TOYL

back office,’ Marie said. ‘Just come around the counter and follow me.’
    Emma waited as Marie stood over the answering machine, pressing various buttons. Her heart was racing with anticipation. She hadn’t heard Dan’s voice in days now, and she didn’t know how she would react if it was indeed Dan who had left the message. She couldn’t deny that a part of her still refused to believe that it had been Dan who had cancelled the wedding dress.
    ‘This should be it,’ said Marie, pressing a button and stepping back from the machine.
    Hello, it’s Dan Carlton here. I was with Emma Holden.
    Emma felt sick; it was Dan, although his voice sounded subtly different than usual – almost automated, yet there seemed a hint of a quiver.
    She asked me to call you, to cancel the wedding dress. We’re not together anymore. Sorry for the late notice. Thanks, bye.
    The machine beeped off.
    ‘That was the whole message?’ Emma said.
    ‘Sorry,’ Marie said, ‘that was all we got. That’s why I thought it was best to give you a call and just confirm what Dan told us.’
    ‘Thanks. I’m relieved really – at least I know he’s okay.’
    Marie looked puzzled, but tried to hide her interest.
    ‘Dan disappeared last Friday,’ Emma explained. ‘And that’s the first time I’ve heard from him since.’
    ‘Oh, I’m so sorry. He just left without saying anything?’
    Emma nodded.
    ‘That’s awful,’ said Marie, ‘really awful.’
    Emma held back the tears until she stepped out of the shop. Then the floodgates opened, and she ducked into an alleyway to hide her embarrassment. She wasn’t used to showing her weakness in public – she’d always had to be the strong one for the family – and she wasn’t about to let herself down now. She dried her eyes. Again she had been a fool, first putting her trust in someone who had let her down, and then refusing to believe the reality of the situation when it was clear to see.
    She leant against the brick wall. Her first reaction was to call Lizzy, but she would be in the middle of rehearsals by now. Instead she called Will, but the call rang through to his message service. Lastly she called her dad.
    ‘Oh, hi, Emma,’ he said, sounding distracted. Emma could hear his girlfriend Miranda talking in the background, continuing the conversation that her call had obviously interrupted.
    ‘I was wondering if we could have a chat,’ Emma said, trying to block out the incessant chattering in the background.
    ‘Sure, sure, how about you come around here in say, an hour or two?’
    ‘That would be good, Dad.’
    ‘Great, great, I’ll get Miranda to rustle up something to eat as well.’
    ‘We’re supposed to be going out, to the art gallery,’ Emma heard Miranda protest, probably deliberately loud enough for her to hear.
    ‘Just a second,’ her dad said to Emma.
    A few seconds of silence followed, and Emma guessed he was moving into another room.
    ‘Sorry about that,’ he said in a whisper. ‘I didn’t want Miranda to hear what I was going to say.’
    ‘Go on.’ Emma was intrigued and also happy that there were at least some things that were still sacrosanct between father and daughter.
    ‘I’m glad you rang, Emma,’ he said. ‘I’ve got something to tell you – something I should have told you about some time ago.’

25

    ‘Oh, hi,’ said Miranda, feigning surprise as she opened the door and saw Emma standing there. ‘Sorry, I’m just in the middle of preparing some food, so things are a bit disorganised in here at the moment.’
    She was wearing an apron and her hands were speckled with flour. She still managed to look stunning though – although she was only thirty-one, over two decades younger than Edward. It had taken Emma a long time to get used to the fact that her dad was living with someone only three years older than herself. In truth, she wasn’t sure she would ever get used to the idea. Even though her mum was dead, and she wanted her dad to be happy, there would probably always be a part of her that resented Miranda.
    ‘That’s okay,’ Emma said, as she followed Miranda into the house. It was still weird being in the family home she had grown up in and seeing another woman there, in charge of the household. It felt as if Miranda was trampling on Emma’s memories.
    They emerged into the open dining room/kitchen area to be greeted by an impressive spread of food.
    ‘We’re having some of my work colleagues over for dinner,’