CHAPTER NINE

‘STUPID, stupid car!’

Gaby banged her hands on the steering wheel, then did it once again, just to make her point.

‘Has the heap finally had it?’ Heather asked, not seeming too devastated by the news.

‘This is not a heap. It’s a classic car.’

Heather looked out of the window at the school kids streaming past and sighed. ‘What, classic like an antique?’

Gaby was in no mood for Heather’s lip. ‘Give it a rest, will you, Heather?’ she said, as she opened the door and went to have a look at the engine. Not that she’d know what to look for. If only she’d taken car maintenance rather than all those cooking courses.

The best bit of mechanical maintenance she could manage was to get her phone out and call the roadside assistance people. When she’d finished her call she climbed back inside the car.

‘Sorry, Heather. We’re going to have to wait about forty-five minutes for them to get here.’

Heather scowled. ‘I’m going to miss that thing on telly I wanted to watch!’

Gaby bit back a smile. It was kind of nice to see Heather hadn’t lost her laser vision completely, although she was very glad it had only the occasionally outing these days. She sank back into her seat and kept her eyes on the horizon for the tow truck. This did not look good.

Things didn’t look much better when she’d heard from the garage the next morning. Seven to ten working days to get the part. The twentieth at the earliest, in other words. Too late for the party, and too late to escape Luke and his darn hazel eyes.

She put the phone down and walked into the kitchen.

‘Looks like my weekend trip is off.’

Luke looked up from his newspaper.

‘And if I’m not going away, you don’t have to either, I suppose.’

He put down his paper and looked at her. ‘Ah, if only it were that simple. Heather is not going to let me welch out so easily. She’ll—what did you say your mother would do to you?’

‘Flay me alive.’

‘Right. She’ll flay me alive if I cancel this trip.’

‘Looks like I’ve got the house to myself this weekend, then.’

‘Where did you say the party was?’

‘Chislehurst.’

‘That’s only a few miles from Lucy’s parents. Why don’t you hitch a ride with us?’

‘Um, I’m not sure.’

‘Not sure about what? We’re going to London and you need a lift. It couldn’t be simpler. You don’t want your mother coming after you, do you? Living without your skin is going to be tricky. I’m a doctor, I know these things.’

She smiled, despite her resolve not to.

‘Well, it does seem a more pleasant prospect than lugging my case on the train.’

‘Good. Well, that’s decided, then.’

She had no idea why he looked so pleased with himself.

‘Good,’ she echoed, not entirely sure that six hours shut in a car with Luke was going to be anything but really, really bad for her nerves.

 

The motorway was a sea of orange cones. Gaby sighed and glanced into the back seat. Heather was plugged into her MP3 player and seemed oblivious to the delay. In fact, she seemed oblivious to almost everything.

‘Perhaps we’re both going to be saved by the roadworks,’ Luke said, edging the car forward slightly to keep close to the van in front.

‘I wish.’

Luke frowned and looked at her. Gaby didn’t bother telling him to keep his eyes on the road. There didn’t seem to be much point when they obviously weren’t going anywhere.

‘Don’t you miss your family?’

‘Of course I do. It’s just…’

‘Just?’

‘I don’t know. They have a way of making me feel…stupid.’

Luke’s reply was so fast she couldn’t doubt its sincerity. ‘You’re not stupid, Gaby. I don’t know how anyone could think that. I end up feeling stupid around you sometimes.’

Gaby exploded in a loud snort. ‘Yeah, right! The doctor thinks he’s thick compared to me. I don’t think so!’

Luke gave her one of his looks. One of the really grumpy ones. It was almost a relief to see it. She knew where she was with the old Luke. The softer-round-the-edges version was harder to fathom.

‘Don’t put yourself down like that.’

‘I’m not putting myself down. It’s just the truth. Justin’s the clever one and I’m—’

‘The beauty?’

Funnily enough, that was what her father had said to her when she was nine. He’d patted her on the head and told her not to worry. Justin might be the brains of the family, but she could be the beauty. It seemed like she’d disappointed him on both fronts in the end.

‘Don’t laugh at me, Luke.’

‘I’m not.’

She stared straight ahead. ‘You’d better catch up with that van if you want to get to London today.’

Luke whipped his head round to look at the traffic, which was now moving at a steady crawl, and fumbled with the gear stick.

He spoke without taking his eyes off the road. ‘Didn’t your husband ever say you were beautiful?’

Gaby was about to give a knee-jerk reply, but stopped.

