To Be the Best. Barbara Taylor Bradford

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СКАЧАТЬ all of the children had been restive and moody and difficult, and Solange had immediately blamed the mistral, reminding Emily that this wind usually disturbed everyone’s equilibrium, and Emily had agreed, and they had both been relieved when it had finally blown out to sea. The weather had changed for the better – and so had the children. They were much calmer, almost their normal selves again, and even Emily felt more at ease. She had been edgy and irritable during those dull and incredibly windy days, and she now had to admit there was probably a lot of truth in what Solange – and the locals – said about the mistral and its peculiar effect on people. She glanced at her watch. It was only twenty minutes past six and by nine o’clock the sky would be a perfect cerulean blue, the sun would be out and the sea would be as still as a pond, she decided, as always the eternal optimist, as her grandmother had been before her.

      Turning away from the balustrade, she stepped up to the table where she had laid out her papers a few minutes earlier, and sat down. As far as work was concerned, her immediate priority was her impending trip to Hong Kong to buy merchandise for Genret, the import-export trading company she ran for Harte Enterprises. She opened her diary and glanced at the dates in September she had tentatively selected some weeks ago. She flipped the pages backward and forward several times, carefully studied her schedule, pencilled in the changes she now wished to make, and began to scribble a note for Janice, her secretary in London, outlining her new itinerary.

      A few minutes later, Emily almost jumped out of her skin as a strong cool hand came to rest firmly on her shoulders, and she started up in her chair and swung her head swiftly, her eyes wide with astonishment. ‘My God, Winston! You mustn’t creep up on me like that! So silently. You scared me!’ she cried.

      ‘Oh, sorry, darling,’ he apologized and bent over and kissed her cheek. ‘Good morning,’ he added as he walked across the terrace and leaned against the balustrade, where he stood regarding her lovingly for a moment before proffering her a warm smile.

      Emily smiled back. ‘And tell me, what are you doing up so early? You’re usually dead to the world until ten o’clock at the earliest.’

      Winston shrugged his bare shoulders, put the towel he was holding on the balustrade. ‘I couldn’t sleep this morning. But it’s always the same with me, isn’t it, Em? I mean, on our last few days here I seem to want to cram everything in, enjoy every single second, just like the kids.’

      ‘And as I do, too.’

      ‘Yes, that’s true … you do love this place so. But then it loves you, Emily … why you’re positively blooming.’

      ‘Thank you, kind sir,’ she said.

      He eyed the glass in front of her. ‘I suppose that’s water you’re drinking … aren’t you going to make coffee?’

      Emily shook her head. ‘No, Winston, I’m not,’ she said very adamantly. ‘Because if I do, I’ll also make some toast and I’ll butter the toast and put jam on it and then I’ll eat it, and when Odile arrives at seven, with all that scrumptious stuff from the bakery, I’ll have another breakfast, a second breakfast, and you know perfectly well that I’ve got to watch my weight.’

      ‘You look pretty terrific to me, Mrs Harte,’ he said with a chuckle and leered at her. ‘I don’t half fancy you.’

      ‘Honestly, Winston, at this hour!’

      ‘What’s wrong with this hour? It’s still very early … come on darling, let’s go back to bed.’

      ‘Oh don’t be so silly, I’ve a thousand things to do this morning.’

      ‘So do I,’ he remarked lightly, giving her a pointed look. Then his face changed suddenly, and he levelled a swift appraising glance at her, liking what he saw. Emily was now thirty-four and one of the prettiest women alive, in his opinion. She was blonder than ever and brown from the sun and her brilliant green eyes, so identical in colour to his own, sparkled with a vivid intelligence and a joie de vivre that were uniquely hers. She was wearing a lime-green-and-pink cotton shift over her bikini and looked impossibly young, fresh and delectable this morning.

      ‘Winston, you’re staring. And very rudely. What’s wrong?’

      ‘Nothing. Just admiring you, that’s all. And thinking that you look like a delicious ice cream … and good enough to eat.’

      ‘Oh pooh!’ Emily laughed, but her neck turned bright pink and she dropped her head, stared at her engagement book intently.

      There was a tiny silence.

      Winston swallowed a smile, both amused and pleased that he could still make her blush after eleven years of marriage, but then that was his Emily and he adored her for her girlishness and her femininity and her softness. Odd, he thought, that she can be so tough in business and yet she has such a soft edge to her in her personal life. Like Paula, of course, and Aunt Emma, when she was alive; it was just this dichotomy in their natures that made the Harte women so original. He had known that for a long time.

      Emily raised her head. At once, she saw the contemplative expression on her husband’s face and asked, ‘And what are you thinking about now?’

      ‘I was just wondering what all this is in aid of this morning?’ Winston murmured, strolling over to join her at the table. He flopped down in the chair opposite and held her eyes as she looked across at him.

      ‘What do you mean?’ she asked, puzzled.

      ‘Why are you going at the work hammer and tongs today, when you’ll be back in London at the end of the week? It hardly seems worth it, love.’

      ‘I’m not working, actually, I’m trying to figure out the dates for my buying trip to Hong Kong and Mainland China,’ Emily explained. ‘If I leave on the tenth of September, instead of the sixth as I’d planned, I’d still be there when Paula breaks her return journey back to the States from Sydney. We were talking about it yesterday afternoon, and decided it would be nice to have a couple of days in Hong Kong. Relaxing … doing our Christmas shopping … and then we could fly on to New York together, spend a day or two there before taking the Concorde home to England. What do you think?’

      ‘It sounds good to me, if that’s what you feel like doing. I’ve certainly no objections, I don’t have to be in Canada until the first week of October. Presumably you’d be back in England before I left?’

      ‘Yes, of course I would. I’ve taken your Canadian trip into consideration and planned around it.’

      ‘Then it’s fine, darling,’ Winston answered with a smile and stood up, went to get his towel. ‘Well, if you’re not going to take pity on your poor husband and make him a cup of coffee, I think I’ll go for a swim before that tribe of fiendish little monsters invades the area and ploughs down everything in sight.’

      Emily couldn’t help laughing at the expression on his face. ‘Oh I don’t know, darling, they’re not so bad,’ she protested, feeling the sudden need to defend the younger generation.

      ‘Oh yes they are!’ he retorted. ‘They’re bloody awful most of the time!’ A lopsided grin glanced across his face. ‘But I must admit, I do love ’em … especially the three that are mine.’ He kissed her quickly and loped off in the direction of the swimming pool without another word, nonchalantly swinging the towel and whistling merrily.

      Emily watched him go, thinking how fit and healthy СКАЧАТЬ