Hello fellow readers! I am back with another chapter! I had just celebrated my birthday and my goodness I had a good birthday with a couple of surprises from my workplace and family.
I just came back from an adrenaline-rush day at work and wanted to release this now. But I am feeling better now I am back at home.
Anyways, enjoy chapter 3 - An Old Friend.
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April 1922. The whole house was animated in order to prepare for the visit of the honoured opera singer, Dame Nellie Melba, as well as the hoard of guests that were coming to see her and hear the dame sing. Emma was quite looking forward to seeing some old friends. She had heard from her Mama that were some people coming that she hadn't seen before the war such as Anthony Foyle, who she hadn't seen when she was a child and they played tag in the grounds with Mary, Edith and Sybil. Even Violet's friends were coming such as Dowager Duchess of Yeovil, who she hadn't seen since the garden party many years ago.
Emma went down along with her sisters to greet the guests as they arrived. She stood in the corner of the hall and watched the guests file into the room. All familiar faces yet some were strangers. It was quite strange to see young faces morphed into mature due to years and memory. She felt a jolt of contentment when her Mama said, 'Johnnie Gillingham's son.' Emma made her way over to him, hoping to talk to him.
'Goodness, is that little Tony Foyle?' Emma asked teasingly, crooking her head to see the man.
He turned to face her and Emma saw he had grown into a fine-looking man with dark eyes and hair, he was quite handsome and he had an air of friendliness around him.
'Emmy?' he inquired in surprise.
Emma embraced him quickly.
'I hear it's Tony Gillingham now, is that right?'
'Yes, that's right,' he said smiled shyly, 'It's been a long time since I saw you. How are you?'
'Fine,' she said, quirking her eyebrow, 'And you?'
'I'm well.'
'Good.'
'Emmy?' A deep voice asked.
Emma turned and saw a man who was fine-looking with square face, black wavy hair, thick eyebrows, he had a strong jaw line and sky-blue eyes. He smiled crookedly and he was wearing a charcoal grey suit. He seemed well built, nothing like the boy from her memories who spilled lemonade on her dress.
'Jack Crowley?' Emma said in surprise.
'Golly, it has been fifteen years.' Jack said, smiling a little and showing his perfect white teeth.
Emma engaged in a quick hug and she couldn't deny he smelled really good, it reminded strongly of her late husband.
'Although last I heard you were now Lord Branston.' Emma said, holding onto his shoulders, she even felt his muscles.
