Emma's Secret

  Emily wished she had a figure like Paula’s, but try though she did she always looked slightly plump in comparison. No wonder Paula had affectionately dubbed her Apple Dumpling when she was little. She was still fighting the childhood propensity to put on weight.

  In all the years of their growing up together they had never exchanged a cross word or had a quarrel, although sometimes the eight-year-old Paula had reprimanded Emily when she was five and they were staying at Heron’s Nest, Emma’s summer home in Scarborough, and she had been what Paula called ‘a pest’. Cousins, best friends and confidantes, they had been each other’s rock in times of trouble and adversity.

  For the most part, these two had been brought up by Emma, were trained by her, and today they ran a large part of her empire between them, and did so with great skill. They were devoted to their grandmother’s memory, and in a sense they were the keepers of the flame.

  Pausing at the door of the bedroom which adjoined the upstairs parlour, Paula said, ‘There’s something I want to show you before the others arrive.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Linnet and India found it in the storage attics and—’

  ‘The famous beaded dress!’ Emily declared triumphantly.

  ‘No, not the dress. Oh, they found that all right, but they came across something else, something much more important.’

  ‘Hurry up then, I’m intrigued.’ Emily sat back, an expectant look on her face.

  A moment later Paula came back carrying the old brown leather suitcase, the small one which contained the diaries. She placed it on the coffee table in front of Emily, and then, leaning forward, she lifted the lid.

  ‘This is it,’ she said, glancing over her shoulder to look at her cousin.

  ‘What’s in it, actually?’ Emily asked, full of curiosity.

  ‘Grandy’s diaries. From 1938 to 1947. Ten of them, and they’re all in the most beautiful condition. I suspect she stored them in this case for years, and that’s why they’re so well preserved.’

  ‘Oh my God, what a find!’ Emily cried, leaning forward, staring at the set of black leather, gold-embossed diaries placed side by side in consecutive order within the case. ‘But where on earth have they been all these years? And how is it the girls just found them? I mean, why didn’t we?’ She glanced at Paula, frowning. ‘How could we have missed them?’

  ‘You’re going to have a good laugh when I tell you where they were stored for years, Emily.’

  ‘Where?’

  ‘In that walk-in closet in the ground floor office.’

  ‘Not the one which is now called the morning room?’ Emily asked, her eyes wide with surprise.

  ‘Exactly. They’d been there for years. This one and five others, all part of a matched set of luggage from Asprey. Grandy used that office every day when she was at Pennistone Royal, and for years and years. So it was definitely she who put them there. This small case was actually inside a larger one, otherwise I would have noticed the luggage label marked confidential. Anyway, I moved them when I revamped that room a few months ago.’

  ‘And you never looked inside any of the cases?’ Emily asked, incredulity echoing in her voice.

  ‘No. Why would I? They weren’t heavy. I just assumed Grandy had kept them there because there was no space left in the luggage room. Which there isn’t. And it was a convenient place. Actually, I never gave them a second thought, not even when I used that office myself. I had Margaret put them down in the basement when I redecorated.’

  ‘So how did they find their way to the attics?’

  ‘Margaret took them up there. We had a dreadful flood in the basement two weeks ago, and she remembered the cases when she was taking other things out to safety. She knew they were good, hardly used, and she put them in the smaller attic, in the first cupboard where there was space.’

  ‘Thank God she did. If she hadn’t, the cases and the diaries would have been totally ruined, destroyed.’

  ‘You’re right, we’re lucky she acted so promptly.’

  Emily glanced at the open suitcase again, and then turned to her cousin. ‘Have you read any of them?’

  ‘I haven’t. Linnet only gave them to me a couple of hours ago.’

  ‘Are you going to?’

  ‘Eventually, I suppose.’

  ‘Shall we look inside one now?’ Emily asked. ‘I’m very curious.’

  Paula hesitated, and then nodded. ‘All right, if you want to, Emily.’

  Reaching into the case, Emily pulled out the diary dated 1938, opened it and glanced at the first page, then she handed it to Paula silently.

