The Silent Tide (49 page)

The minutes passed. She was still reading when she heard footsteps on the stairs and Joel’s voice speaking to someone below. Quickly she clicked to close the document, and waited an agonisingly long time for it to disappear from the screen. She moved away from the computer just as Joel entered the room.

‘God, that was a waste of a morning.’ He regarded her curiously, standing before him, an uncertain-looking figure engulfed by his towelling robe. ‘Are you OK?’

‘Yes, of course,’ she said hurriedly, but she wasn’t really. It was as though she was seeing him for the first time. He looked different, unfamiliar, and yet there was nothing about his physical appearance that could be said to have changed. He was as good-looking as ever, with that same air of self-possession that she had once found so charismatic, but in the space of his short absence he’d lost all attraction for her. Her feelings had changed. How had that happened?

‘All that way for five minutes’ air time,’ he went on. He spied the envelope on the worktop and picked it up.

‘I heard it, of course,’ she said, recovering herself. ‘You were good. Well, except you didn’t do her justice. Isabel, I mean.’

Her wan tone made him put down the envelope and move to embrace her, but she stepped aside. She had to have this out with him once and for all.

‘Emily,’ he said gently. ‘Don’t keep on worrying about Isabel. It was a five-minute interview. I can hardly put all the subtleties into that. They want soundbites.’

‘I know. But it’s not just the radio programme, is it?’ she said, her voice trembling. ‘It’s the whole book. All I wanted was for you to tell the truth.’

‘I do tell the truth. As I keep explaining, I couldn’t corroborate the memoir, don't you see? And all this stuff about Lorna giving it to Lydia to give to you to give to me, it is a little crazy, don’t you think?’

‘Joel, answer me this: have you actually shown the memoir to Jacqueline and asked her opinion?’

He blustered, and she said again, ‘Have you?’

‘No.’ He was angry now. ‘No, I haven’t. Emily, you haven’t had to deal with Jacqueline like I have. She’s like a block of stone about Isabel. There would be a hell of a row if I were to give her those ramblings. She’d never let me use them.’

‘Oh, Joel!’ she cried. ‘What shall I tell Lydia? Lorna will be devastated if her mother’s story isn’t told. Surely she has a say?’

‘Emily, Lorna was a baby when her mother left. She didn’t know Isabel like Jacqueline did. And you’d think she’d show more loyalty to Jacqueline, who brought her up.’

'She has tried to be loyal, but she's conflicted, don't you see? You could look into the matter deeper in the book, mention Isabel's journal as giving insight. Surely, Jacqueline wouldn't mind that.'

'How do you know I haven't?' ne answered, sullen.

'I do know you haven't,' she shot back.

'How?' He glanced at his laptop, the glowing screen telling its own story. 'You mean you've gone into my computer and looked?'

She nodded quickly.

'Without asking me?' He stared at her in disbelief as she nodded again. 'Unbelievable.'

'I would have seen it sometime, anyway.'

'When I chose to deliver it to you, you would,' he said, in a voice of steel.

'I know, I'm sorry. It was frustration. I had to know '

'You've got yourself too involved in Isabel. Why are you so obsessed with her, Emily?'

'I don't know.' She thought for a moment. 'I suppose it's that I feel I know her. And that she's a little bit like me.' Yes, that was it.

'And what about me? Don't I matter? I'm the one who's writing this book, and I thought you trusted me.' He picked up the envelope again and tore it open so violently that the paper inside swooped to the floor. They both reached for it. Emily got there first.

Trust, she thought as she picked it up. That was what was lacking between them. She didn't trust him. And now he didn't trust her.

She stared down at the item in her hand. There was a small compliments slip pinned to a cheque. And the amount on the cheque-- her eyes widened-- was ten thousand pounds.
For delivery as agreed
, was written on the slip.
With grateful thanks, Jacqueline Morton
.

'Can I have that, please?' Joel commanded, stepping forward. Wordlessly, she passed it to him. So, Jacqueline was paying him. No wonder he didn't want to offend her by writing about Isabel.

He glanced at the cheque and laid it on the worktop. 'I know what you're thinking,' he said. 'And I should have told you about it. She offered to top up the advance Parchment paid me, that's all. She's grateful and wanted to be kind.' All the energy had gone out of him now. He looked defeated. She realised she felt nothing for him anymore except a sort of pity.