Perfect. Fine. Classy. They were all words that David had used to describe her. But she’d often had the feeling he’d been evaluating her appearance—deciding whether she’d looked good enough to be presented as David Harvey’s wife—rather than paying her a compliment.

So the answer to Luke’s question was no. No one had ever looked at her, gazed deep into her eyes, the way a man entranced was supposed to, and said she was beautiful. But she wasn’t going to tell him that.

Thanks to her mother, she knew how to look the part when she wanted to. It was just that, left to her own devices, she didn’t want to look like a corporate wife or a suburban princess. She just wanted to look like Gaby.

Luke seemed to be concentrating on his driving, so she let the subject slide, relieved not to have to give an answer that would reveal the poverty of her life. Every woman should have at least one moment like that. A moment when she knew she was truly treasured.

The traffic started flowing more swiftly and, before she knew it, they were sailing along on the motorway towards the London suburbs. Just when she thought the conversation had been left behind with the cones, he echoed her earlier thought.

‘Every woman should be told she’s beautiful.’

She was getting a little irritated with Luke passing judgement on her failed marriage. It didn’t matter if he was hitting the nail straight on the head—or perhaps that was why it mattered so much.

‘What? You told your wife she was beautiful every day, did you?’

‘Not every day, but enough.’

‘Was she?’

‘Was she what?’

‘Beautiful.’ She truly didn’t know. There wasn’t a photo to be found of Lucy Armstrong in the Old Boathouse.

Luke took a long time to answer. Too many painful memories, she guessed.

‘Yes, I suppose so.’

‘Really beautiful? Or did you just tell her because you thought you should? That seems like lying to me.’ And in some small way she was relieved that David had never pushed the charade that far.

‘Yes. She was very beautiful. The kind of woman all the men watch. The kind of woman who lights up a room when she walks in. That kind of beautiful.’

He sounded angry with her for asking. She didn’t know what to say, but she could tell Luke was waiting for a response.

‘Oh,’ she said, and it just seemed to make him angrier.

‘Is that what you wanted to know? Happy now?’

‘Just fine, thank you.’

Luke seethed and gripped the steering wheel. He hadn’t wanted to tell Gaby that Lucy had been stunning. It felt like awarding her points she hadn’t deserved.

Yes, she’d been gorgeous. Yes, she’d been the sort of person others were drawn to, because she’d always seemed so full of life and fun. But true to form, it had taken him some time to realise there wasn’t much beneath the surface.

Underneath the luscious exterior she’d been selfish and fickle and not beautiful at all. Not like Gaby was. Gaby’s beauty started on the inside and shone its way outwards, lighting up everything about her. Her husband must have been a fool not so see it—and a jerk for making Gaby feel the way she did. If he ever met the guy, he’d be tempted to connect his fist with the other man’s jaw.

 

They finally pulled into the car park of Hurst Manor Hotel a little after six.

‘Don’t shoot off, Gaby. I’ll give you a hand with your case.’ He turned to face his daughter. ‘Heather, I’ll be back in a sec.’

‘What?’ Heather unplugged her earphones and gave him a blank look.

‘I’m just going to help Gaby with her case. Stay here, will you?’

‘Sure.’ She popped the little plastic discs back into her ears and started to nod her head rhythmically.

‘Thanks, Luke,’ Gaby said, as he walked round to the boot. ‘You’ve no idea how much junk I need to make myself what my mother calls “presentable”.’

Luke shook his head as he pulled the case from the boot. There was no point in arguing with her. She was totally blinkered on this point.

He followed her up the short flight of stairs to the hotel lobby. It was one of those places that had probably been an old manor house, with grand architecture and manicured lawns. This party looked as if it was going to be a posh affair.

Gaby collected a key from the reception desk and Luke followed her towards an ornate oak staircase. As they reached the foot of the stairs, he heard a loud female voice pierce the atmosphere.

‘Donald! I told you we needed linen napkins for the buffet.’ A thin young man behind the desk—probably poor Donald—nearly jumped out of his skin.

Gaby seemed to shrink slightly. Then she started to scurry up the stairs, motioning for him to hurry up.

‘Gabrielle! There you are! About time, too.’

Gaby froze and turned slowly. ‘Mum, lovely to see you. We got a bit held up on the motorway.’

‘Well, never mind. You’re here now. I do hope you’re going to do something with your hair, darling.’

Luke could see Gaby was biting back a response, but she walked down the steps to give her mother a kiss on the cheek. ‘Of course I am.’

