The From Paris With Love And Regency Season Of Secrets Ultimate Collection. Кэрол Мортимер
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this new Emmy didn’t have a smart-aleck mouth. She didn’t snipe, and she wasn’t cynical and hard-bitten like the Emmy Jacobs he was used to.
Which one was the real Emmy? he wondered. Was she letting her guard down and letting him see the real her? Or was this just some kind of mirage and Spiky Emmy would return to drive him crazy?
They stopped at the café in the park, and Emmy asked for a jug of hot water to heat Tyler’s milk. While she found them a table, he bought the coffees. He’d seen her looking longingly at the cinnamon pastries, so he bought her one of those as well.
‘That’s really kind of you,’ she said when he brought the tray over to their table.
But her eyes were full of anguish. What was going on here? ‘What’s wrong?’ he asked.
She sighed. ‘I struggle with my weight. And no, that isn’t your cue to tell me that I’m fine as I am. My job’s pretty sedentary, so I only manage to keep my weight under control because I go to an exercise class three times a week. But things have changed, now, and I’m not going to have time for classes anymore. I haven’t been since the week before Ally and Pete went to Venice.’
‘You miss your classes?’
She shrugged. ‘I’ll manage.’
‘That’s not what I asked. You miss them?’
‘Yes,’ she admitted. ‘It’s ridiculously soon. But yes, I miss them. I spend too much time sitting at my desk—I really lose track of time when I’m working—and the classes used to help me get the knots out and stretch my muscles.’
‘When are they?’
‘Mornings. Straight after the school run.’ She shrugged. ‘So when Ty’s at school, in four years’ time or so, I can go back to them.’
‘Maybe,’ he said, ‘we can change our rota. I’ll go in to the office a bit later, on the mornings when you have a class—though obviously that means I’ll be back later on those days to make up the time.’
‘You’d do that for me?’ She looked startled, almost shocked; and then she gave him a heart-stopping smile. It was his turn to be shocked then, by how much her smile affected him. How it made him feel as if the room had just lit up. ‘Thank you, Dylan. What about you—do you do anything you’ve had to give up and miss already?’
‘The gym,’ he admitted. ‘It’s my thinking time. And I kind of like the endorphin hit at the end.’
‘Let me know when your sessions are, and we’ll switch the rota round.’ She looked at the pastry, then at him, and gave him another smile. ‘Thank you, Dylan. That’s so nice.’
‘Pleasure,’ he responded automatically. And he stifled the thought that actually, it was a pleasure, seeing her made happy by such a little thing.
He’d surprised himself, offering to change the rota so she could do her weekly classes. And she’d surprised him by immediately offering to do the same for him. Why had he ever thought her selfish, when she so obviously believed in fairness? Had he just read her wrong in the past, and it had snowballed to the point where it was easier to dislike her than to wonder if he’d got it wrong? Not wanting to think about his burgeoning feelings, he said, ‘I’ve been talking to Pete’s parents about the funeral. They’d like it to be in the same church where Pete and Ally got married.’
She nodded. ‘Ally’s parents said the same.’
‘Good. It makes it easier that they agree.’ He paused. ‘But Pete’s parents also said they want the wake at the house rather than in a hall somewhere.’
‘So we’ll have to cater it, you mean?’
He nodded.
She blew out a breath. ‘Then I vote we get the local deli to do as much of it as possible, so all we have to do is lay stuff out on serving platters on the dining room table. And I’ll rope my mum in to help. Between us we can manage the drinks.’
There was no point in asking his mother to help. Dylan couldn’t remember whether she was in India or Bali, but he knew she was on retreat somewhere, and he also knew from experience that she wouldn’t allow anything to interrupt that. Even if her only child really needed her help. He’d learned that one at a pretty early age. ‘Right,’ he said shortly.
She narrowed her eyes. ‘Is everything OK, Dylan?’
‘Yes.’ He raked a hand through his hair. ‘Just this whole thing...I still can’t quite get my head around it. I still keep thinking Pete’s going to walk through the door and ask us if we missed him.’
‘Me, too,’ she said. ‘Ally’s the first person really close to me I’ve lost. I guess it’s a normal reaction, but I wonder when I’m going to stop missing her.’
‘You don’t stop missing her. You just get better at dealing with it.’
She said nothing, just looked at him. Those wide grey eyes were full of empathy rather than pity, so he found himself unexpectedly telling her the rest. ‘My grandmother. She died last year. It’s little things that catch you—a bit of music that reminds me of her, or walking past someone who’s wearing the same perfume. Or seeing something in the shop that I know she’d love, and suddenly remembering that she’s not going to be here for her birthday or Christmas so there’s no point in buying it.’
She reached over and squeezed his hand. Just long enough to let him know that she understood and sympathised, but not long enough to be cloying. Weird. He hadn’t expected to actually start liking Emmy.
He gave her the smallest, smallest smile. ‘I’ll talk to the vicar and sort that side of it out. The funeral directors just want a decision on the casket. Can I ask you to sort the food and drink?’
‘Sure. Does anything else need doing?’
‘I’m doing a eulogy for Pete. Do you want to do one for Ally?’
She shook her head. ‘I don’t think I could stand up there and do it. I would...’ She paused, clearly swallowing back a sob. ‘Well, I don’t want to let her down by crying through it. She deserves more than that.’
He’d done enough presentations in his time to be able to get through it. ‘I’ll do it for you, if you like. Just tell me what you want to say and I’ll read it out.’
She swallowed hard. ‘Thank you.’
‘No problem.’
‘I could do a wall, though,’ she said. ‘I could scan in some of the photographs from when they were small, as well as the digital ones I’ve got from more recent years. We could talk to their parents and get their favourite memories as well.’
‘That’s a good idea. I’ll talk to Pete’s again while you talk to Ally’s?’
‘That works for me.’
‘I think they’d like to stay at the house, that night,’ Dylan said. ‘I was thinking, it wouldn’t be fair for either couple to stay in Pete and Ally’s room.’
‘You’re right,’ she agreed. ‘It’s my night on call, so I can use a sleeping bag in Tyler’s room.’
‘And I’ll take the sofa,’ he said.
Funny how their minds were in tune on this one.
Would they be in tune in other ways, too? The thought crept insidiously into his head and lodged there, and even though he tried to block it out he couldn’t help being aware of just how attractive Emmy actually was.
She leaned down to touch the sleeping baby’s cheek. ‘You’ll definitely know your mum and dad, Ty. Dylan and I, we have photographs and memories, all sorts of things we can share with you when you’re older. Your mum did a “This Is Your Life” book for me when I was thirty, and I can do something like that for you of her.’
‘I’ll