'You're right,' she whispered, sinking onto the sofa, desolate. 'You should have told me. At least now I understand. Ouch!'

Her hand struck something sharp that was caught down the side of the sofa cushion. She shifted to look, pulled out the object and examined it. It was a large hair-comb with a clip and a pink feathery decoration. Not anything she would ever wear. After a second it came to her where she'd seen it before. It was Anna's--the blonde woman downstairs with the tap she couldn't turn off.

'I wonder how this got there,' she said lightly, standing and holding it out to him. He looked down at it with a frozen expression on his face.

I--it's not what you think,' he started to say, but she didn't want to hear any more. She laid the comb down on top of the cheque.

'I'd better get dressed,' she said, trying to stop her voice wobbling. 'I'm sorry, Joel, but it's probably time I left.'

Emily

Three months later

There could be no doubt that Jacqueline Morton was more frail now than when Emily had last seen her, almost a year ago. The old lady stooped and had to lean on a stick as she and Emily followed Lorna into the dining room at Stone House. There they found Joel scribbling a note on one of many sections of manuscript he’d arranged round him at the table. Seeing Emily, he rose and came to greet her.

‘Hello,’ she said quietly, shaking his hand. She met his nervous gaze with a direct and friendly one and he looked relieved. It was the first time they’d met face-to-face since the day she had walked out of his flat. They’d been in contact since then, they’d had to because of the book, first by text, then in a cool, but remarkably civilised phone call, during which they both found that they were willing to continue working together. He’d delivered the manuscript to her by email the week before.

She had been surprised, but grateful, that they’d snapped back into a professional relationship so easily. After the break-up she’d been upset, of course, but not as badly as she’d been after Matthew. It was clear to her now that the relationship had been on the rebound from Matthew and largely based on physical attraction. She’d been charmed by Joel and the world he moved in. Now she knew that all those things were of little importance since she couldn’t trust him in all sorts of ways. She wondered about Joel’s feelings. He’d never said he loved her and she sensed he wasn’t hurt much, except perhaps for his dignity. On the whole they were both best out of it. The worst of it, though, was that she found herself mourning Matthew with a freshness she hadn’t believed possible. Thank heavens work was so busy at the moment – it stopped her dwelling on her unhappy personal life.

‘Come and sit here by me,’ Jacqueline commanded. Emily found herself set opposite Joel, with Jacqueline at the head of the table between them, a position that implied control. Today, however, Emily was determined not to let her dominate. She and Lydia had met up as planned and had decided on a new way of putting pressure on Jacqueline.

‘I’ll make coffee,’ Lorna said brightly from the doorway and went out to the kitchen.

‘Shall we make a start?’ Jacqueline suggested.

‘Won’t Lorna be joining us?’ Emily asked in her mildest voice.

Jacqueline contemplated Emily for a moment. ‘If you think she ought to, then I don’t see why not.’

‘I think she should.’ She was surprised that this first part of Lydia’s plan had worked without a fight. Perhaps Jacqueline really wasn’t as hearty as she used to be.

After a conversation with Lydia a week or so before, Emily had come here determined to take charge. Not that she’d be rude about anything, indeed they’d decided that charm often worked best.

Thank you so much for having me here,’ she told Jacqueline now whilst they were waiting for Lorna. ‘I know you and Joel have been discussing the script so I thought it might be useful to have me too. Joel, is the draft you’ve got there the same as the one you sent me?’ It was important that this was clarified.

‘Yes, of course,’ he said, guarded.

‘I’ve read it twice now,’ Jacqueline said. ‘I must say you’ve done a splendid job, Joel.’

Joel smiled his thanks, but still looked wary.

‘Yes, it’s magnificent,’ Emily told him. ‘And I sent you both that complimentary report from the Cambridge professor. Joel, you’re so good on Hugh Morton as a writer, but I got a real sense of him as a man, too. Not that I ever met him,’ she added hastily. ‘You’re the expert there, Jacqueline.’

Jacqueline gave a gracious nod of acknowledgment. ‘One only ever sees one side of people, even when you know them very well, but I think Hugh would have been pleased. Yes, very pleased. There are a number of points I’ve been raising with Joel. I expect that you’ll have a few, too, Emily.’

