Chapter Fourteen

‘There’s a man wanting you down in the foyer, Emma.’ Ruby burst into the room, eyes wide, a huge grin on her face that Emma had a gentleman caller.

Emma struggled to fix a smile on her own face and hoped her irritation at the interruption didn’t show. Sidney and Archie had just left the schoolroom, where she’d been testing them on their times-tables in French. Isabelle was asleep in the nursery. And Emma had thought to write again to Seth now that she had a few minutes to spare.

He had written to her to apologise for his bad manners down in Crystal Cove, and Emma had replied to say his apology was accepted – she understood how things must be for him over his father and his brothers.

‘A man?’

Seth knew the date of her birthday. Had he come to surprise her with a present? Flowers, perhaps?

‘Didn’t I just say, Emma Le Goff?’

‘Do you know who it is? Has he got black hair?’

‘No and no.’

‘What colour, then?’

‘I’m not saying. You’ll have to go and find out.’

Emma almost didn’t want to go downstairs, even though she thought Ruby might be teasing her. She didn’t want to find out that her visitor wasn’t Seth with a present for her. She wasn’t likely to get one from any other source, although Mr Smythe would know it was her birthday today if he looked at his staff records. And she hadn’t told Ruby because it might look as though she was asking for a present, and she knew Ruby didn’t have a spare halfpenny piece to buy anything.

What would her mama and papa have bought her for her birthday had they been alive, she wondered.

‘I’ve seen him here before a time or two,’ Ruby said, ‘and that’s all I’m saying. But I don’t know his name. And neither will you if you don’t go down and see what he wants, because he’ll get bored of waiting.’

‘Bossy boots,’ Emma said, smiling.

She gave Ruby a playful punch on the shoulder. She liked the girl – she was her only friend in the whole wide world at the moment. All the girls she’d known at school still shunned her when they saw her in the town – jealous, perhaps, at her good fortune in living at Nase Head House, albeit as an employee. And some of them had their own – wrong in this case – opinions on what exactly had gone on when Emma had lived under the same roof as Matthew Caunter. Well, she didn’t think she wanted to know any of them any more, anyway, if they were that small-minded. But to have only one friend?

Isabelle began to cry then.

‘Oh, no,’ Emma said. ‘I can’t go now. Mr Smythe hates it when the baby cries. He says it upsets the guests. They come here for peace and quiet and they don’t want a bawling baby.’

‘I’ll see to the baby,’ Ruby said. ‘I’ve seen to babies often enough with the half-dozen my ma had after me.’

‘Would you?’

‘Didn’t I just say? You’re a one for not believing things folk tell you, Emma Le Goff. Eve Grainger will ’ave to help me out today for a change and do a room or two for me while I’m with little Belle, seeing as I’m always doing ’er job for ’er when she goes sick. Now run a brush through your hair and go down and see what the tall, handsome man in the foyer wants of you.’

And with that Ruby marched off towards the crying Isabelle and Emma was left with no alternative but to go down to the foyer.

‘Matthew?’ she said, surprised that it was him.

‘The very same,’ Matthew said, grinning at her

Emma hurried towards him. ‘How did you know I was still here?’

‘I have my ways of knowing.’ Matthew laughed. ‘But to answer your question – and without giving away all my secrets – let’s just say that I’ve needed to contact Mr Smythe from time to time. I suggested to him you could be useful here and he assures me you are.’

‘Oh,’ Emma said. ‘He’s never said.’

‘And make that pretty little head of yours bigger?’ Matthew teased.

Emma wished he wouldn’t. He looked so different now from the man who had pretended to be a rough fisherman, always in clothes that stank of the sea and stale saltwater, barely taking time to shave or wash his hair. How smart he looked today, with a cravat at his neck and a handkerchief in the top pocket of his jacket.

She stopped in front of him, unsure as to what to do next. Shake hands? What was the form with married men one had once shared a home with? – even if she hadn’t known he was married when she’d first moved in with him.

Matthew had a broad grin on his face, his delight in seeing her obvious. ‘Give me a smile,’ he said. ‘Anyone would think you’re not pleased to see me.’

‘Oh, I am. I am,’ Emma said.

‘Good.’ Matthew clasped both her hands in his, then raised them to his lips, before letting go again.

‘This life is suiting you, Emma,’ he said. ‘You’ve filled out. You look well. Your hair shines.’

‘It does and it doesn’t suit.’

