The evening before her interview, Gabbie took her time finishing the washing-up, breathing in the new fragrance she had been experimenting with to showcase to the WI, while humming one of Wil’s favourite reggae tunes. Over the course of the day, her brain had worked on her long list of problems and she had convinced herself everything was going to work out for the best. Her father would get the loan he needed, she would land the job at Carrington Cosmetics, and her salary would help tide them over until things improved. Her spirits lifted and she had just stepped out of the back door to check on the summerhouse when she saw Max hovering on the veranda, clearly waiting for her, irritation written boldly across his face.
‘Gabbie, is it true you’ve reneged on your promise to go with Jeff to the bank tomorrow?’
Her heart dropped like a stone down a well when she heard his accusatory tone.
‘Well, yes, but, as Dad probably told you, I’ve got an interview with one of the most amazing cosmetics companies in the UK and I’m hoping that…’
‘Can’t you reschedule it? The meeting at the bank is important – just a few days ago you were convinced the whole future of the garage rested on getting approval for a loan to pay off the Groves Autoparts invoice.’
‘Max, Dad and I spent the whole day yesterday going through the accounts together,’ she said, unable to keep the defensiveness from her voice. ‘I’ve also prepared a list of points he needs to make to persuade them that—’
‘But Jeff was relying on you being there, not just to state his case, but for the moral support.’
‘Dad’s okay with it. He’s a grown man, Max. He’s been to lots of meetings at the bank before, you know.’
‘Was your mother with him?’
‘Well, yes. Yes, she was, but that’s because she was the business’s bookkeeper and she knew what…’
Gabbie paused. Wasn’t that the role she had been performing since she’d arrived back home? She understood exactly where Max was coming from. She met his gaze and he nodded.
‘Sunk in?’
‘Max…’
‘Are you going to reschedule your interview?’
‘I can’t. Rupert Carrington flies out to Hong Kong in the afternoon and won’t be back for a month. Max, if I get this job it means I’ll be able to make a contribution towards the running of the garage. I really can’t miss the chance to…’
‘Can’t or won’t?’
‘Can’t. Look, Max…’
‘I thought you loved it here? I thought you wanted to make a go of your aromatherapy business?’
‘I did, I do, it’s just…’
‘You know, I thought I understood you, Gabbie. I actually thought we had something special, more than special, something unique, something I’ve never experienced before with anyone.’
‘Including Scarlet?’ As soon as she’d said the words she regretted them, but her whole body was churning with a cauldron of emotions and she couldn’t think straight. She saw that Max was staring at her but couldn’t decipher his expression and she knew she had to explain. ‘Sorry, Max, I overheard you talking to her in the garage the other night. I know she wants you to go back to London with her, to stay at her father’s penthouse apartment in Pimlico. I… well, I heard you kissing and assumed…’
‘We weren’t kissing! There’s nothing romantic going on between me and Scarlet – that was over months ago. But you’re right, I have been offered a job in London. Like yours, it’s with a prestigious company, a dream come true for a lot of people. But you know what? I turned it down.’
‘You turned it down?’
‘Yes. Want to know why?’
‘Max, I…’
‘Because I love it here. Not just the garage, not just the cars, but the people. Oakley is my home and that means more to me than anything else, even a gold-plated salary that would mean I could buy any car that takes my fancy and not have to spend ten years restoring it!’
Max held Gabbie’s gaze for a long time, clearly struggling with whether to say his next words. But he simply shook his head in defeat.
‘Sorry, Gabbie, I have to be somewhere too – anywhere but here.’
Max turned his back and stalked away to where he’d parked his car, slamming the door and revving the engine with expressive vigour. Before he disappeared, he wound down his window.
‘If Jeff will agree, I want to go with him to Honiton on Friday. It’s my future too that’s hanging in the balance, and Wil’s. But hey, don’t worry about us. I’m sure that as soon as you get to London, you’ll be able to forget about what’s going on at Andrews Autos and in the village – just like you did last time.’
‘Max, that’s really unfair!’
‘Is it?’
He glared at her as he slammed his foot on the accelerator, taking a leaf out of Wil’s book as he screeched around the village green and disappeared past the church.
Gabbie sighed, unsurprised to feel tears sparkle at the corners of her eyes. She really wished there was a solution that would allow her to be in two places at one time. She hadn’t told her father, or Max, that she had made a discreet call to the bank to enquire about the next available appointment with their small business manager, Freya Williams, only to be told it was in three weeks’ time – by which time Groves Autoparts Ltd would have probably been granted judgement and filed for the threatened bankruptcy order. There was no alternative; she had to trust her father to handle his own business affairs.
However, the encounter with Max had upset her greatly and knowing she had been mistaken about his relationship with Scarlet made her feel even worse. As she replayed every painful moment of their conversation, she pressed the pause button to dissect the expression on his face just before he’d shaken his head in defeat. She had the strangest feeling he’d been about to tell her he loved her.
Had her attempt to save the garage cost her her chance at happiness? Confusion ricocheted around her brain until she was dizzy from the indecision and self-recriminations.
