Page 78 of Trouble

‘Who says I didn’t maim him,’ Emily said. ‘Liedown.’

‘Agree with me that you deserve a little joy in your life first,’ Amy said. ‘Or I will get up and start dancing a jig until you do.’

‘No you won’t,’ Emily said warningly, but Amy raised her eyebrows in overt threat and Emily sighed. ‘I deserve a little joy in my life,’ she said tonelessly.

‘That was dreadful,’ said Amy, with a long sigh. ‘Next time, try to believe it, just a little.’

‘Fine,’ Emily lied.

She pulled a blanket over her legs and leaned back into her chair as Amy closed her eyes and almost instantly fell asleep.

Chapter Twenty-Six

The doctor did indeed return later in the week to check on Amy. The Laurence household also received a delivery of food: baskets of plump fruit and vegetables; a freshly killed goose; bouquets of fragrant herbs and a pot of golden honey tied neatly in linen ribbon.

This was about the point at which Emily went from a daze of sheer relief to extremely, potently furious, in almost an instant.

‘What’s the problem?’ Amy sat at the kitchen table surrounded by an exhaustive array of groceries. Emily had helped her there, not sure at all that she should be out of bed. ‘You look all .?.?. chompy.’

‘The problem,’ Emily said, picking up a very shiny apple and then putting it back down again, ‘is that we don’t needcharity.’

‘Oh, Emily,’ said Amy. ‘Why not let him be kind, if he wants to? I like charity. I’m going to eat all this delicious charity, and grow big and strong enough to put you in a headlock when you get like this.’

It wasn’t that Emily didn’t want Amy to have everything she needed – ofcourseshe did – but the idea of Captain Edwards and Meera conspiring to send this food to her, taking care to order all the things that the doctor had recommended, made her feel squirmy and ashamed and profoundly irritated.

She thought of the expression on his face when she’d named her sister, his realisation that she’d been operating under a false name. Had he not realised the implications of this? Had he decided to wilfully ignore them? Why was he insisting on this extravagant show of wealth in her direction, if he knew her to be some sort of fraud?

Amywaslooking better, though. There was some more natural colour in her cheeks, and she could hold a conversation without exhausting herself, and even read short passages of her favourite books. Emily felt quite able to leave her and go out for some air; to walk down to the market on Saturday to look for a few small delicacies that might cheer Amy up, and experience the horror of being known when Thomas from the fruit and vegetable stall and Mary at the pie stand insisted on saying good day to her and asking how she had been.

She even walked past the mill. It was odd that it felt so familiar and yet, at the same time, very far away; just one wall between her and the work that had bent her back day after day for years. She would likely be back there in a matter of weeks, grovelling for her old position, assuring the foreman that she was back for the long run.

She could not pretend that she did not dread it, butthiswas real life. Not whatever had happened at Fairmont House.

Meera had written. Emily had not opened the letter. She would need to respond at some point, to make it clear that she had vacated her position – but every time she thought of doing it, she put it off for just a little while longer.

It would feel like severing something, and she was not quite ready to cut that line for good.

They ate the last of the goose on Saturday night, and their mother stewed the apples for after. As they sat by the fire before bed, Emily watched Amy curled up in her chair, reading a book under an enormous blanket, and felt so overwhelmed by how much she loved her that she almost couldn’t stand it.

Emily knew it was almost time to face the practicalities of what needed to be done next: finding a job, sorting out a budget. Making the money in her drawer last for as long as physically possible, and arranging a means to replenish it.

She dressed herself one cool Tuesday morning, ate a thick crust of bread and the last of the slightly brown apples, and opened the front door to find—

‘Oliver?’

‘Oh,’ said Oliver. ‘Yes .?.?. Good. I wasn’t sure if this was – but it is.’

Just two weeks away from Fairmont House had made it all feel like somewhat of a dream; she didn’t know what to make of the valet standing on her front doorstep, impeccably turned out, peering past her into her house with an expression of barely suppressed shock on his face.

She stepped out and firmly closed the door.

‘What is it?’

‘Ah .?.?.’ he said, seeming to remember that he wasn’t just here to snoop. ‘You’re needed.’

‘I .?.?. I’m not coming back, Oliver. I was planning to hand in my notice.’

‘Were you? You could have told Meera sooner, you wretch. Anyway .?.?. You’re being brought back in for one last job – Grace is missing.’