Sunday dawned fresh and bright. The church’s bells rang out a jolly welcome, but when Gabbie looked out of her bedroom window, huge, bulbous clouds hung over its spire, their bruised underbellies threatening a deluge. Orange and yellow leaves dotted the village green, signalling the fact that autumn had well and truly arrived.
Gabbie contemplated the possibility of staying in bed to relive every delicious moment of the previous night – and to prolong the exquisitely intimate dream she had enjoyed starring Max in the central role. It was Sunday after all; the garage was closed, she had tidied every room in the house, dealt with the accounts as far as she could, and the flowerbeds were looking as neat as they had when her mum had been in charge of the gardening. However, she had never been one to wallow, preferring action to contemplation, and she really needed to pin her father down to talk about the business.
She jumped into the shower, towel-dried her hair and twisted it into a high ponytail. Selecting a pair of dark-blue jeans and a sunflower-yellow sweater that matched her mood, she added a little blusher to her cheeks, a generous spray of her signature perfume, and she was ready to face the world head-on. She made it as far as the bedroom door, paused, then skipped back for her lipstick. A girl couldn’t get through the day without a dash of lippy, whatever destiny had in store!
‘Hey, Gabbie? You awake yet? There’s scrambled egg on toast if you come down to the kitchen now!’
She grinned, relieved her father had taken so quickly to his more health-conscious diet, and galloped down the stairs to claim her breakfast
‘Hi, Dad. How was your trip to Bickleigh yesterday?’
‘Great. I bought the bow and a set of new arrows, too. Can’t wait to try them out this afternoon at the club.’
‘What shoot are you doing?’
‘It’s a Vegas – so that should put the bow through its paces!’
Gabbie smiled at the person she loved most in the world. His eyes sparkled at the excitement of owning a new bow, regardless of the fact that he and Mike probably had at least a dozen between them. She didn’t want to rain on his parade, but she knew there was no better time to broach the subject that had become a massive elephant in the kitchen. She swallowed her last bite of toast, took a fortifying sip of her coffee and turned to face him.
‘Dad, we need to talk.’
Jeff’s eyes dropped to his mug and he exhaled a long sigh of resignation.
‘I know we do, sweetheart,’ her father said, offering her a weak smile. ‘And I owe you an apology because I have been avoiding you. I know you’ve finished going through the books. I’ve seen the worry on your face and I’m upset I caused that.’
‘You haven’t caused it, Dad.’
‘It’s my fault I let the accounts slide, but the paperwork was always your mum’s arena – she did an amazing job over the years. I just couldn’t face…’ Jeff gulped down on the surge of emotions, struggling to catch his breath.
‘Dad…’
‘No, let me finish. I should have realised how bad things were getting and paid for some professional help. I should have found a bookkeeper and left everything in their capable hands instead of soldiering on. Now look what’s happened. The bank refused to extend the overdraft and when I eventually got an appointment to see their business advisor, she said she couldn’t agree to a loan until she’d seen the accounts – which, as you know, were in no fit state, so, well… Oh God, Gabbie, what if I lose the garage? What will happen to Max and Wil?’
Gabbie’s heart softened – it was typical of her father to think about other people before himself. No matter that the business which had been in the family for three generations was teetering on the verge of liquidation, what about its employees? For a moment she was overwhelmed with love for the man opposite her, his face creased with trepidation, and she resolved there and then to do whatever she could to come up with a strategy for rescuing the situation before it was too late.
‘Dad, you have to let me come with you to the bank at the end of the month. I’ve managed to identify what the problem is. There are three rather sizeable outstanding invoices, but I don’t understand why we can’t pay them and I need more time to get to the bottom of it. If we can just get the bank to agree to a short-term loan to cover these, I think we might be able to work things through.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘Yes. Now, don’t worry.’
‘I’m so lucky to have you, Gabbie. I love you, you know that, don’t you? I might not tell you as often as I should, but I’m so grateful you decided to come home when you did. Now, enough of my woes. Let’s talk about you. First of all, I want to know what happened last night? How was your blind date?’
‘Well, you’re never going to believe this,’ laughed Gabbie, before going on to explain who Clara had set her up with and what an amazing time they’d had, but leaving out the epilogue, which had involved a very enjoyable goodnight kiss.
Jeff laughed, his eyes twinkling.
‘Always did say Clara knew you better than you know yourself! I’m delighted to see you’re back on the dating horse, darling. Max is a decent guy and you could do a lot worse. He’s honest, hard-working and an amazingly intuitive mechanic – in fact, he has the same affinity with engines as you and Sofia with fragrances, and he’s just as passionate. And what about the job hunt? How’s that going?’
Before she had tumbled into the oblivion of sleep the previous night, she had decided to wait until the next morning to see if her sensible side trampled over her fledgling dreams. If she did take the plunge and go freelance, she knew her father would be right behind her, urging her onwards and upwards.
‘I’m actually toying with the idea of starting my own perfume business, Dad. What do you think? I’ll start small, maybe just use the essential oils in the summerhouse to start with, and expand as I build my reputation and client base. That way I’ll be able to stay here in Oakley and contribute to the garage finances – it won’t be much, but it might be enough.’
