me what’s going on,’ she begged, looking to him pleadingly.
It was Tasha. She knew it. The woman had destroyed things the first time around and she was set to do it again. He’d seen her… recently and not said a word.
Guy opened his eyes. The expression of pain, sorrow and pure hopelessness clawed at her heart. Whatever he was going to tell her was going to rip her world apart.
Chapter Fifty-Five
5 September 2005
Today was the day and Emma had much more than butterflies in her stomach. It was as if a whole colony of bees had invaded and were building a giant honeycomb inside her. Her dad thought they were going home together to that death-tainted house for him to move in his girlfriend and for things to carry on as before, just minus her mother. In reality, she was running away to get married to a boy she had known just a few weeks. It wouldn’t be easy, but the thought of striking out on their own filled her with excitement rather than fear.
She watched her dad taking down the tent, canvas covering his head as he removed another pole.
‘Do you want some help?’ she offered.
‘Thanks, love,’ Mike replied.
She ducked under the tent and helped hold the material up. It was roasting hot under the material, the autumnal sun touching everything in its reach.
‘What time do we have to leave?’ Emma asked.
‘I thought about two. Is that alright with you?’ Mike replied.
‘Yes, of course. I was just checking. I thought I might catch the wig-wam building this morning,’ Emma said. In truth she was meeting Guy with a bag she’d hidden in the shower block to pass it over and finalise the details of their escape. They’d planned to leave at one. Guy had bought a cheap car from someone he knew. He’d already packed for him and Luc, taken the case and bags to the barn. They were really going to do this.
‘Wig-wam building. That sounds like a caper. Once I’m packed up here I might come and have a look too,’ Mike said, pulling out the last pole. The canvas fell about them and Emma’s stomach lurched. She didn’t want her dad leaving the camping area really.
‘Are you alright, love? You look a bit peaky,’ Mike remarked as they both backed out from under the tent.
‘Just a bit of stomach-ache that’s all. It’s the end of the holiday and… we’re going back home,’ she said. She hated lying but she had to. Her dad would be OK. He had Marilyn.
‘Things will get better, love. And, who knows, if I work hard, we might be able to afford to come back here next year,’ Mike stated, smiling.
She couldn’t bear it anymore. She needed to see Guy, needed reassurance that this was the right path, that their love was enough to change everything.
‘I’d better go, if that’s OK,’ Emma said, backing away.
‘Of course, love. If I don’t make it I’ll see you back here about half one. We can stop off for some lunch on the way to the ferry,’ Mike told her.
This was it. This was the moment she was leaving her dad. He was there, rolling up the tent, oblivious to the poignancy. What should she do? Should she just back away? Leave without saying anything? She didn’t want him to know but she also didn’t want him to think the decision had been made without care or consideration when he looked back on things.
‘I love you, Dad,’ she said, tears pricking her eyes.
Mike looked up then. The intimate statement was not a usual occurrence in their family. Emotions were buried deep and not often exclaimed.
‘You sure you’re alright, love?’ he asked. He didn’t sound suspicious, just concerned. She needed to leave now. She’d said enough.
‘I’m fine… Jane Eyre,’ she said as explanation.
‘Those Brontë girls again.’ Mike shook his head. Emma smiled and waved her hand.
‘I’ll tell you all about the wig-wams.’ She lowered her voice. ‘One day.’
*
Her heart was heavier than she could have imagined. Why was it so hard? She wanted to move on with Guy, didn’t want to be in a house with her dad and Marilyn, but something inside her was breaking. She looked at her watch. Guy should be here. She jumped down from the gate and looked up the path. He wasn’t in sight. Where was he?
‘Lost someone?’
Staring up the path one way had caused Emma not to notice the approach of Tasha’s sidekick, Melody.
‘No,’ Emma snapped in response.
‘Because if you