City Cinderella

by Catherine George

  ‘We don’t know there’s going to be an outcome yet,’ she said irritably.

  ‘True. But no morning-after pill. Emily, promise me.’ His eyes met hers with such intensity that she nodded, secretly relieved to have the decision taken from her.

  ‘All right, let’s talk breakfast instead. How about some eggs?’

  ‘Yes. If you have some, too. In here. With me.’ Lucas lay back against his pillows, smiling with persuasion she couldn’t resist.

  Emily nodded again, afraid, as so often lately, to trust her voice. She picked up the tray and made for the door, clearing her throat. ‘How do you want the eggs?’

  ‘The way you like best,’ he said promptly. ‘What time are you due at the Donaldsons’?’

  ‘They won’t be back until late this evening, so I’ll go over there after you’ve taken the next dose.’

  ‘I’m perfectly capable of looking at a clock and swallowing the damned thing myself,’ he informed her.

  ‘Good,’ she said, unmoved. ‘From then on you’ll have to.’

  Emily returned later with a tray. She gave Lucas a glass of orange juice, then handed over his omelette and sat down to eat her own.

  ‘Wonderful,’ said Lucas indistinctly and peered at her plate. ‘Yours is much smaller than mine.’

  ‘I’m not the invalid in need of nourishment—careful, don’t eat so quickly.’

  ‘Yes, Nurse,’ he said, and gave her a smile which made her heart contract.

  ‘Perhaps you’ll fancy something more filling later on,’ she said huskily. ‘I’ll do some shopping while I’m out. What would you like?’

  ‘If I’m to cope with it myself, something basic like soup,’ he said, with a melancholy sigh.

  ‘Can’t you cook, then?’

  ‘I can, if absolutely necessary. But at the moment I’m a bit deficient in the energy department—for cooking, anyway,’ he added, looking her in the eye.

  Emily jumped up to take his empty plate, her face hot. ‘Right. Soup it is.’ She looked around her in disparagement. ‘Tomorrow you can retreat to the sofa for an hour while I sort this room out.’

  ‘Tomorrow?’ demanded Lucas, brightening. ‘I thought you were abandoning me for good, today.’

  Emily shrugged, resigned. ‘I suppose I’d better come back tomorrow. But not for long,’ she added, when his eyes, no longer bloodshot, gleamed like jet in satisfaction.

  ‘I’ll take whatever crumbs of your company you’ll give me,’ he said, with unconvincing humility.

  She grinned and went off to the kitchen, sobering quickly as she made tea. This intimacy of sharing meals in the bedroom had to stop. It smacked too much of a relationship which didn’t actually exist. And if there were any ‘outcome’ to the episode in the night, some share of the blame was hers. Lucas hadn’t asked her to come round to look after him. She couldn’t deny that the enforced intimacy of the past few days had done away with the employer/servant barrier she’d tried to put up between herself and Lucas Tennent. But the fact remained—whatever the outcome, they were still virtual strangers.

  She went into the bedroom, gave Lucas his tea, then sat down.

  ‘How do you feel?’ she asked. ‘Truthfully.’

  ‘A lot better. Yesterday I thought I was dying. Today I’m very much alive.’ He smiled at her. ‘A combination of medical science and your tender loving care, Emily. No man could ask for more.’

  ‘Good. I won’t feel so guilty when I leave you on your own, then.’

  His smile vanished. ‘I’m going to miss you like hell.’

  ‘Nonsense,’ she said, getting up. ‘Until last Friday you’d never set eyes on me.’

  His eyes gleamed. ‘Why can’t I get my head round that?’

  ‘Because you’re under the weather. Once you’re fighting fit and juggling with stocks and shares again, or whatever it is you do—’

  ‘I’ll still feel grateful to you, Emily. Nor will I forget,’ he added.

  She sighed impatiently. ‘We’re back to the “outcome”, I suppose.’

  Lucas stabbed her with a look like black ice. ‘You don’t have some hare-brained idea about keeping me in the dark, by any chance?’

  ‘No.’ Though she’d certainly considered it. ‘I promised I’d let you know, so I will.’ Her eyes flashed. ‘But until then, could we drop the subject, please?’

  ‘For the time being only.’ Lucas eyed her moodily. ‘Must you clean at the Donaldsons’ today? You need a rest.’