‘Yes, I’ve got my list here.’ Emily brought her copy of the script out of her bag together with some typed notes. ‘I think Joel showed you earlier drafts of the book too, didn’t he, so I hope I won’t be going over old ground.’

Joel, looking from one woman to the other, caught the implication. Emily might be reopening dangerous areas. He mumbled, ‘Jacqueline has been kind enough to give me advice from time to time.’

‘Hardly kind – I asked to see it,’ Jacqueline said, at her most imperious.

‘Well then,’ Emily said with a crocodile smile, ‘perhaps there won’t be very much more that you’ll want to raise.’

‘There are one or two matters,’ Jacqueline said, ‘but perhaps we should consider your concerns first?’

She put out her hand for the notes, but Emily stayed her. ‘Shall we just wait for Lorna? I’d really like her views.’

As well as to Lydia, Emily had spoken to her boss, Gillian, about this whole conundrum, telling her how uncomfortable she was with the amount of control Hugh Morton’s widow had over this book. Gillian was less bothered than Emily, though, and reminded her that the biography was being advertised as authorised by Morton’s estate, and that permission to quote from Hugh’s books and private papers was completely dependent on Jacqueline’s agreement. ‘You must try to negotiate with her, but if she’s not happy there’ll be no book at all,’ was Gillian’s view. This calmed Emily’s fears a little, but did not dampen her sense of mission.

Emily then explained to her about Isabel and the memoir. Gillian was fascinated, particularly about the connection with Lydia, whom she knew only slightly. ‘If you could persuade Jacqueline and Joel to put more in about Isabel, then that would add saleability to the book. What’s it like otherwise?’

‘Really good. Joel writes so vividly and analyses the books so interestingly. It’s just he’s put in so little about Isabel. It’s very frustrating.’

Emily remembered that the conversation had ended with Gillian telling her she wanted to have lunch with her soon to talk something over. It was typical of Gillian to make the whole thing sound ominous so she was left worried.

At last Lorna returned with a heavy tray. She poured coffee into fragile cups.

‘Emily would like you to stay Lorna,’ Jacqueline said. ‘She thinks you might be useful.’

Jacqueline and her stepdaughter regarded one another intently. ‘Thank you,’ Lorna said quietly and sat down next to Emily.

‘Now, if you wouldn’t mind looking at these.’ Emily handed round copies of her notes. Jacqueline ran her finger down the first page, and opened her mouth to speak, but Emily got there first.

‘Jacqueline and Lorna, I could have emailed these notes to Joel and asked him to discuss them with you, but since there are one or two delicate matters I wanted to raise, I thought it would be easier for us all to discuss them face-to-face.’

‘I’m sure you’re right,’ Jacqueline murmured. ‘Though these are very minor points.’

‘The ones on the first page are,’ Emily agreed, ‘but there’s something bigger I want to talk about. First of all, I’d like to repeat what a fabulous job Joel has done with this book.’

‘I’m longing to read it,’ Lorna said. Joel and Emily looked at one another, surprised.

‘Of course, I want you to,’ Jacqueline replied quickly. ‘But it wasn’t worth you seeing early drafts.’

‘I didn’t know you hadn’t read it,’ Emily said. ‘Jacqueline, don’t you think it necessary that Lorna does? She is after all an interested party.’

‘I was going to give it to her when it was ready.’ The old woman’s hand shook, rattling the cup as she replaced it in its saucer.

‘Mother, I’d like to read it now, please.’

Jacqueline shot Lorna a look Emily read as
Don’t Embarrass Me by Arguing in Public
and was shocked that Lorna, a woman of sixty, should be bullied in this way.

‘There is something that is particularly relevant to Lorna. Gillian and I . . .’ Emily said, hoping her boss would not mind being used to bolster her argument, ‘are surprised that there’s so little in the book about Isabel. We’re left with an unbalanced feel, given what we know, that Isabel was married to Hugh, and was Lorna’s mother.’

She and Lorna exchanged smiles.

‘And what is more, there does seem to be plenty of evidence that Isabel directly inspired the character of Nanna in
The Silent Tide,
Hugh’s most important novel.’

‘What do you mean by evidence?’ Jacqueline asked, looking thoroughly put out. ‘Isabel wasn’t a newspaper journalist like Nanna, she worked for a publisher. And Hugh can hardly be said to have killed Isabel.’