‘I saw these and thought they’d look lovely inside. May as well enjoy the last of them,’ Emma told him as he approached her.
‘So I see,’ he replied, ‘here, let me.’ He gathered all the prickly branches together, after putting his gloves on inside his jacket pocket.
‘I wondered where you were,’ Felix said as they entered the hall. He couldn’t help but sound a touch accusing.
Emma lifted her head up in surprise. ‘I was only outside,’ she replied, a tad confused at the tone of his voice.
Felix gave a sigh as he placed the rose branches down on the floor.
‘Please don’t do that again.’ He looked straight at her with a serious expression.
‘What?’ Emma laughed, genuinely puzzled by his behaviour.
Felix paused, not wanting to frighten her, but still keen to get his point across. Then the penny dropped and Emma’s eyes widened.
‘Oh my God, you thought Anika had done something to me, didn’t you?’ she gasped, covering her mouth in shock.
Felix reached out and pulled Emma to him. Wrapping his arms protectively round her, he breathed her in.
‘I just… panicked, that’s all,’ he tried to soothe, still holding her tightly.
Emma felt warm and tingly inside, loving the warmth and security of Felix’s body. Maybe he had overreacted a little, but she was touched by his concern and also quite flattered by it.
‘Hey, Felix.’ She pulled back and stared into his troubled eyes.
He shook his head. ‘Sorry, I feel so… responsible I guess.’ He gave a weak smile and swallowed.
‘Listen, you mustn’t let her get to you,’ Emma appeased.
Felix was once again struck by her mature, sensible attitude, despite the ten-year age gap between them. Feeling a little foolish now, he smiled back at her.
‘You’re right, sorry.’ He looked down at the pile of roses. ‘I’ll put these in the kitchen.’
Then, they both jumped at hearing the doorbell.
‘Are you expecting anyone?’ asked Emma quietly.
‘No. I’ll get it,’ replied Felix, then turned, ‘you stay here, Emma,’ he ordered. His chest was pounding again, as he opened the front doors, preparing himself for the worst, an irate Anika. His eyes widened at the sight before him. ‘Mum?’
‘A little earlier than planned, I know, but thought I would surprise you,mon chéri!’
That evening, after supper with Felix and his mother, Emma went to bed in a contented but exhausted state. Despite sinking into a warm bubble bath and restfully taking stock, her mind was in overdrive. It had been such an eventful day with so much to consider. Mainly, the way Felix had behaved when he couldn’t find her that morning.
He had looked genuinely distraught and the way he’d grabbed her to him in a tight hug… She’d been taken aback. A tiny part of her questioned if that was the normal actions of an employer. Emma giggled at the thought of her old bank manager, Mr Butterworth, reacting in such a way!
Then, there was how he had spoken in the car, after she’d joked about him being seen with her shopping in Lancaster. Felix had looked so sincere when gently reprimanding her, and she blushed at the memory of him calling her beautiful and talented. Again, was this to be expected of her boss?
It all left Emma a tad confused, but happy nonetheless. Truth be told, shelikedit. The more time she spent with Felix, the more attracted to him she was becoming. Her thoughts flashed back to how he’d dealt with the barman in Lancaster, easily brushing away any attention he’d received. Some would have gloated in it, but not Felix.
Supper had been a very pleasant affair and she had thoroughly enjoyed Felix and his mother’s company. They were humorous together, banter bouncing back and forth, making Emma squeal with laughter. She had expected to feel intimidated by his mother – between her sophisticated French accent, dry sense of humour and chic outfit, Emma felt positively dowdy next to the woman. But she’d been surprised by the warmth and geniality that Madeleine – as she was instructed to call her – had offered instead, inviting Emma to join in her teasing of her son with a wink.
Once or twice she’d caught his mother’s watchful eyes rest upon her in an almost questioning way. She did know why she was here, didn’t she? It crossed Emma’s mind that perhaps Madeleine may think her a friend of Felix’s, such was the manner in which he treated her; topping up her glass with more wine and actually assisting with cooking the meal. Emma had rustled up a spaghetti carbonara with garlic bread and Felix had been on hand to help, setting the table and serving it up. It touched Emma that he had done so, as opposed to having her run to his beck and call. Yet, she conceded, wasn’t that what he paid his housekeeper to do?
Her mind then rewound to him buying her lunch, letting her choose the Tiffiny lamp… was this the done thing between an employer and employee? She pictured them again, in the dimly lit, cosy kitchen, hunkered down beside the wood burner. All three of them sat together, chatting easily as they ate. Madeleine had complimented her cooking, as had Felix. In no way was Emma made to feel inferior, or even as staff, for that matter. Hence, the quizzical looks from his mother.
They’d shared stories from Felix’s childhood, like the way he had always been a performer, staging plays he’d made up from the age of seven, which Emma had found endearing. Only when Felix went down into the cellar to get another bottle of wine did Madeleine make a slight enquiry.
‘Are you from Samphire Bay, Emma?’