‘No one to dance with around this highly polished floor?’

‘Not since you, no,’ Emma said. She kept her voice as low as she could. Some guests were booking out at the desk with Mr Bell. Other guests were leaving the dining-room after breakfast, and Stephen Bailey hurried across the foyer to clear the tables. ‘But I didn’t mean the dancing. I meant it was suiting me fine until Mrs Smythe died. Now I’m looking after Isabelle until Mr Smythe can hire a nanny, but no one seems to want the position. And I hardly get any time to cook now.’

‘And you miss it?’

‘Yes.’

‘And I don’t suppose anyone here knows it’s your birthday today?’

‘No. No one. I’m surprised you remembered.’

‘I’m paid to remember things, Emma,’ Matthew said. ‘You did say when I asked how old you were that you’d be sixteen come Michaelmas and it’s Michaelmas today – 29th September.’

‘You’ve got a good memory.’

‘Got to have. It’s why I’m good at the job I do.’

‘Putting the Jagos behind bars. Seth told me they’ve been sentenced.’

‘Yes. It’s why I’m back. There are a few things to be cleared up …’

‘Nothing to do with coming to see me on my birthday, then?’ Emma said, trying to make a joke of it, desperate to get off the subject of the Jagos.

‘Shall I go back out and come in again? Maybe you’ll be pleased to see me a second time, seeing as I’m here bearing gifts and no one else seems to be?’

‘I’m sorry. It’s just …’

‘I’m not the man you’d hoped to see?’

‘I’m glad to see you, of course I am.’

‘But I’m not Seth Jago?’

‘How did … oh.’ Emma stopped speaking as Matthew tapped the side of his nose. He was still working undercover, wasn’t he? Perhaps he’d even seen her and Seth going down to Crystal Cove? Seen them kiss?

‘Seth Jago’s got a lot on his plate and on his mind at the moment. Be patient, Emma,’ Matthew said. ‘Not your finest virtue, I know …’

‘Have you come here to insult me?’ Emma said, suddenly bridling.

Matthew laughed. ‘You’ve not lost your spark, I see. But no, I didn’t come here to insult you. I’ve brought you something.’

He walked over to the desk, on which sat a small parcel wrapped in red paper all tied up with a wide silver ribbon.

He picked it up and held it out towards Emma. ‘Happy birthday.’

Emma took the parcel and hurriedly tore off the wrapping. Inside was a small wooden box, the lid exquisitely carved with a spray of roses and tiny leaves. In one corner was the letter E.

‘You made this?’ Emma asked. She knew Matthew was clever with his hands. But to have made something just for her.

‘I did.’

‘Why?’

‘Does there have to be a reason?’

‘I think so,’ Emma said. ‘Married men shouldn’t be making things for young girls.’

Matthew shrugged. ‘I’ve got a lot to thank you for,’ he said. ‘You walked into my life like a whirlwind and I thought my cover would be blown as a Customs Officer, but it was quite the opposite. The immediate neighbours and the Jago crews were far more interested in what I might have been getting up to with you in Shingle Cottage than they were in wondering what exactly I was doing here.’

‘We were mutually useful,’ Emma said. ‘Even though I didn’t realise that at the time.’

‘So you understand?’

‘I do now,’ Emma said. She hugged the box to her. ‘Thank you for this.’

‘Aren’t you going to open it?’

‘There’s something else?’

Slowly Emma opened the box. She felt her throat close over and tears sprang to her eyes. Her mama’s necklace. Her mama’s amethyst necklace. The one that had been taken from around the neck of poor dead Sophie Ellison and which had been dangling in the cleavage of Reuben Jago’s floosie not so long ago. But still she was thrilled to have it.

Carefully, Emma took it from the box, let the fine chain slip through her fingers until only the amethyst was in the palm of her hand, hard and cool and precious against her skin. ‘How did you get it back?’

‘Let’s just say I called in a few favours with various legal bodies,’ Matthew said.

‘Then I’m glad you did,’ Emma said. ‘Thank you.’

‘My pleasure. And now perhaps you could get your coat and anything else you might need because we are going out.’

‘Out?’ Emma said.

‘Still doubting what people tell you, I see,’ Matthew said, smiling, his eyes holding hers, challenging. ‘But yes, out. I’m treating you to lunch – for your birthday. We’ll be out for most of the day.’

