Damon Thorne returned to his own side of the desk and lit another cigar. Then, when Emma refused to sit down again, he said:
‘You must know I've been married.'
Emma nodded. Of course she knew. Had he not married Elizabeth Kingsford only weeks after their separation? And had not the knowledge torn her apart?
‘Well, I have a daughter, Annabel. She's six and a half.’ Emma nodded again. She knew this also. Despite their separation she had sought information about him avidly.
‘Something you may not know, something we have not publicized, is the fact that she's blind.’ He watched the reactions she gave; the widening of her eyes, the compassionate curve of her mouth. ‘When her mother was killed in the car crash, Annabel was with her. Elizabeth was driving too fast, the corner was too sharp, Annabel received a blow on her head, and when she regained consciousness, she couldn't see. It's as simple as that.'
Emma shook her head. ‘I'm sorry,’ she said inadequately. ‘Will she ever see again?'
‘Specialists think it may be possible, I haven't their faith.’ He spoke heavily. ‘In any case, it's too early to tell. She's too young for any major surgery to be performed on her. I wouldn't agree to that.’ He shrugged his broad shoulders. ‘So that's the problem. The nurse-companion who has been with Annabel eighteen months now, since the time of the crash, is leaving to get married. I need a new companion for the child. I dislike strangers in my home; you, at least, would not be that. Is it agreed?'
Emma felt bewildered. She needed time to think about something like this. To go and live in the same house as Damon Thorne, to see him often, to care for his daughter; it was the last thing she wanted to do. But what choice had she? Either she did this, and saved Johnny imprisonment, or she refused and Johnny would have to take his chances.
‘I … I have a job,’ she said, prevaricating. ‘I'm a staff nurse now. I expected to be a Sister by the end of the year. I don't know what to say.'
He smiled his derisive smile. ‘Oh, I think you'll agree,’ he said callously. ‘After all, if you don't, things are going to be pretty unpleasant for your brother.'
‘You're despicable!’ she exclaimed hotly, unable to prevent herself.
‘Cynical is the word,’ he said mockingly. ‘And if I am, you have only yourself to thank, haven't you?'
Emma turned away, unable to look at him any longer. He didn't know what he was saying; he didn't know what he was asking.
‘It seems I have no choice then,’ she said, in a low voice. ‘I … I shall have to give my notice in at the hospital. They'll expect a month's notice …'
‘Give them a fortnight,’ he said, abruptly. ‘I'll pay your salary in lieu of the other two weeks. If there are any complaints refer them to me.'
Emma swung round. ‘You think money can buy everything!’ she cried angrily.
He shook his head. ‘I know it can't,’ he said seriously. Then shedding the mood, he continued: ‘I don't know why you're behaving so angrily. You ought to be grateful to me. Instead of spending the rest of the winter in this cold climate, you'll be basking in the sun in the Bahamas.'
‘The Bahamas!’ Emma was astounded.
‘Of course. I live there now, didn't you know? Well, perhaps you wouldn't at that. Like Annabel's health, it's not for publication.'
WHEN Emma returned to the flat which she shared with Johnny, he was waiting for her. Since their parents’ death four years ago, they had lived in this small flat near Earl's Court, for their old home had had to be sold, and they had not been left with a great deal of money.
Johnny rose from the couch on which he had been lounging at her entrance, and stared piercingly at her.
‘Did you see him? Is he going to let me get away with it? Have you managed to persuade him that it wasn't my fault? What did he say?'
Emma shook her head wearily. ‘Johnny,’ she exclaimed. ‘Let me speak. You want to know so many things all at once. Yes, I saw him. No, you won't have to face a court case …'
‘Oh, Em, Em darling!’ Johnny lifted her bodily into the air and swung her round excitedly. ‘I knew you could do it. I just knew it!'
Emma sat down on a chair and lit a cigarette with hands which were not quite steady. Her brain still would not assimilate itself to the proposed change in her circumstances. On top of all her own difficulties there was the added problem of Johnny himself. Although he was twenty-six, a year older than herself, he had always seemed much younger, and it had been Emma who had borne the brunt of of any unpleasantness he had got himself into. To imagine herself leaving him, going to live thousands of miles away from him where she would be unable to see that he ate regularly, that he bought enough clothes that he did not drink too much.
Johnny was also smoking now. He waltzed round the room, holding his cigarette between his teeth. ‘Em, you're a marvel!'
Emma sighed. ‘You haven't heard everything yet,’ she said dryly. ‘Even Damon Thorne wants something for his money.'
Johnny halted abruptly. ‘What could he possibly want? Apart from his money back, of course.'
‘He wants me. At least, he wants my nursing experience. His daughter Annabel requires a nurse-companion. That's his price.'
Johnny shrugged and grimaced. ‘Oh, well, that's not so terrible, is it? I mean, working for Thorne you won't be underpaid, will you? I thought at first you meant …’ He stopped. ‘Why the long looks? Nursing for him will be a darn sight easier than slogging away in that hospital of yours.'
Emma stared at him as though seeing him for the first time. ‘Honestly, Johnny, you really are the limit! You know perfectly well that I enjoy my work, and I was due for promotion. I don't want to give it all up to go play nanny to a small child. But you don't care about me at all, do you? Just so long as you get away scot free!'
Johnny looked uncomfortable. ‘Don't be like that, old girl.'
‘Don't call me “old girl”,’ she cried angrily. ‘Anyway, you may not be so pleased with yourself when I tell you that I shall be leaving England. Annabel lives in the Bahamas. Damon Thorne has a house there, on one of the Cays not far from New Providence.'
‘What!’ Johnny was disturbed now. ‘But what about me … the flat?'
Because the hospital where Emma worked was close by the flat, she had been able to spend all her free time there. She was virtually Johnny's housekeeper, and did all the cooking and cleaning, the shopping and mending. She had not minded; since Damon Thorne there had been no men in her life of any consequence, and Johnny had come to rely on her completely.
‘I'm sorry,’ she said now. ‘But that is the price we have to pay. Either I agree to Damon's request, and go out to Sainte Dominique to take charge of Annabel, or you go to prison, it's as simple as that.'
Johnny clenched his fists angrily. ‘How typical of him to impose conditions,’ he exclaimed pettishly.
‘Johnny! You were the one to get us into this mess,’ replied Emma, unable to prevent herself defending Damon Thorne. After all, his conditions were not exactly stringent.
‘I know, I know. You needn't keep reminding me. But it's typical of him that he should do something so utterly despicable so that I suffer whatever happens.'
‘Oh, Johnny!'
‘Well, it's true, isn't it? Good lord, there are plenty of agencies in London where he could obtain a nurse or companion or whatever he wants with twice as many qualifications as you have for taking care of the kid. How old is