  ‘It won’t take long to leave them a few supplies and make sure everything’s shipshape for their return. I did their place thoroughly last Friday.’

  His eyes gleamed. ‘Eventful day, last Friday!’

  Emily gave him a wry smile of agreement and got up to take their mugs. ‘Stay in bed, please, Lucas. Take advice from an old hand. You might feel better right now, but leave it for a day or two before you’re up all day.’

  He scowled. ‘I’ll go raving mad!’

  ‘Nonsense. There’s a radio and a television in here, and a stack of books by your bed,’ she said impatiently. ‘Be sensible, Lucas. I’ll bring you a daily paper when I come back to check on you.’

  ‘How long will you be?’ he demanded, looking so gloomy that Emily laughed at him.

  ‘As long as it takes!’

  She gave Lucas his pill, provided him with bottled water and orange juice, then went off to do some shopping before her stint at the Donaldsons’ flat. After putting the supplies away there, she made sure everything was in order, watered the plants, left a brief note on the kitchen memo-pad to say Lucas had flu, then went back to him.

  Emily let herself back into the flat as quietly as she could, put her shopping away, peeped into the bedroom, frowned to find it unoccupied, then gave a smothered screech when Lucas caught her in his arms, spun her round, and kissed her soundly.

  ‘Don’t do that!’ she exploded, shoving him away with furious hands. ‘Why are you out of bed?’

  ‘The obvious reason.’ He blinked suddenly and steadied himself against the chest at the end of the bed.

  ‘You see?’ she said fiercely. ‘Crime doesn’t pay, Lucas Tennent. I bet your head’s spinning.’

  ‘Yes,’ he admitted meekly, allowing her to help him back to bed. The black eyes gleamed. ‘But only from your effect on me.’

  ‘You mean you’re not as fit as you thought!’ She stared down at him in an agony of indecision, then looked at her watch. ‘I really must get back to Spitalfields now, Lucas, but if you can mange on your own this afternoon I’ll come back later if you like.’

  ‘And if I promise to keep to my own bed will you stay the night?’ he said, with a look of such blazing relief that Emily, who had intended nothing of the sort, nodded, defeated.

  ‘Oh, all right. But just for tonight.’

  ‘But don’t walk back, Emily. Take a taxi. I’ll pay.’

  She smiled wryly. ‘You’ll have to. My budget doesn’t run to taxis.’

  Before she went, Emily made some coffee and a sandwich and took it in to Lucas with strict instructions to remember his pill at two. ‘I’ll be back in time for the next dose.’

  ‘I’ll manage without you, somehow,’ he assured her. ‘Go home and have a rest, Emily. The shadows under those big eyes of yours are giving me a guilt complex.’

  ‘You’ve got some, too,’ she retorted, then grinned. ‘But if my eyes look big I’m definitely not sickening for anything. According to my brother, I look like a hamster when I’m ill.’

  Lucas let out a snort of laughter. ‘Typical brotherly comment.’

  ‘Time I went.’ She wagged an autocratic finger. ‘Once you’ve taken the antibiotics, have a good sleep.’

  ‘I will, Nurse, if only to pass the time until you’re back. And take some money for the taxi.’

  ‘We’ll settle up when I get back—’

  ‘Take it now,’ he ordered in a tone which sent Emily to the chest to take out his wallet. Lips compressed, she extracted a banknote and
showed it to him.

  ‘Right. I’m off.’

  ‘No kiss goodbye?’ he said, aggrieved.

  ‘Certainly not! See you later.’

  CHAPTER SIX

  ON THE way back Emily bought a pregnancy test, and learned she had nineteen days to wait before using it. By which time it would be unnecessary. When she got to Spitalfields she trudged wearily up the two steep flights of stairs to her room, and found a red light on her answerphone. Certain it was Miles, but afraid to erase the message in case it was Lucas, she pressed the button and listened in angry frustration.

  ‘Emily, this is Miles again. As if you didn’t know. I need to talk to you. Pick up, Emily.’ There was a pause. ‘All right. Play it your way. But don’t think you can hide forever.’

