‘In residential areas, all plants under trees must be cleared to prevent fires.’ Mark’s mouth was wide open. He was guilty; she knew it. ‘Someone has reported that we haven’t cleared all our land. That someone must be Tommy. What have you done to antagonize him now?’ she asked in a flat tone.
‘That man is an effing pest!’ said Mark, laughing and picking up his washbag.
Why was he laughing, thought Emily. ‘This war between you stops now. We don’t know our way around Portuguese regulations like Tommy does.’
‘I hear you.’
That didn’t sound like a commitment to call a truce, she thought. ‘This is going on your list. I don’t want to hear any more about it. Just get it sorted, and don’t pick any more unnecessary fights.’
‘He started it,’ whined Mark.
She gritted her teeth. Was this the way he’d behaved towards Paul, goading him for four years? No wonder the man took his revenge as soon as he could. ‘Well, you finish it. And get the land cleared.’
‘Fine, fine,’ said Mark. ‘It’s on my ever-growing list.’
‘Put it near the top. If we don’t sort it, the council will, and then they’ll send us the bill.’
Emily hadn’t expected to be back in Ovington Square so soon. It was less than a week since her dinner at Mary’s, and she was standing in the cloakroom, sniffing back tears, and gagging at the sharp stench of stale urine. The grey marble Lusso basin was hanging off the wall at a peculiar angle, the cistern was clogged with soiled toilet paper, and the surrounding walls were splattered with yellow stains – it looked as if a pack of male dogs had cocked their legs all over her hand-painted wallpaper.
She felt a hand on her shoulder and heard the familiar reassuring voice of Svetlana. ‘This is the worst room. I’ve calleda plumber.’
Emily turned to face her housekeeper. ‘Why didn’t they use another toilet when this jammed up?’
Svetlana shrugged. ‘The policeman told me there were hundreds of people here when they came to break up the party.’
‘Let’s get out of here,’ suggested Emily, pinching her nose. She closed the door on the mess and stood in the hallway, her shoulders drooping. ‘How the heck did they manage to pull the sink off? Did they sit on it?’ She made eye contact with Svetlana, imagining her taking the call from the police.
Emily didn’t want to go back to the drawing room and see the curtain poles lying on the floor. At least the perpetrators had moved most of the furniture to the basement, locked the door, and disabled the lift.
‘Can we get it ship-shape before the next booking?’
Svetlana gave her employer a sympathetic look. ‘I’ve made up the attic bedroom for you. I don’t think the party went up there – too far away from the music. Between us, a plumber, and a handyman, we can sort this.’
Emily gulped back tears. ‘You’re such a treasure.’ She missed this woman. On her last trip, sorting out the pool problem without Svetlana’s cheerful presence, time had dragged. ‘Hang on, I’ve got something for you.’ Emily shot up the stairs, returning with a Fortnum & Mason bag.
‘For me?’ said Svetlana, her round face beaming.
‘It’s a lovely perfume, but I don’t think it suits me. A little thank you.’
Svetlana opened the box and sprayed perfume on her neck.
Emily sniffed the delicate floral smell. ‘It’s lovely on you,’ she said, sighing. ‘I was going to meet Mary for a cocktail, but ...’ – she didn’t want to spend the evening being ticked off again by Mary for tax avoidance – ‘... I’m not sure I have the energy.’
Svetlana patted Emily’s arm. ‘You should go, forget about this.’
‘This is a really hard way to earn a living!’ muttered Emily as she climbed the stairs to the attic.
Later that evening, her eyes skimming the dimly lit cocktail bar seeking out her friend, Emily felt a knot form in her throat. It would’ve been better to finish the conversation in Mary’s kitchen last week, but when Paul ambushed her, he killed that opportunity; besides, Emily would’ve taken out her anger on Mary. She told herself to let Mary vent her fury, apologize to her, and explain it wasn’t Emily’s decision to keep the Ellis tax status a secret.
Mary was sitting at the bar, a half-drunk martini in front of her and a pinched look on her face.
Emily hung her head. ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t hear Mark deny it that night. I wouldn’t lie to you, but Mark didn’t want anyone to know.’
Mary picked up her glass. ‘So, it’s a family secret.’
Emily didn’t want to compound the problem. She hesitated.
Mary’s eyes widened. ‘Surely your son knows!’ she said waving her drink at Emily.