‘Oh, but I can’t. There’s baby Isabelle. I’ve left her with Ruby and …’

Matthew’s gaze had strayed from Emma’s. He raised a hand in greeting, and Emma turned and saw that it was Mr Smythe coming down the west staircase.

Emma had run out of words now. Mr Smythe was never going to let her just go out for the day when there was his daughter to care for.

‘Matthew,’ Mr Smythe said. He hurried down the last few steps and strode across the tiled floor. The two men shook hands.

‘Thank you for my present, Matthew,’ Emma said. ‘Really. It’s the best present I could ever have.’ She turned to Mr Smythe. ‘I’ll get back to Isabelle now. I’ve left her with Ruby.’

‘Then she can stay with Ruby,’ Mr Smythe said. ‘Now go and spend your birthday with Matthew as we’ve arranged.’

‘Arranged?’ Emma said.

‘Why else do you think he is here?’ Mr Smythe asked.

Emma didn’t know what to say. She looked to Matthew for guidance, but he said nothing. The kindness in his eyes was almost more than Emma could bear – she guessed now that he had arranged this, her first birthday without her parents and Johnnie, especially so she would feel their loss a little less.

Mr Smythe put a hand inside the jacket of his suit and pulled out a leather wallet; dark leather the colour of ebony almost, but with ginger tints in it. It seemed to be bulging with notes. Emma had never seen leather like it – she wondered what it might be, but now wasn’t the time to ask.

Mr Smythe took out two white £5 notes and held them out towards Emma. ‘A thank you for stepping into the breach, caring for Isabelle, keeping the boys up to scratch with their French …’

His voice trailed away. He sounded and looked so sad. Broken almost. It was on the tip of Emma’s tongue to say she couldn’t possibly accept all that money, and she knew Matthew had read her mind because he put a finger to his lips – don’t say a word, Emma, the gesture said.

‘Take it,’ Mr Smythe said. He waggled the notes at Emma.

She did as she was told.

‘Thank you. I’ll look for something nice and bring you the change,’ she said. How crisp and new the notes felt between her fingers.

‘You won’t,’ Mr Smythe said, looking up. ‘You will spend it all. I know I’ve been sharp with you when I shouldn’t have been and I apologise for that …’

‘You don’t have to,’ Emma said. She looked into Mr Smythe’s handsome but tired face, and saw that his eyes were glistening with tears. ‘I understand. I know what it’s like to be sharp when you don’t mean to because you’re so sad and …’

‘Emma,’ Matthew interrupted. ‘Your coat. And anything else you need. Mr Smythe knew I was coming and it’s all agreed.’

‘Someone might …’ Emma began.

She was going to say ‘have told me’ but thought better of it. Hadn’t Dr Shaw told her that we can’t always plan things for ourselves and have hopes and dreams, and that sometimes it’s better to make the best of the situations we find ourselves in? She had two £5 notes in her hand, and Matthew – who she liked very much – wanting to spoil her on her birthday. And a few hours without a squalling and often very smelly baby to look after would be bliss.

‘Two minutes,’ Emma said, starting to run to her room to fetch her things. She stopped, turned back to Matthew. ‘No, make that five minutes. I’ll need to change from these work things if I’m going out. Don’t go without me.’ Then she sped towards the bottom of the stairs.

And the last thing she heard as she scooted along the landing towards the next flight of stairs was Matthew saying, ‘That girl,’ and his deep, booming laugh.

‘Torquay?’ Emma said as Matthew took her arm and led her along the quayside to the small ferry that plied across the bay. Mostly it took fish and cabbages to the shops and restaurants, but in the summer months the skipper had started to capitalise on the burgeoning tourist trade and took fare-paying passengers, too.

Like Rome, Torquay was said to be built on seven hills. And her father had once said that gazing at it across the water, Torquay looked to him like Monte Carlo – only more green.

‘More potential for you to spend your money in Torquay,’ Matthew said. ‘More shops.’

‘I don’t know that I do want to spend it,’ Emma said as they reached the ferry. She glanced at Matthew and saw him raise his eyebrows in surprise, and a little smile began to form at the corner of his mouth. Emma thought how lucky his wife was to be married to him. And if his wife knew he was taking her to Torquay, spending the day with her, maybe flirting with her a little.

The skipper greeted Matthew like an old friend. ‘Matthew Caunter, you old dog. What brings you here this time?’

‘Adam,’ Matthew said, shaking the ferryman’s hand.

‘And who might the lovely young lady be?’ Adam asked.

