Authors: Clair de Lune
All was peaceful again.
Chapter Six
Emma left and went back home to do some research and was pleased when an e-mail came from Master Rafael with a list of sites and books. She was not going to reserve
them
in the local library, so she looked online to see what the cost of some of them would be. Luckily, he had had the foresight to list them in his order of preference. She did some work on the new collection and went to sleep, happily dreaming of what she found out online.
Her happy state did not last long. When she got into the office the next day, several of the designers were having the usual coffee but all conversation suddenly ceased when she entered. One by one they got up and went out, leaving her on her own, without the usual cheery greetings and smiles, and everybody avoided her eyes. Emma could not understand it. Until today she had been made to feel very welcome, a part of the firm. What was wrong? What had changed?
One woman said in a stage whisper as she went out, “No surprise how she got her job when her grandmother is fucking the boss.”
Emma was appalled. It was no secret that her grandmother, Jane, was involved with Angus. He had told everyone that she was Jane’s granddaughter. He had also told them that she had got her job on her own merits. He had sifted through the applications and liked her work. He had followed up the contact and, when, he found out she was Jane’s granddaughter, he had asked her to make up a sample of her work for Jane to wear. He had told her, and the rest of the design team, that, if her work had not measured up to his standards, Emma would not have been offered the job. That was one of the reasons he had not told Jane about the interview, just in case. The other one was to let her wear Emma’s creation to the club, a nice surprise for Jane, when she found out who made it. Did they really think her grandma had got her the job? Had she? They were even making her doubt it now!
No
! Emma would not believe it. Angus had said Jane did not know and Emma believed him. Grandma had not known anything about it, and she would not so undermine Emma. She would want her to do things for herself, and she had always said, “You can do anything you want to,” when a young Emma had said, “I can’t, Grandma.” She missed her grandma now. She’d know what to do. Emma put the remark down to spite.
Well, Grandma was away, and she had work to do so best get on with it. She worked all morning, but when it got to lunch time she got a curt e-mail from the girl she had been going to lunch with, saying she could not make it. All day she had niggling incidents. Whatever she wanted was late or not done or had to be done again. People she needed to see were unavailable and did not know when they would get back to her. Her calls were cut off, and then she could not get a line to get back to the supplier she’d been talking to. The day from hell was over at last, and she went home to continue her research. She would find out more, then fix up with Prometheus to go to another exploratory visit before Angus and Grandma got home next week.
The next few days at the office followed the same pattern. If anything, the situation got worse, and if she tried to find out what was happening she was faced with blank stares.
The post came early one day before she left home, and she was appalled when she opened her credit card statement. The sum on it was not something she could pay, as it reached four figures, and the list of her spending was all wrong. She phoned the company and complained, and they asked if she had bought those items. She said she had not, and they promised to look into it and would get back to her.
She went to work but did not get much done between the noncooperation of the rest of the staff, and the worry made it a totally wasted day. She needed every minute, as she so wanted to have the new collection ready when Angus came back, to demonstrate that his faith had not been misplaced and she
had
got the job on her merit, not through nepotism. When she got home one of her neighbours called and said she had parcels for her. Emma could not imagine what as she had ordered nothing, being a little short of cash until she was paid at the end of the month.
She could not believe the huge pile of parcels that was shown to her.
“Somebody’s birthday or a spending spree?” the neighbour asked.
“They aren’t mine. I never ordered any of this!”
But the neighbour looked askance at her and obviously did not believe her. She took the things home and checked them against her credit card. She could see that quite a few of the boxes were from a sex toy company selling online. She had to telephone the card company and explain. They were not overly sympathetic as they seemed to think she’d spent and just forgotten what she had spent. They listed a lot of other purchases, and she was frightened as the sums spent were mounting up and she did not have the money and would not be able to pay. She asked them to put a stop on the card and not let any more money be spent, and they agreed to do that but as the things were ordered with her card and delivered to her address she would have to pay. She could try to send them back for refunds. She managed to return the items, and although she was out a lot of money for postage and would have to pay the interest, at least she was not in debt for the large amount she had first feared.
* * * *
Emma went straight home after she had been to the post office. When she got to the door of her flat, she had the shock of her life. The door had been kicked in. She went to knock on a neighbour’s door.
“Can you come with me? My front door has been kicked in and I do not want to go into the flat alone.”
“Just hang on a minute, love. I will get my son, do come in and wait.”
Emma had not done more than say ‘good morning’ to her neighbour, but she had always seemed a very friendly, motherly type of woman. She came back, accompanied by a tall, muscular young man, covered in tattoos.
“Don’t worry, if there is anyone still inside, I will deal with him,” the young man said. His name was Eddie, and very quietly and carefully, he entered her flat.
“You just wait there. If there is anyone inside, it will be safer. If there isn’t, then the fewer people who go in the better, in case the police can find forensic evidence.”
A couple of minutes later he was back at the door.
“He, or they, have gone. You come back to our flat and phone the police from there.”
He took her back to his mother, who made Emma sit down and phone the police. They promised to send someone round.
