Emma shook her head. ‘I know nothing more than I've told you. I don't know why he wants me, from his attitude I should say he positively despises me.'
‘There you are, then. He's merely taking you to spite me.'
Emma sighed. ‘Well, whatever his reasons are, we have to accept them. I don't suppose you're prepared to go to prison to spite him, are you?'
Johnny bent his head. ‘No,’ he grunted disagreeably. ‘And how long do you expect to be away? What will I do after you've gone?'
‘I don't know, Johnny, I honestly don't know. It worries me just as much as you, believe me.'
‘What are the arrangements, then? He decided this pretty quickly, didn't he?'
Emma bit her lip. ‘Oh, lord, I forgot to tell you. He already knew what you'd done. He was expecting me.'
‘The swine!’ swore Johnny furiously. ‘I might have known nothing could go on in those offices without his knowing everything about it!'
‘Well, it makes no difference really. It saved me a lot of explanations, that's all. We must just accept it.’ Emma slipped off her shoes, and then glanced at her watch. ‘Gosh, it's almost one. I have to be back on duty at two, and I have my resignation to write out, too.'
Johnny moved about restlessly. ‘When do you leave?'
‘In a little over two weeks, I believe. His secretary is going to contact me and give me all the details. I suppose I'll have to buy some summer clothes – after all, it may be January here, but it's very warm in the Bahamas all year round.'
Johnny made a disgruntled gesture. ‘Just imagine,’ he muttered. ‘I'm stuck here and you're going to be have the time of your life.'
Emma, who had risen to her feet, swung round on him. Without her shoes she was only a little over five feet in height, but as Johnny was only five feet six himself it was not noticeable. ‘You really are the most selfish person I've ever met,’ she exclaimed hotly. ‘I don't particularly care where I'm going; I wanted to stay here – my friends are here, my work is here. Do you honestly imagine some isolated island, even if it is situated in a marvellous climate, can compensate for the things I'm going to give up? And most of all, how do you think I feel about living in Damon Thorne's household, as a member of his staff, subject to his commands?'
Johnny had the grace to look a little embarrassed at last. ‘I suppose it will be pretty grim. After all, the life in Nassau is hardly the life you're going to be leading, is it? I'm sorry, Em. I guess I was a bit callous. I shall just have to get my meals out and take my laundry to the laundromat.'
‘Yes,’ said Emma slowly. ‘So long as you do that. For goodness’ sake, don't go around looking like a tramp, just because I'm not here to look after you.'
Johnny grimaced. ‘I'm not a complete idiot, you know. But what about my job? Am I still employed, or not?'
‘He says you can stay on, although naturally the amount you took will be deducted in weekly instalments from your salary.'
‘Naturally,’ muttered Johnny glumly. ‘Oh, well, that's that, then.'
Emma glanced at him, and then turning away walked into the bathroom. She had to change, and there might just be time to snatch a snack in the hospital canteen before she was back on the ward.
During the next two weeks Emma did not give herself time to dwell on the reasons behind Damon Thorne's demand for her services. Her days were full with her work, and with obtaining the necessary clothes and documents which would take her to Nassau, and at night, if she could not sleep, she took a sleeping pill and refused to consider the consequences.
The staff at the hospital were naturally curious about her sudden resignation, and she had had to let it be known that she was taking up a post with Damon Thorne's household in the Bahamas.
‘But, darling,’ her friend Joanna Denham had exclaimed, ‘didn't you once know him rather well? I mean, his name is certainly familiar. Isn't he that American property millionaire you once ran around with?'
Emma had stifled her embarrassment, and replied airily: ‘He's only half-American, actually. His mother was English. And yes, I did used to know him, but not … awfully well.'
Their relationship, hers and Damon Thorne's, had been in the days before Joanna came to the hospital. She could only have heard gossip and Emma had no intention of illustrating their association. Instead, she made it sound as though they had merely been acquaintances.
‘Well, anyway,’ Joanna continued, ‘I think you're doing the right thing. Working in a hospital is all very well, but I'd give anything for a bit of sunshine myself.'
Emma had let her resignation sound as though it was her decision, and not the result of coercion. Her one regret was that the Matron of the hospital had had such faith in her, and now it looked as though she was ungrateful for all the Matron had done for her. But it was impossible to explain, without involving Johnny, and after all, this was wholly for his benefit.
The night before she left the hospital, the nurses threw a party for her, and afterwards they went back to the flat for a final nightcap. Apart from Emma and five other nurses, there were two medical students, two housemen, Johnny, and Martin Webster, a friend of his.
They were a noisy crowd, and Emma thought regretfully that it would be a long time before she enjoyed herself so much again. They put on the record player, and danced to records, and teased Emma about the kind of life she was going to have. They all seemed to envy her, and Emma was beginning to think that it might not be so bad after all. Damon Thorne was hardly likely to be around much. He was too restless a man, too concerned with the power of his empire. And it was quite a way from London to Nassau, even in these days of fast travel. It wasn't so far from New York, of course, but she doubted his capacity for finding an island entertaining for long.
She was in the kitchen, making coffee, when the doorbell rang. Johnny went to answer it, thinking it might be one of their neighbours coming to complain about the noise. But instead, Damon Thorne stood on the threshold.
Emma had come to the kitchen door, to see what was going on, and when her eyes met those of Damon Thorne's her heart almost stopped beating.
Johnny stepped back, and shrugged his shoulders. ‘Are you coming in, Mr. Thorne?’ he asked sardonically.
Damon barely glanced at him, but stepped past him into the lounge. His bulk seemed to dominate the room, and the girls and boys stopped dancing and watched him.
‘Can I see you for a minute, Emma?’ he asked, his eyes surveying the debris of full ashtrays and empty glasses.
Emma bit her lip. ‘I … well … as you can see, there's a party going on,’ she said awkwardly. ‘Couldn't it wait until the morning?'
‘I'm afraid not. The kitchen will do.'
He crossed the room, the others stepping back to allow him passage as though it was his right, and Emma grimaced to herself and stood back into the small kitchen. Damon followed her in, and firmly closed the door behind him, leaning back against it. Immediately, they could hear the others begin talking and laughing again, and Emma relaxed a little.
‘What do you want?’ she asked, untying the apron which she had worn over her orange pleated dress.
Damon's eyes travelled the length of her body, and then returned to rest on her mouth for a moment, unconsciously disturbing Emma's emotions. Despite his age, there was more power and vitality emanating from him than from any of the younger men in the other room, and beside him they seemed almost youthful and unsophisticated and very inexperienced.
Then he shrugged, and drew out his cigar case. ‘Actually, I came to assure myself that you were keeping your side of the bargain,’ he remarked casually, and in so doing arousing Emma's annoyance. ‘Johnny will have told you his mistakes have all been rectified.'
‘He hasn't mentioned it,’ replied