‘A friend of mine. Miss Emma Le Goff.’

‘Then any friend of Caunter’s is a friend of mine.’

The ferryman extended a hand and Emma took it, allowed him to help her into the boat. Red sails hung like wet washing against the mast.

‘For a fisherman’s daughter I’m a novice sailor,’ Emma said. ‘I hope I won’t be sick.’

‘Today?’ Adam said. ‘It’s like a mirror out there. We’re going to have to row out a few hundred yards to pick up any breeze at all to sail. But we’ll need to move quick, or we’ll miss the tide.’

And with that Matthew leapt aboard, too. Emma settled herself on a seat and glanced at the handful of passengers. All seemed very well-dressed. None made eye contact and one couple spoke to one another in whispers behind their hands.

‘Were they talking about her? Emma didn’t care if they were. She was feeling happy – something she hadn’t felt in quite a while now. Even the sadness of not seeing Seth today couldn’t dent that happiness – well, not much. As the ferry went through the harbour entrance Emma looked around to see if she could see him on one of the Jago boats, but couldn’t. She felt something like relief flood through her that Seth hadn’t seen her with Matthew and her shoulders dropped from somewhere around her ears.

The last thing she wanted to do was hurt Seth in some way, what with all he had on his mind at the moment.

‘We’re meeting my wife at The Lanterns for lunch,’ Matthew said.

The ferry had been tied to a bollard, the other passengers had gone ashore and were already hurrying along the quay to whatever it was they were going to do to fill their day.

Emma gazed up towards the villas at the top of the hill – they were huge and imposing. A narrow path zigzagged its way up the hill amongst palm trees. There were more cars here than she’d ever seen in one place at a time before. Smarter carriages, too. More well-groomed horses. This was a rich man’s resort indeed. And now she was here. How very exciting.

‘Did you say we’re meeting your wife?’

Emma felt her little bubble of excitement deflate a little.

‘Are you hard of hearing or something, Emma Le Goff?’ Matthew quipped. ‘I always have to say everything twice to you. Yes. My wife. She’s called Annie.’

‘Why didn’t she come to Nase Head House with you, then?’

‘You and your questions.’ Matthew wagged a finger at her, but jokingly. ‘She had some things she wanted to shop for alone. Don’t ask me what – shopping’s a woman’s prerogative.’ He laughed. ‘She came up with me from Slapton on the carrier’s cart. But she came on here by rail. She doesn’t like being on the water.’

Matthew jumped onto the landing steps and held out a hand to Emma to help her ashore. Then he looked back towards Adam who touched a finger to the side of his nose. And in that instant Emma knew why Matthew had called for her and brought her to Torquay by ferry. Without his wife.

‘You were spying on something. Or someone. Weren’t you?’ she whispered. ‘If you’re using me again, Matthew Caunter, I’ll …’

‘I’m not using you. Trust me. You trusted me enough to stay in Shingle Cottage alone with me, so trust me now. You’re sixteen now, Emma, not a child. Please stop acting like one.’

Matthew seemed to have taken on the role of her father without anyone asking him to and Emma was itching to tell him so. But then she fingered the amethyst at her throat. It came to her then that maybe he might have put himself and his professional reputation at risk in getting it back for her.

Emma nodded. ‘I’ll try.’

‘And just in case you think I’m coming the heavy-handed father with you, I’m not. As I told you once – and it was the truth – had you been older and we’d met in different circumstances then …’

‘Then you’d better forget you even thought that if we’re meeting your wife for lunch.’

Torquay was laid out before her, ready for her to explore, and she was going to do her best to enjoy it all.

‘It’s been a lovely day,’ Emma said.

Much to her surprise she’d liked Matthew’s wife, Annie, very much. Annie was much younger than Emma had thought she would be – nearer her own age than Matthew’s. And the two women had giggled their way through the racks of clothes in Rockheys and Williams & Cox, and Bobby’s.

Annie had picked out a dress for Emma in the prettiest of greens – chartreuse. It had a self-coloured belt and tiny pearly buttons running from throat to waist. And it flared out deliciously around Emma’s ankles, feeling wonderful where it swished against her calves as she spun round for Annie to admire it some more. And then they’d cooed over shoes in shop windows until Emma had seen a pair she really loved and Annie had insisted she go in and try them on. And buy them. And a bag to match. And then some earrings – pearls – had been bought in Hadleighs, only the most expensive jeweller in the whole of Torquay.