  Why not? she thought furiously. She had nothing to say to Miles. Their parting had been so acrimonious she shuddered at the memory. The row between them had escalated to the edge of violence before Miles had gone rushing out of the flat that night. Afraid he might come back any minute, Emily had left a message on her boss’s voicemail to say she was ill, and quit London immediately to drive herself and her possessions to Chastlecombe. By the time she’d arrived home in the small hours her fictional illness had become factual influenza, and as soon as she’d recovered enough to make conscious decisions she’d sent in her resignation. Apart from frantic phone calls to her parents’ home, when he was told Emily wanted nothing to do with him, she’d heard nothing since from Miles until his messages on her new, unlisted telephone. 79

  Emily erased the latest, rang to order a taxi for five-thirty, then changed her sweater for a T-shirt and went downstairs to make an overdue start on Nat’s rooms. She worked steadily for a couple of hours, then went up to the first floor to perform the same service for Mark. Tired and hot afterwards, and filled with an overwhelming desire to crawl into bed, she swallowed a cup of black coffee instead. Once the caffeine had done its work, she packed an overnight bag, stood under a warm shower for a while, then went back to her room to treat her hair to some styling for once. She gathered it up into a loose, curling knot on top of her head, then paid detailed attention to her face. Yawning, she dressed in bronze velvet jeans and black sweater, pulled on black suede ankle-boots, added a vintage black velvet jacket snapped up in a church jumble sale, slung a long black mohair scarf round her neck, then took her belongings downstairs to wait in the hall for the taxi.

  Light-headed with fatigue, Emily dozed on the short journey and woke with a start, blinking like an owl when the taxi stopped outside Lucas’s building. She paid the driver, hoisted her bag, then went up in the lift and let herself into the flat. She went quietly into Lucas’s bedroom to find him sitting in a chair in his dressing-gown, watching a newscast. At the sight of her he came to his feet with a smile of such unguarded delight that Emily felt a giant fist squeeze her heart.

  ‘I’m back,’ she informed him after a pause.

  ‘So you are,’ he said huskily. ‘I’ve missed you.’

  ‘Did you sleep?’ she said breathlessly.

  ‘Yes. Did you?’

  ‘No. I had a shower instead.’

  ‘Will you hit me if I said I did, too?’

  She smiled ruefully. ‘Not much point, now. How do you feel?’

  ‘All the better for seeing you, Emily Warner.’ He moved closer. ‘You still look tired.’

  ‘I had a few things to do,’ she said, backing away.

  ‘Working on your laptop?’

  ‘No. Just a bit of tidying up.’ Emily looked at her watch then took off her coat. ‘I’ll put this away, then I’ll bring you a drink so you can take your pill.’

  ‘I was just about to do that,’ he assured her virtuously. ‘Though I’m delighted you arrived early to remind me.’

  ‘Back into bed, then.’

  Emily hung her jacket up on a hook on the guest room door, decided the quilt needed to stay on the heated floor a bit longer, then went into the kitchen to put the kettle on to make a hot drink with lemon juice, honey and brown sugar.

  ‘I thought you’d like this for a change,’ she said when she took it in to Lucas.

  He sipped experimentally and smiled in appreciation. ‘Pure nostalgia. My grandmother used to make this when Ally and I were sniffly kids.’

  Emily handed him the antibiotics. ‘Chase this down with it and you’ll soon be back to normal.’ A thought which depressed. Normal for Lucas Tennent was light years away from normal for Emily Warner.

  He gulped the pill down, took a swig of the drink, then waved her to the chair. ‘Sit down and talk to me. I missed you.’

  ‘You said you slept.’

  ‘I did.’ His sloe-black eyes locked with hers. ‘But I would have slept better with you for company.’

  Controlling a shiver of reaction, Emily sat back in the chair, making a conscious effort to relax. ‘Do you think that’s why I agreed to come back tonight? To sleep with you, Lucas?’ she asked bluntly.

  He shook his head, smiling. ‘I know exactly why you came back.’

  She stiffened. ‘Oh?’

  ‘Because you just couldn’t bear the thought of leaving me all alone and ill.’

  Emily grimaced. ‘A bit saccharine. Pollyanna was no favourite of mine.’

  ‘If I also said you’re sexy as hell would you like that better?’ he demanded, then laughed at the outrage on her face. ‘I hope you never play poker, Emily.’

  She got up, scowling at him. ‘I’m going to do something about a meal.’

  ‘I’ll only eat it if you come in here and share it with me,’ he said promptly. ‘Whatever it is.’

  Emily shook her head. ‘I’ll share it with you, certainly, but not in here. If you feel up to it, I suggest you get up for a while and have supper on a tray.’