  After scanning the page in the same cursory way Emily had done, Paula put the diary back in the small suitcase. ‘I don’t think we should be reading these…’

  ‘I know what you mean, they’re very private. On the other hand, Paula, I have the feeling Gran wouldn’t mind us looking at them. I think she’d want us to read them, actually.’

  ‘Perhaps you’re right. But for now I’m going to lock the case and put it away somewhere safe. And maybe in a few weeks or so we can read them together. If you’d like that, Emily?’

  ‘Oh yes, I would, that’s a good idea. Gran was articulate, you know, and actually she wrote rather well I thought. She expressed herself most eloquently at times.’ Emily paused, and then leaning toward Paula, she said quietly, ‘I’m sure there are a few secrets in there, don’t you agree?’

  ‘I don’t really know…did she have any during the war years? Paul was dead and she was grieving, coping with our uncles being in the services, running a big business under wartime conditions. What kind of secrets could she possibly have had?’

  ‘Well, I didn’t mean sexual, or anything like that! I bet she never wrote that kind of thing down. Really, Paula, Gran was very proper.’

  ‘She also had a number of husbands, let’s not forget that.’

  ‘Only two. And two lovers.’

  ‘And that was that. So I’m sure there are no secrets buried in those diaries.’

  ‘You never know. Anyway, everyone has secrets,’ Emily pronounced.

  ‘They do?’ Shane said from the doorway, startling them both, making them jump as he strolled into the room. ‘Are you quite positive of that?’ He was smiling broadly as he came to join them by the fireside.

  Paula said, ‘I didn’t get a chance to tell you earlier, Shane, but India found a case full of Grandy’s diaries in the attic. I was just telling Emily about their discovery, showing them to her.’

  ‘How wonderful,’ he said, glancing at the case on the coffee table. ‘I see they’re her private diaries.’

  ‘Yes, it’s a great find, but we’ve decided not to read any of them. At least not now.’

  Shane looked down at her, his eyes loving as he said, ‘You’ve made a good decision…wait for the right moment. After all, these are sacrosanct…a woman’s private thoughts and feelings. Those should be treated with great respect.’

  Later, as she sat near the fireplace in the great Stone Hall, Paula glanced around at her family, as always pleased and happy to have them gathered around her at Pennistone Royal.

  Everyone had finally arrived. Shane had mixed drinks for those who wanted whiskey or vodka, and Linnet and India had poured champagne into tall Venetian flutes and passed them around.

  Although she rarely drank, Paula had elected to have a glass of champagne tonight, and she sat sipping it, her eyes roaming around the room. They came to rest on her cousin…and staunchly devoted ally, Emily. She was currently engaged in deep conversation with Emsie, the two of them sitting in a corner near the fireplace. Those two had bonded early in Emsie’s young life, and they were particularly close. When Emily had been a teenager, she had loved horses, and had been a champion rider in all manner of equestrian events in Yorkshire. Mucking out stables had been fun for Emily, just as it was for Emsie. They had a lot in common, in many areas, quite aside from loving each other. How pretty Emily looks, Paula thought. Her cousin was wearing a sage
-green silk tunic over fir-green wool twill trousers, so narrow and well cut they might have been tailored for a cavalry officer. The green emphasized the loveliness of her eyes, and her soft blonde colouring, while the outfit made her look slimmer, Paula noted.

  She experienced a sudden, wonderful surge of warmth and love for Emily, who had been her stalwart companion since childhood. There was nobody like Emily in the whole family, not really. Loving, kind and sincere, she was also a tough businesswoman, direct, with no frills attached, and outspoken to the point of bluntness. There were times, at meetings, when she took Paula’s breath away with her pithy comments, most of which usually made Paula laugh hilariously.

  Even Emsie had made a big effort tonight, Paula realized, as her eyes lingered on her seventeen-year-old daughter. Emsie…another original, Paula thought, smiling inwardly. Usually she looked dishevelled and grungy in unattractive clothes that Paula wanted to rip off and burn. In fact, the only time she looked halfway decent was when she wore her riding clothes. But tonight there had been a sudden reversal, and Emsie was attractively decked out in scarlet wool trousers and a matching turtleneck sweater, which Paula recognized. Didn’t they belong to Linnet? Well, she’d obviously borrowed them. Red was a marvellous colour for Emsie with her black hair and black eyes.