It all made sense now. Gaby had become an expert in glossing over her feelings from a very early age. Survival tactics. Mrs Michaels’s gaze fell on him and he instantly felt all wrinkled and stale from the journey. Her eyebrows hitched just high enough to ask a question.

‘Mum, this is Luke.’

The older woman looked him up and down, then returned to scolding her daughter. ‘Well, chop chop, Gabrielle. We haven’t got time to stand around and gas.’ And with that, she swept off in search of the cowering Donald.

‘Don’t say a word,’ Gaby warned him.

Luke couldn’t help it. His mouth stretched into a wide smile.

‘I’m warning you!’

It was no good. He could see the tell-tale quiver of her bottom lip. His smile widened even further.

‘Oh, you rat!’ she said, and burst out laughing. ‘Come on, then. I’ve got to chop chop, didn’t you hear?’

He followed her up to her room and dumped her case inside the door, without actually setting foot over the threshold. ‘What time does the party start?’

She kicked off her shoes and leant against the wall. ‘Eight. Wish me luck.’

‘Good luck.’

It seemed the most natural thing in the world to lean forward and give her a kiss on the cheek, but he resisted it with all his strength. ‘Bye, then. I’ll pick you up tomorrow at two.’

‘Two it is. Bye.’

He walked back down the corridor and when he turned to take the stairs he looked back. A perfectly natural thing to do. It didn’t mean anything. She was still in the doorway, looking at him. He twitched his lips into a half smile and then he walked down the stairs.

Heather was wandering in the lobby.

‘Heather? I thought I told you to stay put.’

Heather looked sheepish. ‘I need the loo,’ she whispered.

‘Oh. Okay.’ He scanned the doors for signs. ‘Look, there it is, down that corridor. I’ll meet you back here in five minutes.’

Heather scooted off and he found himself a wall to lean against while he waited. After hours in the driving seat, he didn’t feel much like sitting. A tall good-looking man entered the foyer from the hotel bar. Luke tipped his head to one side.

That had to be Justin, Gaby’s famous older brother. The hair was lighter, more gold in it, but the similarity around the eyes was uncanny. Warm and brown and full of life. He was just about to go and introduce himself when a couple walked though the main entrance.

‘Justin! How are you, you old devil?’

Justin’s smile was warm, just about. ‘Good. Good. And how are you, David? I haven’t seen you much since…’

‘The divorce?’

Justin looked flustered. ‘I suppose it must be…’

‘Hattie invited us.’ He nodded towards the cool blonde on his arm. ‘I hope I haven’t spoiled the surprise.’

‘No, no. I’m surprised. That’s for sure.’

David clapped Justin on the shoulder. ‘Super, that’s the spirit. You and I were such good chums once upon a time. It seems a shame to let a little family mishap get in the way of that.’

Luke was very pleased that Gaby’s big brother didn’t look too convinced. Still, he was polite enough not to say anything. David grinned and looked round the foyer. ‘And what about your little sister? Is she here?’

‘I’m not sure if she’s arrived yet, but she’s supposed to be coming. You know Mum, rallying the troops and all that.’

David’s answering laugh was brash and hollow.

‘Is she bringing anyone?’

Justin shrugged. ‘Not sure.’

The smirk that passed between David and his partner at this point made Luke feel sick. This had to be Gaby’s ex. He was just the kind of low-life pond scum he’d expected. And Gaby was going to have to put up with this kind of stuff all night. He knew in his gut that David didn’t have the decency to stay well clear. He was the type who liked to gloat.

At least Justin looked uncomfortable. ‘Listen, David, I’ve got to get on. I’ll see you later, okay.’

Justin made his way up the stairs and David turned to the blonde and whispered in her ear. She sniggered. Luke suddenly found himself standing up poker-straight, back no longer in contact with the wall. His hand was balled into a fist and he knew he was just itching to use it on someone.

But, just at that moment, Heather rounded the corner. She sloped up to him while he was still staring at the slick-haired lout who used to be married to Gaby. David became aware that someone was looking at him and turned, a quizzical look on his face.

Luke glared some more, then held out a hand to his daughter. ‘Come on, Heather. We’ve got things to do.’

 

Gaby took a deep breath and fixed a pair of simple diamond studs into her ears. There. Done. Decorated like the Christmas turkey.

It had been quite a while since she’d had to get dressed up in her gladrags and, since she’d lost about thirty pounds, none of her pre-divorce, classic-cut little black dresses would do. So she’d splurged.

Her dress was a dark raspberry colour and the most fantastic thing she’d ever worn. To hell with propriety and shift dresses! This one was a show-stopper. The neckline was daring, but not too indecent, and she still had enough curves left after the weight loss to give it the wow factor.

