Page 102 of Never Gonna Happen

‘What meeting? Where? With who?’

Emily gave him her best resting bitch face, hugging the coffee mug to stop her hands from shaking. ‘Obviously I’m not going to tell you that.’

Adam bared his teeth and strode across the room towards her. She backed away, suddenly aware how alone she was. There was nobody in the house to help her – no Mr Hunter, no Jamie, no Leon. She could see that Adam’s face was red and sweaty. What had he heard?

‘Don’t give me that shit,’ he snarled. ‘Where are they?’

Emily looked at him coolly. ‘You can shout at me all you like, Adam. I don’t work for you, and I’m not going to tell you.’

Adam cast around Mr Hunter’s desk for papers or a diary, like Emily was stupid enough to leave evidence of Mr Hunter’s whereabouts lying around. He huffed in frustration, then marched into her office. She quickly followed, confident that he’d find nothing there either – Mr Hunter’s diary was entirely digital and her laptop was currently a screensaver of Rudy the dog. So unless Adam planned to torture her for her password, he wasn’t getting access to any emails or appointments. Every document relating to today’s meeting had been carefully filed under Neil Turner, hidden in a nondescript filing cabinet. Adam could turn the place upside down for hours and remain entirely ignorant.

He spotted her notebook on the desk and gave a triumphant smile. She reached out to grab it but he got there first, holding it out of her reach as he riffled through the thin blue pages. Emily’s heart leapt into her mouth – she’d made hundreds of notes in there.

‘What is this shit?’ demanded Adam, waving the open book at her.

‘It’s shorthand,’ said Emily, taking deep breaths as she put her mug in the kitchen and mopped the coffee off her jumper with a tea towel. Stand your ground, tell him nothing, don’t let him think you’re scared of him.

‘What does it mean? It’s fucking hieroglyphics.’

‘Yeah, I’m not going to tell you that either.’

‘You think you’re so clever,’ said Adam, bearing down on her. ‘But you’re nothing. You’re not fit to lick my brother’s boots. He’s just using you as a convenient fuck. He told me the best thing about common girls is they like it dirty.’

Emily didn’t mean to laugh, but she couldn’t help it. The idea that Jamie would ever say those words, particularly to Adam, was completely ludicrous.

Adam had been teetering on the edge since he came into his father’s office, but Emily’s reaction sent him into orbit. ‘Don’t you dare fucking laugh at me,’ he spat, grabbing Emily’s wrist and pushing her shoulder against the wall of the kitchen. She could smell his aftershave and the cigarettes on his breath and thought she might be sick.

‘What on earth is going on?’ said a voice. Adam dropped Emily’s wrist like a hot poker and stepped away. Anna was standing in the doorway to the office, her mouth hanging open in horror.

‘What do YOU want?’ boomed Adam, his face purple with rage.

‘Get away from her right now,’ said Anna. ‘Before I call the police.’

He walked to the window and took a few deep breaths, clearly aware that this situation was no longer in his control. ‘It was nothing,’ he said briskly, straightening his jacket. ‘Just a misunderstanding.’

‘Are you OK?’ said Anna, looking at Emily.

She nodded, her knees shaking and her lips pressed together to stop herself throwing up.

Anna turned to Adam. ‘Get out.’

Adam laughed. ‘You can’t tell me to get out, it’s my fucking house.’

Anna put her face six inches from his. ‘It’s your father’s house,’ she said quietly, ‘and if he was here right now he’d be chasing you down the drive with a shotgun.’

Adam’s face turned scarlet. ‘But he’s not here, so I’ll leave when I’m fucking ready,’ he snarled.

‘I will be happy to show you out,’ said a male voice. Leon’s frame filled the doorway, his fists clenched. He was twice the size of Adam and could snap him like a wishbone.

Adam looked at the three of them, his nostrils flaring, then shoved past Leon and fled. Emily waited until she could hear him running down the stairs, then clamped a hand over her mouth as she let out a sob. Anna gathered her into her arms and nodded towards the kitchen at Leon, who walked through and put the kettle on. She held Emily tight and stroked her hair, whispering sssh-ing noises as they stood by the window and listened to Adam’s Aston Martin burning rubber down the drive.

‘He’s gone,’ said Anna, handing Emily a lace-edged handkerchief.

‘Thank you.’ Emily honked her nose into the hanky and took a few deep breaths. ‘I don’t know what would have happened if you hadn’t come.’

‘What did he want?’ asked Leon, handing her a mug of tea and patting her gently on the shoulder. She’d never seen him look so upset and angry.

She shrugged. ‘Information. I wouldn’t give it to him.’