She made her way towards The Pear Tree, across the village green, turning to appreciate the picturesque scene that would have attracted many a film director in search of a quintessential rural idyll. Her eyes fell on the churchyard where her mother’s ashes were scattered, then the post office with its fire-engine-red front door, striped canopy and quaint post box, and she wondered again why she was even contemplating leaving for a second time. She had only been home for a couple of months and already she felt like the old Gabriella Andrews had returned. Oakley had given that to her – helped her to put her grief into perspective and to work on moving forward at last.
But there was no getting away from the fact that she needed to work, and for her line of business that inevitably meant in London, and of course there was no way her father would entertain her throwing away the chance of the perfect job. She knew his number-one priority was to see her happy and settled, the same hope every parent has for their child. Okay, so her dream was to run her Summerhouse of Happiness business, but she had come to the conclusion that she could work on that while gaining valuable business experience from the experts at Carrington Cosmetics.
She sighed, upset at Max’s reaction but understanding it. She hoped that when her father had secured the loan they needed to help Andrews Autos through the difficult period, and she had landed a new position with a decent salary, he would agree it was the best solution and celebrate with them.
She pushed open the door of the pub, her spirits edging up a notch at the soft rumble of conversation, interjected with the occasional burst of laughter. As she inhaled the familiar smell of yeasty beer and burning logs, she spotted her father and Mike waving at her from a bashed copper table in the corner next to the fireplace.
By the time she had indulged in a couple of glasses of red wine, she was starting to feel more optimistic, especially after listening to Mike’s tales about various archery shoots he’d attended around the county. One field shoot he told them about had encouraged the participants to bring their own choice of targets to shoot at without specifying that they didn’t mean enlarged photographs of an unpopular politician. Apparently, Mike had never had so much fun with a bow and arrow!
Gabbie checked her watch and decided it would be prudent to have an early night so she was fresh and alert for her interview the next day.
‘Don’t stay too long, Dad. You’ll need to have all your wits about you tomorrow!’
‘Yes, Jeff, mate, it’ll be like doing a stint in the gladiators’ arena!’
‘Not funny, Mike!’ chastised Gabbie as she hugged him and then her father goodbye.
She made her way outside, drinking in the night air laced with the scent of damp earth, smoke from the village chimney pots, and the faint tang of crushed pine from the trees bordering the car park. She had taken only a couple of steps when she realised that the hooded figure making his way towards her, head bent to the ground, hands shoved in the pockets of his jeans, was Max.
‘Hi, Max,’ she said cheerfully, keen to try to engage him in conversation and to clear the air between them. ‘Dad and Mike are still in there, but there’s no sign of Wil tonight.’
Max considered her carefully. She could almost see the cogs working as he struggled with the best way to approach his argument to get the result he wanted. Eventually he spoke and Gabbie’s heart gave a sharp nip that there was none of the habitual warmth in his voice, just an awkward false politeness, as though they were mere strangers conducting a business transaction.
‘Are you sure there’s nothing you can do to persuade Jeff to allow me to sit in with him at the meeting?’ Max asked, his face stiff, his eyes focused on a point to the left of her forehead as he steadfastly refused to look her in the eye.
‘Sorry, Max. I’ve tried, but he’s adamant he wants to do this on his own.’
‘Well, I’m going to insist on driving him over there. He needs to know someone is in his corner, whatever the outcome is. I won’t budge on that. I appreciate it’s his business, that the finances are a private matter, but that doesn’t stop me from wanting to offer whatever support I can.’
‘Dad’s grateful for your support, Max, and it’s kind of you to offer to go with him.’
‘It’s the least I can do after everything Jeff has done for me, and for Wil, and for the village. Working at the garage is my dream job, but it’s more than that. I can’t bear to contemplate the thought of its customers being forced to drive all the way to Tiverton to get their cars repaired. Even if you don’t care about that, I do!’
‘Oh, Max, I do care! Andrews Autos has been in my family for three generations. I don’t want it to close any more than you do, and if I get this job tomorrow, maybe it won’t have to.’
‘But Gabbie, you’ll be living and working in London! You saw what the garage was like when you came back from France. How do you know the same thing won’t happen again? I might not agree with the new neat-freak filing systems, or the obsession with washing down the surfaces every night with Dettol, not to mention the pretty fragrances you insist on spraying around that make the place smell like a Parisian lady’s boudoir, but I admit it’s better than the chaos we used to work in. And your father is looking so much happier, not to mention healthier, now someone is keeping an eye on him and his diet.’
A bolt of electricity had shot through Gabbie’s chest. She knew Max was hurting but his last comment was below the belt. Was he really suggesting that, if she left Oakley to work at Carrington’s, her father’s wellbeing would deteriorate? And that, if that happened, it would all be her fault for not being there?
She reined in her indignation and swallowed the words she was about to deliver for fear their shaky relationship would take an even deeper plunge into the widening chasm of recriminations. She spun on her heels and stalked into the house, closing the door gently behind her without uttering another word. Yet her heart pounded out a cacophony of dismay that stayed with her into the night, making it difficult to tumble into the oblivion sleep offered, and she woke on Friday morning feeling frayed around the edges – not the best way to start the day of her interview.