Hold the Dream. Barbara Taylor BradfordЧитать онлайн книгу.
rang with coldness.
Emma paid no attention to the tone, accustomed to it by now. It had not changed much over the years. She deposited her jacket and bag on a chair, then proceeded to the fireplace, turning on several lamps as she walked past them. ‘I see you have a drink,’ she began, seating herself in the other wing chair. ‘Does it need refreshing?’
‘Not at the moment, thank you.’
‘How are you?’ Emma asked pleasantly.
‘I’m all right, I suppose.’ Edwina eyed her mother. ‘There’s no need to ask how you are. You’re positively blooming.’
Emma smiled faintly. Sitting back, she crossed her legs, and said, ‘I’m afraid I won’t be here for dinner after all. I have to go out. A last minute – ’
‘Business as usual, I’ve no doubt,’ Edwina sniffed scornfully, giving her an unfriendly look.
Emma winced, but suppressed her annoyance. Edwina’s rudeness and sneering manner were generally inflammatory to Emma, but tonight she was determined to overlook her daughter’s unwarranted attitude towards her. You don’t catch flies with vinegar, she thought dryly; and so she would continue to be pleasant and diplomatic, no matter what. Studying Edwina’s face, she at once noticed the tiredness of the drooping mouth, the weary lines around her silver-grey eyes which swam with sadness. Edwina had lost weight, and she seemed nervous, anxious even, and certainly the Dowager Countess of Dunvale, usually filled with her own importance, was not quite so smug this evening. It was apparent she was besieged by troubles.
Emma felt a stab of pity for her, and this was such an unprecedented feeling, and so unexpected, she was a little amazed at herself. Poor Edwina. She is truly miserable, and frightened, but she does bring it on herself I’m afraid, Emma thought. If only I could make her see this, get her to change her ways. Then becoming aware that she was being looked over as carefully as she was scrutinizing, Emma said, ‘You’re staring at me, Edwina. Is there something wrong with my appearance?’
‘The frock, Mother,’ Edwina replied without a moment’s hesitation. ‘It’s a little young for you, isn’t it?’
Emma stiffened, and wondered if her charitable feelings had been misplaced. Edwina was intent on being obnoxious. Then she relaxed and laughed a gay, dismissive laugh, resolved not to let Edwina get her goat. When she spoke her voice was even. ‘I like red,’ she said. ‘It’s lively. What colour would you like me to wear? Black? I’m not dead yet you know, and whilst we’re on the subject of clothes, why do you insist on wearing those awful lumpy tweeds?’ Not waiting for a reply, she added, ‘You have a lovely figure, Edwina. You should show it off more.’
Edwina let this small compliment slide by her. And she asked herself why she had ever accepted Jim Fairley’s invitation, or agreed to stay here at Pennistone Royal. She must be insane, to expose herself to her mother in this way.
Emma compressed her lips, her eyes narrowing as they weighed Edwina speculatively. She said, with the utmost care, ‘I’d like to talk to you about Anthony.’
This statement jolted Edwina out of her introspection, and swinging to face Emma, she exclaimed, ‘Oh no, Mother! When Emily said you’d be coming down to see me, I suspected as much. However, I refuse to discuss my son with you. You’re manipulative and controlling.’
‘And you, Edwina, are beginning to sound like a broken record,’ Emma remarked. ‘I’m tired of hearing that accusation from you. I’m also fed up with your continual sniping. It’s impossible to have a decent conversation with you about anything. You’re defensive and hostile.’
Strong as these words were, Emma’s tone had been mild, and her face was devoid of emotion as she pushed herself up and out of the chair. She went to the William and Mary chest in the corner, poured herself a small glass of sherry, then resumed her position in front of the fire. She sat holding her drink, a reflective light in her eyes. After a long moment, she said, ‘I am an old woman. A very old woman really. Although I realize there will never be total peace in this family of mine, I would like a bit of tranquillity for the rest of my life, if that’s possible. And so I’m prepared to forget a lot of the things you’ve said and done, Edwina, because I’ve come to the conclusion it’s about time you and I buried the hatchet. I think we should try to be friends.’
Edwina gaped at her in astonishment, wondering if she was dreaming. She had hardly expected to hear these words from her mother. She finally managed, ‘Why me? Why not any of the others? Or are you planning to give the same little speech to them this weekend?’
‘I don’t believe they’ve been invited. And if they had, I would hope they’d have enough sense not to come. I don’t have much time for any of them.’
‘And you do for me?’ Edwina asked incredulously, mentally thrown off balance by her mother’s conciliatory gesture.
‘Let’s put it this way, I think you were the least guilty in that ridiculous plot against me last year. I know now that you were coerced to a certain extent. You never were very devious, avaricious or venal, Edwina. Also, I do regret our estrangement over the years. We should have made up long ago, I see that now.’ Emma genuinely meant this, but she was also motivated by another reason. Anthony. Emma was convinced that only by winning Edwina over to her side could she hope to influence her, get her to adopt a more reasonable attitude towards her son. So she said again, ‘I do think we should give it a try. What do we have to lose? And if we can’t be real friends, perhaps we can have an amicable relationship at the very least.’
‘I don’t think so, Mother.’
Emma exhaled wearily. ‘I am saddened for you, Edwina, I really am. You threw away one of the most important things in your life, but – ’
‘What was that?’
‘My love for you.’
‘Oh come off it, Mother,’ Edwina said with a sneer, looking down her nose at Emma. ‘You never loved me.’
‘Yes, I did.’
‘I don’t believe this conversation!’ Edwina exclaimed, shifting in her chair. She took a gulp of her scotch, then brought the glass down on the Georgian side table with a bang. ‘You’re incredible, Mother. You sit there making these extraordinary statements and expecting me to swallow them whole. That’s the joke of the century. I might be stupid, but I’m not that stupid.’ She leaned forward, staring hard at Emma, her eyes like chips of grey ice. ‘What about you? My God, it was you who threw me away when I was a baby.’
Emma brought herself up in the chair with enormous dignity and her face was formidable, her eyes steely as she said, ‘I did not. And don’t you ever dare say that to me again. Ever, do you hear? You know that I put you in your Aunt Freda’s care because I had to work like a drudge to support you. But we’ve gone through this enough times in the past, and you’ll think what you want, I suppose. In the meantime, I have no intention of being side tracked from what I have to say to you, just because you have the need to dredge up all your old grudges against me.’
Edwina opened her mouth, but Emma shook her head. ‘No, let me finish,’ she insisted, her green eyes holding Edwina’s sharply. ‘I don’t want you to make the same mistake twice in your life. I don’t want you to throw Anthony’s love away, as you did mine. And you’re in grave danger of doing so.’ She sat back, hoping her words would sink in, would have some effect.
‘I have never heard anything quite so ridiculous,’ Edwina snorted, assuming a haughty expression.
‘It’s the truth, nevertheless.’
‘What do you know about my relationship with my son!’
‘A great deal. But despite his love for you, which is considerable, you are hell bent on driving a wedge between the two of you. Why, only last night, he told me how concerned he is about your relationship, and he looked pretty damn worried to me.’
Edwina lifted