Emma Read Online Free Page A

Richard – and a church social isn’t like a public dance.’
    As Richard well knew! He’d chosen his target well.
    ‘I’m not sure.’ I wrinkled my nose. ‘It would be nice to go out, but he might take it as a sign I liked him – that I wanted him to court me.’
    ‘He isn’t all that bad,’ Mother said. ‘Especially when he’s dressed up. You could do worse, Emma. If you were courting him, your father would have to let you go to the pictures and things.’
    ‘I don’t know.’ Richard had looked different and I supposed I might get to like him if I let myself. ‘I’d like to think about it for a day or two.’
    ‘Well, don’t think about it too long,’ she said. ‘I doubt he’ll hang around for ever. If you don’t want him, there’s plenty of girls who will.’

Chapter Two
    It had just started to rain that afternoon, and foolishly I had come out in only a thin dress and cardigan. I peered anxiously up at the sky, which was overcast but not black. Was it going to be simply a shower or should I go back for my coat and umbrella?
    ‘Get in before it really starts. I’ll give you a lift wherever you’re going.’
    The man’s voice startled me, making me swing round sharply. I’d been vaguely aware of the car pulling into the kerb behind me, but hadn’t taken much notice. I didn’t know anyone who owned a car, though several of Father’s business friends had vans for delivering goods.
    No one around here had a car like this one! It was too luxurious, too expensive. Staring at the driver fixedly for a moment, I was surprised to discover I recognized him.
    ‘Mr Greenslade …’
    ‘You remembered. I’m flattered.’ He leaned across to open the passenger-side door. ‘Come on, Miss Robinson. I’m not dangerous. I won’t ravish you against your will. Tell me where you want to go and I’ll deliver you safely – scout’s honour!’
    His teasing made me laugh. I’d never met anyone like this before. I glanced over my shoulder, wondering if anyone was watching, noting the fact that Emma Robinson was talking to a stranger, then felt a surge of rebellion. Who cared? I had a perfect excuse for getting into the car, because the rain was getting worse. Besides, he wasn’t a complete stranger. I had sort of met him before. He had been into the shop to buy cigarettes at least three times now, and on two of those occasions my father had served him personally. He hadn’t asked me out or even seemed to notice me particularly after the first time, which was probably just as well.
    ‘Thank you,’ I said, making up my mind and sliding into the car beside him. The seats were covered in leather and smelled nice. ‘This is a Bentley, isn’t it? I’ve never seen one close to before.’
    ‘It belongs to my father,’ he said, glancing my way as he pulled away from the kerb. ‘I couldn’t afford this on my salary. I shall have to wait until the old boy snuffs it and leaves me this one.’
    I was a little shocked by his casual reference to his father’s death, but didn’t let it show. The rich were different. I’d heard my father say it often enough, and was sure he was right. They had different moral values, different standards to ordinary folk.
    ‘It’s lovely,’ I said, to cover a slight awkwardness. ‘If you meant it about giving me a lift, I’m going to my grandmother’s. She lives in a cottage by the line. Mother Jacobs they call her – but you wouldn’t know that, not being local.’
    ‘As a matter of fact I have heard of her. I’m working for the railway myself at the moment. I’m an architect. I design things – bridges, tunnels, boring things like that.’
    ‘That’s why you’re here several times a week, then?’ I looked at him curiously. ‘At least, you’ve been into the shop a few times this past week.’
    ‘You noticed? Yes, I’ve been having preliminary meetings, discussions with civil engineers. They’re talking about a new bridge on the Peterborough line, but at the