  No mistaking who she is, Paula thought, scrutinizing her intently. She was Black Irish, a true Celt, the epitome of an O’Neill. Her eyes swept over the three men in her life: Shane, Desmond and Grandfather Bryan. They were standing together talking near the big armoire, obviously engrossed in some topic, horses and racing, no doubt. Tall, long-legged, broad shouldered all three of them, descended from Shane Patrick Desmond O’Neill, known to the world as Blackie. They had inherited their looks and their colouring from him. Bryan’s hair was pure white now and Shane’s tinged with silver at the sides, but Desmond, at fifteen, had hair as black as coal. Her three devoted men, how she loved them. Like Emsie, the youngest of the clan, they were unmistakably O’Neills right down to their boots.

  And there was her other child, Linnet. She was a true Harte, no two ways about that, with red hair shot through with gold and green eyes. She had chosen to wear black trousers and a black sweater with a scooped-out neck, and she looked taller than ever and very slender, her hair a fiery halo around her pale face. Tonight she appeared quiet and reflective, unsmiling. Paula was certain it was because of Julian’s presence.

  Shifting slightly in the chair, Paula’s eyes scanned the Stone Hall, and finally she spotted her great ally, Gideon. He was standing at the far end, engrossed in conversation with India, his first cousin and close friend. Like Linnet, Gideon was pure Harte, with dark russet hair and light green eyes, very white teeth in his lean, tanned face. He loved sports and had recently been to Switzerland for five days’ skiing, where he had caught the sun. He was good looking, like his father Winston, and just as stable; devoted to the family in the same way Winston had always been.

  Her eyes settled on her cousin Anthony’s daughter, India. Lady India Standish. She had an honorary title as the daughter of an earl. Another blonde in the family, a dainty, fragile-looking girl, with delicate bones and soulful eyes. Soft, gentle; but Paula knew that India had a great deal of strength, and was a true and loyal friend to Linnet. She carried the Fairley blood through her grandmother Edwina, and there were those who said she had a strong look of her when she had been young. Paula felt protective of India, although Shane laughed at her when she said this, reminding her that India had the courage of a lion and could easily stare down an army without flinching. She was the family’s favourite because of her loving kindness, her tenderness and compassion for others. Paula knew that she was also very brave.

  Paula spotted another family favourite, and her great friend and colleague, Winston. Her cousin, Emily’s husband. He was travelling across the Stone Hall in long strides, intent on joining his best friend Shane. Winston’s red-gold hair had faded and was touched with grey, but just as the O’Neills were stamped with a particular look, so were the Hartes, passed down from Emma and her brother Winston. This Winston, the one walking across the stone floor tonight, had been very special to Emma, a great favourite, perhaps because he had looked so much like her. ‘The salt of the earth,’ she had called him, and it was true. He was very charming, dashing. Emily had been smitten with him when she was sixteen, and no wonder. These days he was a commanding figure, her staunchest supporter in all things, whether business or family matters. She loved Winston like a brother.

  As she sat back in her chair, sipping her champagne, Paula let her gaze finally rest on the son of one of her dearest friends, Julian. He had, in the last few minutes, edged closer to Linnet, and now they were speaking to each other quietly, standing a little apart from the others. How she wished she could hear what they were saying. Oh to be a fly on the wall, Paula thought, and hoped they were ending their silly separation, which had been Linnet’s idea. And not a very good one at that. Julian was already a member of the family by the very nature of his birth, and a full-blown member of the third clan; everyone liked and admired him.

  He was a truly nice young man–perhaps too nice in some ways–and he had many excellent qualities. He adored Linnet and always had, and because of this he was a little too submissive to her will, Paula thought. He’s so right for her, though, and he understands that she will have so much responsibility one day. Just as he will. And they have a shared history, the past, and their childhood that binds them together irrevocably. He is admirable, thoughtful, kind, intelligent, even a bit of an intellectual, and fun loving. The latter is so important for Linnet, who tends to be a workaholic.

