Page 35

She had prepared her speech, yet was still lost for words.

Standing on the doorstep in an unfamiliar part of town, clutching a cheap bottle of red wine, Emilia suddenly felt exposed.

What on earth was she going to say to this woman?

How could she dress up her sudden interest in Louisa Baines so that it seemed anything other than highly suspicious?

She’d never tried to contact her before, had never shown the slightest interest in any of her father’s many lovers.

Indeed, if she had met Louisa previously, she’d have been tempted to spit in her face, her connection to Ernesto another reminder of how little he valued his own family.

And yet here she was. Curiosity had driven her to this tumbledown terraced house, a burning desire to know if her dad was telling the truth, but she regretted her decision now.

The echo of the bell ring seemed to linger, but there was no movement inside.

Casting a look around the shabby, down-at-heel street, Emilia considered her options.

Perhaps Louisa was out, contrary to her dad’s insistence?

Or perhaps she’d died in her sleep, lying upstairs undiscovered even now?

Maybe the heavy silence within was God’s way of telling Emilia to abandon this hare-brained scheme?

She could still go back to her dad and say that she’d tried, but that fate hadn’t been on their side this time.

But now quiet footsteps within gave the lie to her foolish fantasies. Emilia turned back to the door, pasting on her best smile, clocking the spy hole cloud over as the lady of the house surveyed the unexpected intruder. Still silence reigned, however, the owner making no move to admit her.

‘Louisa? Is that you?’ Emilia asked plaintively.

And now finally there was movement. First one lock, then a second and finally a third were eased open, before the reinforced door opened a crack, a pair of watchful eyes peering out over the heavy security chain.

‘Thank God, you’re in,’ Emilia blustered, with forced good humour. ‘For a minute I thought I’d come to the wrong house.’

She laughed, but it sounded as awkward as it felt. Emilia was an accomplished liar, so why was she finding this so hard? Still the eyes stared at her, appraising her, testing her.

‘You are Louisa, right? Louisa Baines?’

For a moment, Emilia feared she had come to the wrong house, but the woman’s shrewd expression suggested she knew exactly who her visitor was and, moreover, was enjoying her discomfort.

‘You’re Ernesto’s eldest nipper, aren’t you?’

‘That’s right,’ came the quick reply.

‘The famous Emilia Garanita. Made quite a name for yourself, haven’t you?’

Was there an edge to her tone? Did she somehow blame Emilia for making the best of a terrible situation, of trading on her father’s notoriety to forge a successful career for herself?

Already Emilia felt her hackles rising – what right did this bitch have to accuse her of anything?

– but she swiftly swallowed down her anger, plastering a smile across her face.

‘A girl’s gotta do and all that. Tell you what, if you take the chain off, I can tell you all about it. I’ve got wine …’

She brandished the cheap Malbec as if it was the grandest of grand crus and was pleased to see her adversary eye it with interest.

‘And why would you do that?’ came the terse reply. ‘What have you got to say to me, or I to you? We’ve survived all these years without each other, so why change things now?’

There was a bitter, gloating edge to her humour, which unnerved Emilia. Was Louisa really going to send her on her way? Was she going to fall at the first hurdle?

‘OK, Louisa, let’s not bullshit each other,’ she responded, changing tack. ‘I’m not here for my benefit, I’m here for Dad.’

‘Don’t give me that, you hate the old bastard.’

‘I’ve seen him twice this week, in prison. We’ve … we’ve had a bit of a reconciliation.’

‘Is that right?’

‘He asked me to visit, so I did. And it was good, honestly. Don’t look back in anger and all that …’

Emilia felt she was making progress, Louisa seeming to relax a little, but still her dad’s old flame made no move to remove the chain.

‘And how is the old goat?’

‘Not too good, I’m afraid. In fact, he’s dying.’

This was calculated to have an effect and it clearly landed, Louisa gasping slightly, raising her hand to her mouth. Emilia had no idea how long the pair had been lovers, but the relationship had clearly meant something.

‘Lung cancer. It’s very sad, but he’s determined to make the most of the last six months. Which is why I’m here.’

Gripping the neck of the wine bottle hard, Emilia took the plunge.

‘He wanted me to come and talk to you. He wasn’t sure if you’d want to see him again after all these years, but he was insistent that I came here to apologize on his behalf.’

Emilia paused, as if ambushed by emotion, before continuing, her voice quivering:

‘He wanted me to let you know that he’s sorry for everything. For how he treated you, how things turned out. He’s just sorry really … you deserved more from him. In truth, we all did.’

Once more, Louisa’s expression seemed to soften. There was a slight nod of her head, even as her features relaxed.

‘This isn’t nothing to do with your newspaper, then?’ she asked, a trace of suspicion in her voice.

‘No, no, nothing like that,’ Emilia protested earnestly. ‘This is a mercy mission, pure and simple.’

And now finally, Louisa took the bait, sliding the chain from its mooring and opening the door cautiously.

‘You’d better come in then.’