that,’ Chris said. He nudged her again.
If the elbowing continued all night she would end up with bruised ribs and a week wearing Deep Heat.
‘We’ll see,’ she answered like Chris was one of her schoolchildren.
‘We’ll see?! It’s a fantastic opportunity to learn from a real master. This guy plays for his country, Em, not to mention now playing for my favourite team, the Whites,’ Chris continued.
‘Dominic is your son?’ Guy asked.
‘Emma’s son,’ Chris replied with a grin. ‘But I love the little fella to bits.’
‘How old is Dominic?’ Guy asked.
‘He’s—’ Chris started.
‘He’s in Year Three,’ Emma interrupted quickly.
‘Loves football, doesn’t he, Em?’ Chris said, his right elbow connecting with her side again.
Emma raised her head and met Guy’s gaze with a nod. She knew what he was thinking and now she felt sick.
*
He gritted his teeth together and put the napkin to his face to hide his mouth. Was her son seven or eight? He was finding it hard to breathe. Emma had had a baby, a son – was Dominic his son? Had she just told him he was a father without having to say a single word?
Chapter Eight
She’d excused herself as soon as there was opportunity. Every time he’d tried to get her to look at him she had either turned away from him or to that man, her boyfriend. He couldn’t keep making polite conversation with him and the councillor. All that was running through his head was the thought he might have a child. He was ecstatic and furious at the same time. The one thing he was certain of was they had to talk.
‘Mosquitoes,’ Kathleen Dobbs announced, stubbing out her cigarillo into one of the ashtrays on the table.
‘Sorry?’ Emma answered, waving the smoke away from her face and clutching a little tighter to her wine glass.
‘I’ve been far, far afield and despite what people say there’s nothing as irritating as a British mosquito. They’re silent, they’re sneaky and they think nothing of sucking up your food before they attack,’ she continued, her eyes weaving from side to side as if trying to single insects out.
‘Have you been bitten? I think I have some antiseptic cream in my bag,’ Emma said, unfastening the zip and rummaging.
‘Oh no, dear, I have repellent. Just commenting on their devious ways. The Mayor over there, he’s been itching for a good five minutes,’ Kathleen remarked.
‘It’s humid,’ Emma said, peering over her shoulder and hoping not to see Guy.
She had left him and Chris at the table having an in-depth discussion about television replays for penalty decisions. She’d been glad to get out of the air-conditioned room because, muggy or not, the outside atmosphere was decidedly cooler.
‘Are you alright, dear?’ Kathleen asked her, scrutinising her instead of the flying insects.
‘Me? Oh yes! Of course! It’s been a lovely evening and the food was wonderful,’ Emma began, tears pricking her eyes. The explosion of excitement she had attempted in her voice was far from convincing.
‘I hear you’re thinking of staging Copacabana at the school. Believe it or not, I was once a Lola,’ Kathleen informed. Her eyes twinkled.
‘Well, nothing’s decided quite yet,’ Emma began. She swallowed in a bid to stop the tears from escaping.
‘If you need any help with costumes I would be only too happy to…’ Kathleen began.
There he was! Guy. He was coming towards her from across the decking. He had a glass of red wine in each hand. Emma closed her eyes and clamped down on her tongue to try and prevent her taste buds recollecting Camembert and a soft Merlot.
‘Those damn insects! I swear they’re getting immune to DEET! I’m seeking cover. Don’t stay out too long, dear, not if you value your skin,’ Kathleen said, hurrying to the doors.
She felt like she was waiting for her turn at the gallows. He was steps away, moving towards her and there was nowhere to run. Her only escape route would involve a James Bond-esque vault from the railings into the lazy river. Even she knew that was ridiculous.
‘I have some wine,’ Guy said, holding a glass out to her.
‘Is it Merlot?’ she asked on autopilot.
It was like going back in time. She felt seventeen again.
‘You remember,’ Guy said. The smile that crossed his lips was one of almost relief.
‘Of course I remember!’ Emma shrieked ‘You made me think I was special. Then you humiliated me!’
That voice wasn’t hers. It was almost like a battle cry. A noise from deep within her, full of anger and despair.
Guy closed