Page 49 of Never Gonna Happen

Mr Hunter smiled at Emily with the joy and relief of a man who’d finally offloaded his family after ten days of festive disharmony. Tanya and Catherine had flown back to LA directly from Switzerland, and Adam and his family had headed back to London last night. Emily was relieved; after yesterday’s showdown in the pool she was very happy not to be swapping killer death stares with Adam in the corridors. She’d arrived in the office early today, getting the coffee machine going and opening the stack of post so everything was ready for Mr Hunter to kick off a new year.

‘I hear you and James are now an item,’ he said jovially, sipping his coffee and putting on his glasses. ‘Isn’t that what the young people call it?’

‘I believe so,’ said Emily, trying and failing not to blush.

‘I’m pleased for both of you; he’s a good chap. I’m sure he’ll take good care of you, but if you have any problems let me know and I’ll have him shot.’

Not if Leon strangles him first, thought Emily.

Mr Hunter steepled his hands under his chin and gave Emily a penetrating look over the top of his glasses. ‘I’m sure I don’t have to remind you that everything related to this estate, my business interests and what’s discussed in this office is strictly between us.’

Emily met his gaze. ‘You definitely don’t have to remind me of that, Mr Hunter.’

‘I thought not,’ he said, shuffling the papers on his desk, ‘but I feel better for having said it. So, main thing for today is for us to catch up on all the admin this morning, and then we need to plan a trip.’

‘What kind of trip?’ she asked, wondering where Mr Hunter was off to. He’d only got back from Switzerland yesterday.

‘Admin first,’ he said. ‘We’ll do travel this afternoon.’

Emily nodded and handed over the correspondence folder, organised into tabbed sections by business, estate, charities and personal. She uncapped the pen he’d bought her for Christmas, then opened her notebook.

Emily was pleased to see Sam back in the kitchen at lunchtime – he was a welcome relief from Anna throwing daggers in her direction, and Leon moping about like a teenage boy who’d had his PlayStation confiscated.

‘You look like the cat who got the cream, or the handsome horseman,’ said Sam with a chuckle, passing over a bowl of spiced seafood bouillon with noodles. It was one of her favourites, despite her initial reservations over bok choy, which looked a lot like cabbage. It turned out to be nothing like the kind of cabbage she’d eaten at school, although maybe that was just the way Sam cooked it. Perhaps one day he could teach her mum.

‘Shame not everybody shares my joy,’ said Emily with a shy smile. Both Anna and Leon had left not long after her arrival, so it was just her and Sam.

‘Ah, you’ll be a long time waiting if you’re trying to please everyone,’ he said sagely. ‘Leon will get over it, and Anna is just . . . Anna.’ He raised his eyebrows as if to ask who else had passed comment, but Emily gave a tiny shake of her head and carried on eating. Sam was the biggest gossip on the estate, and much as it would be nice to offload, she definitely wasn’t telling him about Adam.

‘How was your Christmas?’ she asked, wondering how he celebrated with all his extended family so far away.

‘Just at home with Gabrielle and the kids and grandkids,’ he said. ‘I don’t cook on Christmas Day – Gabrielle and my youngest son do a wonderful turkey. We talked to the family in Mauritius on FaceTime; the kids love seeing all their cousins.’

‘Have you ever taken them over for a holiday?’

‘No,’ he said. ‘It’s a long way and too expensive for a big family. I’m going over in June; my niece is getting married.’

‘That’s lovely. What are Mauritian weddings like?’

‘Ah, this one will be wonderful. There’ll be a party on the beach by my old restaurant; my sister Jessie runs it now, but it’s still called Sam’s Café. There’ll be a mix of traditions – Chinese, Indian, Creole. A big bonfire and food and music as the sun sets, dancing into the night.’

Emily tried to imagine the tropical heat and the music, but she had no frame of reference other than scenes from films. ‘It sounds amazing.’

‘England is home; it has been for a long time,’ said Sam. ‘But my heart is six thousand miles away.’

Emily checked through her list of Mr Hunter’s travel plans. Two days in London next week – Leon would drive him down on Sunday night, she just needed to let the London housekeeper know. A charity dinner in Edinburgh at the end of the month; there were direct flights from Norwich so that was easy. A potential trip to San Francisco in May to receive some kind of lifetime achievement award for his work in the gaming industry, although he’d asked her to check if there was any way he could accept the award by video because ‘it’s a bloody long way to fly for a round of applause’.

‘Anything else?’ she asked.

‘Actually, yes. I’d like to go and look at a hotel at the end of next week,’ said Mr Hunter. ‘It’s an interesting concept and I might want to invest.’

‘OK,’ she said, turning to a fresh page in her notebook.

‘I’d like to get a feel for it first, see if it’s the real deal. But the owners know who I am, and if I stay they’ll give me the VIP treatment.’

‘Hmm,’ said Emily. ‘Can you get someone else to stay there for you and report back?’

‘Well, yes. I thought you might be interested, actually.’