hand and a firm, "When you're dead, you're dead, and thank God for it". He never seemed to see the irony of that statement, but that was her father all over. He wasn't the sharpest tool in the box.

  'It seems to be important to Eliot,' Eden murmured. Emerald raised an eyebrow. Really? She wouldn't have put Eliot down as a religious man, either. She wondered what was behind his desire to make his vows in the house of God.

  'But is it important to you? It's as much your wedding as his,' she said, thinking the more trouble she could stir up between them the better. Why should Eden get the perfect man? If she could cause her a few bumps in her perfectly smooth, straight road through life, well good. Her own journey had been a bloody nightmare — full of sharp bends and whopping big potholes. Let Eden hit some obstacles for once.

  'If it makes him happy, I'm all for it,' Eden assured her, and Emerald fought down her irritation. They were the perfect couple, weren't they? So thoughtful and considerate towards each other. It was sickening. The cat purred, and Emerald was pretty sure she was agreeing with her. Cats were highly intelligent creatures, after all.

  'So, you need to get onto the vicar, then,' Cain was saying. 'If you're sure you want it here, I mean? Wouldn't you like to get married nearer to your parents? The church in Lowminster is cracking, and I'm sure —'

  'This is my home now,' she said. 'I've made my life here, and I'm happy here. There's a lovely little church in Camacker, and the vicar's a nice man. I'm sure he'll be able to fit us in. It's not as if there are a lot of weddings round here.'

  'So, what about the reception? Now, hear me out on this. Seeing as you refuse to come back to the Cotswolds, I was thinking of a hotel near here. Ashington Hall's only a few miles from where we're staying, and it's got a good-sized function room. I had a gander online 'cos I was gunna book there 'til I saw the prices, but they do quite a few wedding receptions there, apparently, so they know what they're doing. We could — '

  His voice trailed off as Eden shook her head. 'Thank you, Cain, but Ashington Hall! It's far too big and grand. The village pub has a room and —'

  'The village pub! Good God, Eden, what sort of a wedding is this? What's the point of getting married if you ain't gunna push the boat out? You want a church wedding, right? Well, you need to invite a good few people then, because otherwise the place'll be all dark and bare. Nothing spookier than a half-empty church. All them creepy echoes and shadows. Fair makes my skin crawl.'

  'How odd, since you don't believe in an afterlife,' Emerald said. She smiled at Eden. 'Maybe you could get married at Hallowe'en. Then it wouldn't matter if the church was as quiet as a tomb.'

  'For gawd's sake! This is supposed to be the happiest day of their lives. I won't have it. At the very least you deserve the function room at The Paradise, and I don't want no arguments. I know you're trying to save me money, but you don't have to worry about it. I'm more than happy to pay.'

  'Aren't you a lucky girl?' said Emerald, not bothering to keep the sarcasm from her voice. Was her father deliberately trying to upset her?

  The door opened, and Jed strolled in, carrying a little boy in his arms. Behind him walked two young girls, all dark curls and flashing brown eyes, like their father.

  'You've found Bella,' said the youngest girl, looking impressed. 'She doesn't usually sit with strangers. She must like you.'

  'The feeling's mutual,' Emerald admitted, glancing down at the cat on her lap. 'She's gorgeous.'

  'We've been showing Jed Flora,' said the eldest girl, as Eden removed a reluctant George from Jed's grasp. 'He loved her, didn't you?'

  'Cute pony,' Jed confirmed. 'In fact, I reckon she's the prettiest pony I've ever seen.'

  The girls beamed with pride and Emerald smirked. All right, all right, don't overdo it, brother dear. She watched as he took his seat at the table, and the two girls crowded round him. He was good with children, and she smiled as George demanded to sit with him.

  Eden laughed and handed him back, and Jed sat him on his knee, bending his head to talk to him.

  As he glanced up, her smirk dropped. Something in his eyes twisted her heart — a bleakness that quite wrenched her. What was wrong with him? She knew why he'd come back to England, but there was something else. Something he wasn't telling her. She was so concerned that, for a moment, she forgot to be hateful to Eden and found herself saying please when she was offered a cup of tea.

  As she looked away from her brother, she realised, with surprise, that her father was also watching him. Maybe he wasn't as stupid as he looked. He seemed thoughtful, considering Jed's expression. She had a feeling that tonight was going to be the night that Cain finally asked the question Jed had been dreading.

  ****

  'So, what's this really all about?'

  James handed his father a glass of whisky and took a seat opposite him. They were in the snug at Thwaite Park — a small, cosy room with dark red walls, a log burner, and squashy leather sofas. It was their favourite room during the colder months, although, during the summer they much preferred the sitting room along the hall — a large, bright space painted in a summery shade of yellow, with French doors that opened out onto the lawns.

  He watched as his father took a sip of his drink and leaned back in his chair, a smug grin on his lips. His father was in his early sixties now, but he was still a figure of authority. There was never any doubt as to who was in charge when he was around. James realised that things were going to be quite different now that he was home, and the thought wasn't an altogether pleasant one. He'd been used to doing things his way. Now David Fuller was back, it would be all about him. It was always all about him.

  'There must be some reason for leaving London,' he probed. 'I must say, I can't imagine why you'd want to leave Barnes behind. It's a lovely area, and Mother seemed very happy there. She said it was a friendly little community, and that there was a real village feel to the place. Anyway, I thought you were enjoying your life of leisure?'

  'You thought wrong then.' David shot him a look of disgust. 'It's very overrated, you know, being retired. Oh, in theory it's all very well. No more meetings, or accounts, or deadlines. In reality it's boring as hell. I was itching to get back up here. I've missed this house. I've missed Yorkshire.'

  'London wasn't to your taste?'

  David hesitated. 'London has never been to my taste. Barnes — became uncomfortable.'

  There was quiet for a moment as he took another sip of whisky, and James gripped his own gl
ass a little tighter. No doubt his father had been up to his old tricks, and some woman had got too clingy for his liking. He wondered if his mother knew. Somehow, he rather thought she must do. She always seemed to find out, almost as if she had a sixth sense about such things. Yet here she was, still by his side, still calm and cool and unruffled.

  James thought about Beth. When she'd found out about Jemima, she'd been far from cool. She'd sobbed hysterically, and he'd worried she'd never smile again. Even now, things weren't right between them, and he didn't know what else he could do. Truthfully, he was growing tired of feeling guilty, tired of trying to think of new ways to make it up to her. He wondered at his father's strength. Why did he never seem too worried when his affairs were discovered? Guilt certainly never seemed to weigh him down or cause him to lose any sleep.

  'That's the thing with these friendly communities. Everyone knows your business.' He felt rather brave, going as far as that. Better not push his father too far.

  David swilled the whisky in his glass and sighed. 'I quite liked where we lived but, truthfully, your mother wasn't herself there. Anyway, it served its purpose. Time to look to the future now.'

  'And what might that involve?'

  'Oh,' David waved his glass in the air, 'who knows?'

  Something in the way he said it made James nervous.

  He watched, feeling unaccountably anxious as his father stood and walked over to the window. 'You've nothing in mind then?'

  David was staring out over the lawn. 'What do you see out there?'

  'The garden.' James wondered if his father was quite all right. He strolled over to join him, trying to see what it was his father was seeing.

  'The garden, yes, and acres of prime Yorkshire Dales land. All ours. You understand that, boy?'

  James tried not to show his annoyance. He hated it when his father called him boy. He was thirty-five, for God's sake. 'Well, obviously. It's beautiful. We're very lucky.'