Lunch had been eaten in the restaurant of The Lanterns hotel. Lobster soup and chicken poached in white wine followed by a pudding Emma hadn’t gone much on – too heavy and doughy and not at all right after such a delicate main course.

She’d shocked Matthew and Annie by asking to speak to the manager. Then asking him if he would be interested in French pastries and tarts, the pastry crumble-soft and butter-scented.

‘At a later date,’ Emma had finished. ‘My business is only a fledgling one at the moment.’

And she and Annie had giggled together at Matthew’s discomfiture. But it had sown more seeds in Emma’s mind about what she really wanted to do with her life. She could see herself with a small hotel that served only the best of everything. Sometime. Sometime in the future.

‘Annie enjoyed it, too,’ Matthew said.

They’d all come back together on the train. Annie had declined the short, but very steep, climb up to Nase Head House from the station. Her feet really ached, she said, from all the walking around the shops and she’d wait for Matthew to deliver Emma safely to the hotel. She would sit in the Ladies Waiting Room at the station until his return.

‘You can leave me here,’ Emma said when they reached the gateway to Nase Head House. ‘You’d best get back to Annie. No harm’s going to come to me between here and the front door.’

‘I hope not,’ Matthew said. ‘But I’ll see you inside. I promised Rupert I’d deliver you back safe and sound.’

He slipped a hand under Emma’s elbow and guided her up the steep drive. At the top of the steps Emma turned towards him and said, ‘Annie’s lovely. Don’t upset her any more by taking on dangerous covert jobs.’

‘I won’t, bossy boots. In fact this could well be the last time we see one another – you and me. Today, I was finalising one last job. Annie and I are leaving for America soon.’

Matthew pushed open the double doors and ushered Emma inside, all Emma’s carriers of purchases dangling from his other hand.

‘At the risk of you thinking I’m deaf or disbelieving, I have to ask – America?’

‘Yes. So, this is probably goodbye, Emma.’

Goodbye? For one silly moment Emma had harboured thoughts of doubling up her list of friends to include Annie. But it wasn’t going to be.

On impulse she turned to face Matthew, put her arms around his neck and kissed his cheek. ‘Thank you, thank you for a wonderful day, and well … for everything.’

It was thanks to Matthew she had the roof of Nase Head House over her head. She was sad that she probably wouldn’t see him ever again, of course she was. But she would never forget him.

Matthew kissed her on the forehead. Put his free hand to the back of her head.

And that’s when she saw Seth.

He was sitting on the leather seat in the centre of the foyer. He had a bunch of roses in one hand and a large parcel wrapped in pink paper in the other. He seemed to freeze on the spot. Their eyes met – hers and Seth’s – and even with a good few yards distance between them Emma could see the pain and hurt and loss in Seth’s eyes. Seth stood up and, without looking at her, marched straight past and out through the double doors, his gifts hanging one in each hand at his sides.

Oh, if only she’d insisted Matthew leave her outside the hotel. She had a feeling that as well as this being the last time she would see Matthew, it would probably be a very, very long time before she would see Seth again, either.

‘You’re not the only woman around!’ Seth yelled across the inky water of the harbour. A gull, head tucked down in sleep, fluttered on the rim of a rowing boat, startled momentarily by Seth’s shout, but settled down again.

He looked back up towards Nase Head House where lights were still on. He shook his head to try and banish the picture he had in it of Emma kissing Matthew Caunter, but couldn’t. And then that kiss Matthew had given Emma so tenderly on her forehead. They were probably still in there, arms entwined, and he’d been forgotten by them both.

Seth considered taking a boat out in the darkness – letting it drift with him in it – even though after only a few minutes he felt sick whenever he was on the water. Well, he was feeling pretty sick about things anyway at the moment – what difference could a bit of motion sickness make? He’d have a pint or two in The Blue Anchor. And some female company. There’d be plenty of women in there who, for the exchange of a few florins, would permit him their favours if he was so inclined as to accept them. It looked as though his brothers had been right about him wasting his time on Emma after all, didn’t it? But that didn’t mean he had to behave like them.

Emma had looked so happy and glowing coming back with Caunter that he thought he might explode with rage and thump the living daylights out of the man. But what good would that have done? It would only have set him fairly and squarely in the same camp as his brothers and his pa, wouldn’t it?

Seth turned, kicked a discarded beer bottle into the water, and headed for the inn. If his future was going to be without Emma Le Goff, then so be it.