  Suddenly, there he was, moving in her direction, coming across the floor in rapid strides, looking hell-bent and determined about…something. And something important at that, she decided, if the look on his face was anything to go by.

  Then he was hovering over her, tall, dark-haired, just like his father Michael, his eyes clear, bright blue and unblinking. Filled with the honesty and sincerity she had first seen there when he was only a child.

  Julian was a pleasant-looking young man, lean and slender…perhaps a little too thin right now, Paula thought. He was, as usual, well dressed in a dark blazer worn with dark grey trousers and a black turtleneck sweater.

  ‘I need to talk to you for a moment,’ Julian said, smiling down at her. ‘In private,’ he added softly.

  Paula nodded, stood up instantly, her hopes soaring unexpectedly. Perhaps he was going to speak to her and Shane about Linnet, about becoming engaged, and was testing the waters with her first before jumping in the deep end with Shane. But surely he knew they were all for this match…

  He interrupted her thoughts as he placed his hand under her elbow and led her across the Stone Hall to a quiet corner away from the fireplace, where everyone was gathered, talking amongst themselves as they sipped their drinks.

  ‘Let’s sit here for a moment.’ He indicated two straight-backed chairs, covered in tapestry, placed near a circular table.

  Once they were settled, she stared at him expectantly.

  Always straightforward and direct, Julian got right to the point. ‘My grandfather wondered if you could pop over to see him tomorrow? If you’re not too busy.’

  ‘Why, of course I’m not. But is something the matter? I know he’s not been feeling well.’ Her face clouded over with concern.

  ‘Oh he’s all right, suffering from a bit of rheumatism, and he’s had a bad cold. But Grandfather’s a tough old bird, don’t you know, and as sharp as he ever was. He actually wants to talk to you about…’ Julian broke off, leaned closer, lowered his voice and murmured sotto voce, ‘Jonathan Ainsley.’

  Paula stared at him disbelievingly, her body instantly stiffening. ‘Jonathan,’ she repeated. ‘What on earth could Uncle Ronnie have to say about him?’

  ‘Apparently your cousin has returned to England. Permanently. Grandfather heard through his bankers in the City that Jonathan plans to open a busi
ness in London.’

  For a moment she could not respond. She felt a trickle of apprehension run through her, and although she did not know it, she had turned considerably paler.

  ‘But is Uncle Ronnie sure of this?’ she asked at last. As the words left her mouth she knew the question was a foolish one. Ronald Kallinski, her wise rabbi ever since Emma’s death, always knew exactly what he was talking about.

  Julian nodded. ‘Oh yes, he’s quite sure. He feels for you and he needs to talk. He’s obviously not very happy about this sudden turn of events.’

  ‘Jonathan Ainsley can’t hurt me, or create problems with the company. I own fifty-four per cent of the stock, and that’s what matters in regard to the Harte stores. Even if he bought some of the stock that’s being traded on the London Stock Exchange it would be meaningless because I own the majority of the shares and control many more. And as far as the other companies are concerned, they’re all controlled by me, Winston, Emily and Amanda, privately held by the family. And as tight as a drum. Emma saw to that before she died. We are invulnerable. But you know all this, Julian,’ she pointed out, sounding confident and sure of herself. ‘We’ve never had any secrets within the three clans.’

  ‘I know, and I agree with you. On the other hand, Grandfather did sound rather concerned about the return of the dreaded Mr. Ainsley.’

  Paula laughed, then responded, ‘I’ll go and see him tomorrow, if only to reassure myself that he’s all right.’

  Julian gave her the benefit of a wide smile. ‘You’ve always worried about everyone for as long as I can remember. Linnet’s right when she says you’re a genuine earth mother. And look, I can come and get you tomorrow, drive you over to Harrogate to see Grandfather.’

  ‘Well, if you’re sure it’s no trouble.’ It suddenly occurred to her that she might easily use the opportunity to speak to him about Linnet.