  Lucas eyed her narrowly. ‘Does that mean you’re never going to set foot in my bedroom again?’

  ‘No, indeed. In the morning I’m going to give it a good sorting out,’ she said briskly.

  ‘Emily?’

  ‘Yes?’

  He gave her the bone-melting smile. ‘Am I allowed to say you’re a delight to the eye tonight?’

  ‘Certainly,’ she assured him, ignoring her pole-vaulting heart. ‘By the way, I forgot to ask. Do you like salmon? The cold, poached variety?’

  ‘As it happens, I do. But for you, Emily Warner, I’d eat anything!’

  Emily left him to begin preparations for their simple meal, knowing full well that she looked good tonight. She’d taken a great deal of trouble with her hair and face, and the clothes she was wearing were simple enough, but they were the kind she wore to go out with Ginny, or to join Nat and the others for a drink. Certainly not the clothes she wore to clean Lucas’s flat. Nor the kind she could afford any more. Refusing to analyse her reasons for gilding the lily, Emily prepared tiny potatoes and green beans and put them to cook, then whisked a spoonful of horseradish into clotted cream to accompany the fillets of ready-poached salmon. She buttered slices from a ciabatta loaf, dusted a touch of cayenne over the cream garnish, then tested the vegetables for readiness.

  She went into the hall and knocked on Lucas’s door. ‘Dinner ready in five minutes,’ she called.

  He came out at once, newly shaved, wearing a heavy sweater and khakis. ‘I dressed for dinner,’ he said, stifling a cough. ‘Can’t lie around in a dressing gown when my companion looks so delectable.’

  His delectable companion flushed hectically. ‘I hope you haven’t tired yourself out in the process,’ she scolded. ‘Go and lie down on one of the sofas. I shan’t be long.’

  ‘Emily.’ Lucas laid a hand on her arm. ‘Relax. Please. I swear I won’t jump on you again.’

  ‘I thought we’d decided to drop the subject,’ she muttered, face averted.

  ‘We can’t pretend last night never happened,’ he said quietly, then turned her face up to his. ‘But just for this evening let’s forget I’ve been ill and you’re only here because you promised my sister to stay. I enj
oy your company, Emily, so for a couple of hours couldn’t you at least pretend to enjoy mine?’

  She gave him a very straight look. ‘You know perfectly well that I don’t have to pretend.’

  ‘Is that why you came back?’

  Emily gave him a wry little smile. ‘I suppose it must be one of the reasons.’

  Lucas had said no more than the truth. She had come back because she couldn’t bear to think of him alone and ill—also because she’d promised his sister to look after him. But those were the high-minded reasons. The other motive was more basic. She’d just wanted to spend the evening with Lucas. Emily knew that this little interlude was a time apart from their normal lives. Once Lucas was better he wouldn’t need her any more.

  And pretence didn’t come into it when it came to enjoying Lucas’s company over the simple meal. It was fun to eat from plates on their knees, sitting together on the same sofa, and, because Lucas had been reading book reviews earlier, arguing amicably over the merits of various writers.

  ‘This morning,’ said Lucas, when he laid down his knife and fork at last, ‘I wouldn’t have believed I could eat a mouthful of that, let alone wolf it down.’

  ‘Flattering to the cook,’ commented Emily, finishing her own at a slower pace. ‘Though cooking didn’t really come into it. Anyone can do something like this.’

  Lucas gave her a wry look as she got up to take his plate. ‘Not in my kitchen, they don’t. No one’s ever made dinner for me here before.’

  ‘Really?’ Emily eyed him in surprise.

  ‘Really. The ladies of my acquaintance prefer dining out. My sister included.’

  Well aware that for a man like Lucas Tennent there would be no shortage of women in his life, Emily controlled an irrational pang of jealousy and went out to load the dishwasher. When she got back with a tray of coffee Lucas sprang up to take it from her.

  ‘Steady,’ she warned, as he swayed enough to make the cups rattle. ‘Don’t get up so suddenly. You’re not fighting fit just yet.’

  Lucas grimaced as he set the tray down on the low chest in front of the sofa. ‘God knows how I’d be at this stage if you hadn’t come to look after me.’ He sat down and patted the place beside him. ‘I suppose I couldn’t have a brandy with my coffee?’