‘Gabbie, what’s going on at the garage isn’t your problem. It’s up to me to sort…’
‘Hello? Is anyone home?’
‘Hi, Mike, come on in, the door’s open,’ called Jeff.
‘Morning, Gabbie. Did your dad tell you about his new bow?’
‘He did – and the new set of arrows!’
‘Yeah, the problem is we can resist anything except temptation! Say, why don’t you come along to the centre this afternoon and watch the shoot? It’s a Vegas, which should be fun.’
Gabbie smiled at her father’s best friend, who had walked by his side through good times and dreadful times, their friendship carrying him through the darkest hours. Mike and his wife, Helen, always invited her father along to everything they did, which had kept him going on the days when things were especially tough: anniversaries, birthdays, Christmas.
‘You know what? I’d like that.’
‘Great.’
Mike eased himself into one of the chairs at the kitchen table with a grunt of discomfort.
‘What’s up?’ asked Jeff.
Mike cast a quick glance at Gabbie before saying, ‘Oh, it’s nothing.’
‘Sure it is. Looks like you’re in a bit of pain?’
Mike sighed and shuffled around in his seat to get more comfortable. ‘I think I might have overdone it with the curry last night. Shouldn’t have had that beef Madras, always plays havoc with my stomach. Should have stuck with the chicken korma.’
Mike leaned back in his chair and rubbed his abdomen in an effort to relieve the discomfort. Having conveniently failed to mention their sneaky diversion to The Raj in the next village, Jeff glanced guiltily at Gabbie and she rolled her eyes at him.
‘Sorry, sweetheart.’
She laughed. ‘It’s okay, Dad. You’re entitled to have a few beers and a curry with your friends on a Saturday night. Just don’t want you to do it every night, that’s all. Where’s the pain, Mike?’
Mike grimaced and pointed out the exact spot. ‘Chemist is shut, so I’ll just have to put up with the consequences of my overindulgence. I don’t think I feel up to taking part in the competition this afternoon, but I’ll be an enthusiastic spectator, don’t worry.’
‘Hang on. I might have something that will help. Just give me a minute…’
Gabbie left the men in the kitchen and made her way to the summerhouse. This time, when she unlocked the door, it occurred to her that she was becoming a more frequent visitor than she had expected. Could it be that her sorrow was subsiding? Or could it have something to do with Max’s encouraging her to ensure that what she had created in the little wooden cabin in the garden lived on as a fitting tribute to her mother? Perhaps it was a combination of both of these things because the harsh stab of loss she had felt during her previous forays was absent this time. All that was on her mind was what to prescribe to alleviate Mike’s pain, but she knew immediately.
She reached for the flask containing the peppermint oil, unscrewed the lid and inhaled. Ah, she loved that smell, so clean, so fresh, the sharp menthol aroma never failing to give her spirits a lift. But the oil was also known to deliver relief to a clogged digestive system and therefore the perfect treatment for Mike – it had worked every time for her mum when she had the same symptoms, even after a light meal of toast and jam.
With her mother’s approval ringing in her ears, she trotted back to the kitchen where she added a couple of drops to a glass of water before handing it to Mike, who gave her a sceptical look, crinkling up his nose as though she’d handed him a drink laced with arsenic.
‘What’s this?’
‘It’s only peppermint oil.’
‘How will that work?’
‘Give it a go.’
Mike shrugged his shoulders and downed it in one, licking his lips.
‘Tastes okay. I’ll let you know what happens. See you later, Jeff? Bye, Gabbie, and thanks.’
Mike left them sitting at the kitchen table, waving his goodbyes through the window as he made his way to his ancient Renault Laguna estate.
‘If he turns up to the shoot and wins gold, I’ll be cursing your well-intended intervention!’ laughed Jeff, slinging his arm around Gabbie’s shoulders and dropping a kiss on the top of her head. ‘Why don’t you go upstairs and fetch the old recurve bow from the spare room and I’ll sort you out with a sight and finger guard.’
Later, after Gabbie had made a valiant attempt to land at least one of her arrows in the straw boss to which the most minuscule of targets had been attached, her father sent her a ‘told you so’ look as Mike accepted the coveted gold medal.
‘Gabbie, darling, it’s great to see you home at last,’ said Helen, as the rising wind on the exposed archery field whipped her pewter-coloured hair into something more akin to a bird’s nest than Sunday best. The archery club colours of orange and navy blue suited her slender figure and she wore her leather quiver at a jaunty angle round her waist. ‘And thanks ever so much for helping Mike out earlier with one of your special potions. He was really upset when he woke up this morning with stomach cramps. It was his own fault, of course – too much beer and spicy food always has the same effect, but does he learn? You know, that peppermint oil really worked – well, you can see that for yourself.’
They looked across to where Mike was standing on the shooting line, holding his medal out in front of him, a broad smile on his lips while the club secretary took a few snaps for the monthly newsletter. Jeff looked on, proud of his friend’s triumph, his new bow cradled in his arms like a beloved pet.
The women giggled and moved forward to join them for a final photograph. Gabbie realised she had been so engrossed in her shooting that she hadn’t once thought about the state of the accounts or the dreaded meeting with the bank. She resolved to join her father more often for a session of father-daughter bonding.