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Authors: Juliet Archer
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wouldn’t you say?’
‘ Not if – ’
She ignored me and pressed on, filling the cups with tea as she spoke. ‘Apparently it takes two thousand litres of water a year to grow the fodder to yield just one litre of milk. That’s not just unsustainable, it’s unethical!’ She looked across at me, her eyes bright with triumph.
I took one of the cups and helped myself to sugar. ‘Is this an attempt to discredit me and persuade Henry to abandon the mentoring?’
‘ Of course not, I just thought it was interesting. Although, now you come to mention it, I’m sure Dad would have something to say.’
‘ I’m sure he would, if those statistics were true of Donwell Organics’ growers. But they’re not, and maybe you should have checked your facts first.’
I took a sip of tea and watched the gleam in her eyes fade.
‘ You see, Emma,’ I said, half amused, half exasperated, ‘I have a very good Indian friend called Vivek, a retired civil servant and a great reader. He discovered that a form of irrigation known as rainwater harvesting was used in India until the early nineteenth century and decided that this practice needed to be revived. Donwell buys all of his village’s organic produce, so he came to me to explain what he planned to do and ask for some financial assistance.’
I paused to drink my tea while she stared down at the table, her face like thunder.
‘ With our backing,’ I continued, ‘Vivek redesigned his village’s drainage system to slow the passage of the monsoon rain long enough for it to collect in specially dug ponds. The water percolates into the soil and refills underground reserves. This means wells can find water at seven metres instead of thirty metres previously. It’s a truly sustainable system. So, yes, in general terms organic farming is causing India a major environmental problem. But Donwell is repairing whatever damage it’s responsible for, we’re funding initiatives like Vivek’s right across the country. Sorry to disappoint you, but we’re not being unethical.’
She made a show of looking at her watch. ‘Thanks for the lecture, didn’t you say you had to be somewhere at six?’
As she reached over for my half-empty cup, I seized her hand. Our eyes locked. That jumper really did bring out the green in her irises …
‘ No rush,’ I said softly. ‘I’ve put off seeing Steve until seven thirty, I thought it only fair since you couldn’t have known that Harriet and Kate would turn up so unexpectedly this afternoon.’
She looked startled, then she laughed. ‘God, I’d forgotten how bloody devious you can be.’
I grinned back at her. ‘Takes one to know one.’ Her hand stirred in mine and, as if responding to some deep dark instinct, I ran my thumb over her smooth warm skin. It was more the gesture of a lover than an old friend. She didn’t even flinch, as if to her it was nothing remarkable.
I abruptly let go of her hand and took a long drink of lukewarm tea. Then I pictured a little girl with plaits and braces and no boobs and spent the next hour discussing her personal goals, business strategy and marketing plans. It felt odd talking about such things with her, but of course she’d always been a precocious child.
I’d cracked it. All it involved was doing two things in parallel: making my mouth say ‘Emma’ and my eyes see ‘Mouse’.
Chapter Three
~~EMMA~~
After several delays, including Harriet catching a nasty cold, the day of the photo shoot arrived. It seemed that half of Highbury was planning to attend.
First, Philip wanted to be involved, from the crack of dawn if need be. I managed to put him off until lunch time, when Harriet would be dressed, made up and ready to be admired. I arranged that the three of us would go to his house after I’d taken the photos, to do all the editing and printing. My plan was then to leave the two of them together and let nature take its course.
Next, Dad decided he’d better be on hand,
‘ Not if – ’
She ignored me and pressed on, filling the cups with tea as she spoke. ‘Apparently it takes two thousand litres of water a year to grow the fodder to yield just one litre of milk. That’s not just unsustainable, it’s unethical!’ She looked across at me, her eyes bright with triumph.
I took one of the cups and helped myself to sugar. ‘Is this an attempt to discredit me and persuade Henry to abandon the mentoring?’
‘ Of course not, I just thought it was interesting. Although, now you come to mention it, I’m sure Dad would have something to say.’
‘ I’m sure he would, if those statistics were true of Donwell Organics’ growers. But they’re not, and maybe you should have checked your facts first.’
I took a sip of tea and watched the gleam in her eyes fade.
‘ You see, Emma,’ I said, half amused, half exasperated, ‘I have a very good Indian friend called Vivek, a retired civil servant and a great reader. He discovered that a form of irrigation known as rainwater harvesting was used in India until the early nineteenth century and decided that this practice needed to be revived. Donwell buys all of his village’s organic produce, so he came to me to explain what he planned to do and ask for some financial assistance.’
I paused to drink my tea while she stared down at the table, her face like thunder.
‘ With our backing,’ I continued, ‘Vivek redesigned his village’s drainage system to slow the passage of the monsoon rain long enough for it to collect in specially dug ponds. The water percolates into the soil and refills underground reserves. This means wells can find water at seven metres instead of thirty metres previously. It’s a truly sustainable system. So, yes, in general terms organic farming is causing India a major environmental problem. But Donwell is repairing whatever damage it’s responsible for, we’re funding initiatives like Vivek’s right across the country. Sorry to disappoint you, but we’re not being unethical.’
She made a show of looking at her watch. ‘Thanks for the lecture, didn’t you say you had to be somewhere at six?’
As she reached over for my half-empty cup, I seized her hand. Our eyes locked. That jumper really did bring out the green in her irises …
‘ No rush,’ I said softly. ‘I’ve put off seeing Steve until seven thirty, I thought it only fair since you couldn’t have known that Harriet and Kate would turn up so unexpectedly this afternoon.’
She looked startled, then she laughed. ‘God, I’d forgotten how bloody devious you can be.’
I grinned back at her. ‘Takes one to know one.’ Her hand stirred in mine and, as if responding to some deep dark instinct, I ran my thumb over her smooth warm skin. It was more the gesture of a lover than an old friend. She didn’t even flinch, as if to her it was nothing remarkable.
I abruptly let go of her hand and took a long drink of lukewarm tea. Then I pictured a little girl with plaits and braces and no boobs and spent the next hour discussing her personal goals, business strategy and marketing plans. It felt odd talking about such things with her, but of course she’d always been a precocious child.
I’d cracked it. All it involved was doing two things in parallel: making my mouth say ‘Emma’ and my eyes see ‘Mouse’.
Chapter Three
~~EMMA~~
After several delays, including Harriet catching a nasty cold, the day of the photo shoot arrived. It seemed that half of Highbury was planning to attend.
First, Philip wanted to be involved, from the crack of dawn if need be. I managed to put him off until lunch time, when Harriet would be dressed, made up and ready to be admired. I arranged that the three of us would go to his house after I’d taken the photos, to do all the editing and printing. My plan was then to leave the two of them together and let nature take its course.
Next, Dad decided he’d better be on hand,
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