“How about a nice cup of tea, while you wait, love,” she said. Emma was used to the Yorkshire custom of calling everyone ‘love’ by now. When she had first arrived, it was very strange to have bus conductors, taxi-drivers, and the like call her ‘love.’ Now she accepted it and liked it. One thing was certain, if you stood at a bus stop in Yorkshire, people would be friendly and speak to you. It was comforting to be looked after by this motherly woman. She gave Emma a cup of tea and two chocolate digestive biscuits. While Emma nibbled and sipped her tea, the woman introduced herself.
“I am Mrs Smith, you have met Eddie. My man is out at work. He works in the steel industry.”
“I am Emma Browne. I work as a designer for an online lingerie company,” Emma said.
“You will be needing someone to mend that there door. Eddie is handy with his hands and can do it for you, if you like.”
Emma accepted with alacrity. She had been wondering how she was going to manage to find a joiner. The doorbell chimed. It was the police.
“Constable Julie Taylor,” the young girl said. Emma thought she could be barely out of school and was relieved to see an older policeman waiting at the door of her flat.
“I am Sergeant Bradley. I shall need you to accompany me into the flat. I need to know what has been taken, madam,” he said.
The flat was a mess. Clothes, papers and books were scattered everywhere. When she checked, all that was missing was her laptop.
“The only thing that has been stolen is my laptop,” she said.
“That’s odd. Why have they made such a mess then? It doesn’t look as if they were searching for anything, more making a mess,” Sergeant Bradley said. The police left, promising to be in touch later. It was plain that they did not hold out much hope of getting the laptop back. Emma was upset. With her laptop stolen, the only copy of her new designs was gone. With all the upset she had forgotten to back them up and leave the copy in the office, as was company policy.
She thanked Mrs Smith and, accompanied by Eddie, returned to her flat. He soon had the door mended.
“If you get a new lock, I will fit it for you, meanwhile I have fitted a bolt so you will feel safer tonight.”
She thanked him and offered to pay him. He would not hear of it, so she resolved to buy him some beer when next she went to the supermarket.
When she went into work the next day the chief designer asked to see her progress, and she was forced to tell him that her laptop had been stolen in a burglary and the police had held out little hope of getting it back as there was no forensic evidence and no one had seen who had broken in.
“Well, then go and get the backup, you will only have lost any work you did last night.”
“I have not backed my work up for several days as I have had personal problems.”
“Well, you know company policy. You will have to work the weekends until the work is made up. Do you at least have your sketches?”
She was able to say that she did and would do her best to get it all sorted. She saw the looks the rest of them gave her and imagined what they’d be saying about special treatment for her.
She was so upset she went home and cried. She could not work. She did not know how she was going to get out of all this. How had it all gone so wrong?
Chapter Seven
Emma opened the door and was pleased to see Jessica. She was not very well acquainted with her, but she had spoken to her at the club, and they had talked of where they both lived. She could not remember having given Jessica her address, but could have been mistaken. Jessica was instantly sympathetic.
“Goodness, what has happened here?” Jessica asked.
“I went to the post office, to return some things. When I got back someone had broken in,” Emma said.
“How awful for you. Can I help you clear it up?”
Emma thought Jessica was so sympathetic. When she saw the mess the flat was in, she held Emma’s hand and comforted her.
“Let’s get all this mess straightened up now.” She began to pick things up off the floor, handing them to Emma to put away. Emma could not quite put her finger on it, but she did not really like Jessica. That is not very nice
,
she thought to herself.
She has come here and is helping to put the flat back in order.
Nevertheless, Emma could not rid herself of the impression that Jessica was pleased at the turn events had taken. She shrugged the feeling off, putting it down to being upset and suspicious of everyone and everything. She had had an upsetting few days.
“You seem to be very upset. You need a break from all this. Now the flat is in order why don’t you come to the club tonight? The change will do you good,” Jessica suggested.
Emma perked up a bit when Jessica said a change would do her good, so Emma called Prometheus and got herself dressed.
Jessica said, “That is a pain, I can’t go with you. I shall have to meet you at the club. I have just remembered I have to call in on an old friend of my mother’s, to see how she is.”
Emma could not object to that. In fact, she thought it was kind of Jessica to bother with an old lady. Maybe she had misjudged Jessica. Maybe it was all the events of the past few days unsettling Emma and making her distrust everyone.
Jessica was at the club when Emma got there. In the locker room Emma was met by the same stony stares and hostile looks and mutterings that she had been on the receiving end of at work. There was a note on her locker saying, “
You are not welcome here, bitch
.”
Jessica smiled at her when all the other subs left and was sympathetic about the note, and to Emma it was a much-needed crumb of comfort. It seemed she had misjudged Jessica, who was the only one who had showed her any sympathy.
Chapter Eight
Eric saw all the subs leave the locker room twittering about something and casting angry glances back at the door. Emma came out and seemed distressed. She was clutching something in her hand and looked ready to burst into tears. Jessica followed at a distance and Eric saw the satisfied smirk on her face as Master Rafael, just inside the door, said in a loud, angry voice, “You have a bloody nerve turning up here after what you have done. If you were my sub, I’d beat your arse black and blue.” So saying, he stormed off. Master Torquil arrived and glared at her.