Chapter 17
It was the final day of filming before the cast and crew finished for the autumn break. A cheery atmosphere filled the air, with everyone looking forward to a rest. As there would be no more filming in the hall, Emma decided to display the flowers she’d picked in there, avoiding any changes to the set. The bright blooms cheered the place up. She also put the Tiffany lamp Felix had bought in Lancaster on the console table. As expected, it looked perfect.
‘How lovely,’ said Polly as she entered, admiring the many vases dotted about. Then her eyes caught the Tiffany lamp. ‘Is that new?’
‘Yes,’ replied Emma.
‘Who put it there?’ Polly knew she hadn’t seen it before.
‘Me and Felix, well, I spotted it in an antique shop and he bought it,’ came her reply, knowing full well what the response would be.
‘Of course,’ Polly winked, then for devilment added, ‘very cosy.’
Emma just shook her head in good spirit, not bothering to rise to the bait. Madeleine however had overheard the exchange and couldn’t resist chipping in.
‘Oui, they make a good team.’
Emma turned abruptly, taken by surprise at her comment. They were interrupted by Felix’s loud voice.
‘OK everybody, let’s get on and wrap this up by lunch time. Emma, very kindly, is putting on a good spread, so let’s get cracking.’ He smiled at Emma in gratitude, and she returned with one back.
‘Like I said, very cosy,’ whispered Polly mischievously in her ear.
The place was hectic and Emma had a job in overseeing the front entrance as well as providing refreshments. Thankfully Madeleine was on hand to help, much to Emma’s relief. She’d proved most helpful assisting in the kitchen.
‘What are you doing over the break?’ she’d asked Emma, whilst arranging sandwiches onto plates. She automatically assumed Emma would be having some time off too.
Emma shrugged. ‘I’m not sure if it’s a break for me too… but anyway my dad’s going away for a few days on his narrowboat with his lady friend, so—’
‘Then you must have a break here! And a rest from all the household chores,’ Madeleine instantly replied.
‘Oh, but—’
‘Non,’ Madeleine raised an elegant hand to silence her, ‘youmuststay here, Emma,’ then continued, ‘and I shall cook.’ She gave a firm nod as if to end the subject.
Emma knew better than to argue with Madeleine, but she was actually glad. She’d half envisaged herself at the cottage, alone.
Emma stood back to assess the kitchen table. It was brimming with sandwiches, savoury tarts, salads, pastas and cakes.
‘There, now to get it all up to the dining room,’ she said.
‘I’ll help,’ replied Madeleine.
‘No, it’s fine, honestly I can manage.’
‘You must allow me to assist, Emma,’ she told her in a stern voice.
‘Thank you,’ Emma grinned, thinking what a formidable woman Madeleine was. Only slight in build, yet full of energy. Her appearance was always impeccable, from first thing in the morning to retiring to bed in the evening. Her slim, petite figure looked good in the tailored trouser suits and smart dresses she wore. Emma compared this to her mum’s wardrobe and how she’d mainly been comfortable in jeans and sweatshirts, clothing she could throw on without a second thought. A pang of emotion jolted through her, which Madeleine noticed.
‘Are you alright, Emma?’ Her perfectly make-upped face creased with worry.
Emma liked the way she pronounced her name, with emphasis on the first syllable,Em-ma. Her own mum used to shorten it to simply ‘Em’. This memory made her even more sentimental and to her horror she could feel her eyes fill.
‘Emma?’ Madeleine asked with urgency.
‘I’m fine, really,’ she quickly pulled herself together, ‘I… was just reminiscing.’
‘About what?’ Madeleine asked directly, eyes locking with hers, straightforward but inviting.