Her hips could do with being a little smaller, but in this dress it didn’t seem to matter. The cut was so good that all it did was emphasise her waist as the gently flaring fabric fell to her ankles. This was the kind of dress she’d always wanted to wear when she’d been out to big business affairs with David, but she’d always felt too frumpy to pull off.

She stared at herself in the mirror. Her hair was swept up into a neat chignon, a few carefully teased tendrils escaping to frame her face.

This was for David. Not to impress him, but to say, Ha! Stuff you! I can make it on my own. And the fact that she looked ten times better today than she had done during their marriage was a testament to the fact she was right.

And everyone would see she was better off without him and they’d stop whispering and giving her pitying looks and just let her be.

That was why she was here, really. She wasn’t looking forward to being aware of David and Superwoman out of the corner of her eye all evening, flaunting their togetherness. She didn’t want to be reminded that her love life was pretty pathetic in comparison.

David would love to rub it in if he knew she’d fallen helplessly for someone she couldn’t have. He was competitive about everything, even about who could recover the fastest after the divorce. The fact he’d had a head start with Cara while they had still been married wouldn’t matter. He would see her on her own and he would judge.

She was just going to have to convince him otherwise—give the performance of her life. Be vivacious. Be elegant. Be charming and witty.

In other words, be somebody else.

Chop chop, Gaby. You’ve got an ex-husband to silence, once and for all.

She slipped her strappy high heels on and checked her watch. Seven fifty-nine.

Show time.

 

Luke ran a hand over his newly shaved chin. Was he making a really big mistake turning up here like this? It had all seemed such a perfect plan when he had been sitting with the in-laws, sipping tea from cups and saucers and ignoring the awkward silence. Now he wasn’t so sure.

She might think he was intruding or something.

Simon, his ex-colleague and good friend, had looked flabbergasted when he’d turned up on his doorstep and begged the loan of a dinner jacket and bow tie, but he’d handed them over anyway. A true mate.

He tugged at the collar of his shirt. He’d always hated getting trussed up like this, but tonight he wasn’t doing what he wanted. He was doing what Gaby needed. Ever since her slimy ex-husband had exchanged looks with his new woman in the hotel lobby, he’d known she needed someone to be with her tonight. A friend.

And even if he wanted to be more than just a friend, he would put that aside. She’d helped him in more ways than he could count and it was time to start repaying the debt.

Eight o’clock. He was right on the dot. Nothing more to do than walk up the stairs into the foyer and find her. And hope she didn’t laugh in his face or look uncomfortable that he’d come. He took the stairs two at a time and walked into the hotel with more confidence than he felt.

The small lobby was busy already, full of guests milling around, looking for the cloakroom or greeting each other. Luke scanned the crowd, but he couldn’t see Gaby anywhere. He spotted her brother at the bottom of the stairs, being hotly pursued by a tense-looking pregnant woman he presumed was his wife.

His gaze followed the staircase round and up to the landing, but there was no sign of her there either. Wait. His eye was caught by just the right shade of caramel lights in warm brown hair, but it wasn’t her. The woman in question had her back to him and she held herself in a completely different way. Gaby always seemed so relaxed when she moved, but this woman stood tall and straight with an almost regal air. The motion of her hand as she smoothed her hair was too neat and precise to be Gaby.

What about the hotel bar? He checked. Still no joy.

He let out a breath that did nothing to dissipate the tension in his shoulders and wondered what to do next. How long should he wait here? Surely someone would tag him as a gatecrasher before long and he’d be out on his ear.

Once again, his eyes were drawn to the stairs. The woman he’d spotted a few moments ago was descending, one graceful hand sweeping the banister and the other lifting the skirt of her deep red dress out of the way of her feet.

His eyes followed the smooth-skinned arms upwards to her face and his heart did a double kick.

It was Gaby.

He blinked and looked again. Then his mouth dropped open.

This was his nanny as he’d never seen her before. She was wearing make-up, for a start, and not just that stuff she used to protect her lips from the blustery river air. The dark eyeshadow, or mascara, or whatever it was, made her eyes look huge and she wore a deep berry lipstick to match her dress. No sign of a half-mast hairdo here. Everything was pinned and sprayed and, well…tidy.

He wanted to call out to her but, all of a sudden, he had no idea what to say. It was as if he were looking at her for the first time, and he felt stupidly shy, almost as if he didn’t know her any more.

She smiled at her brother, who’d been cornered by his wife, as she reached the bottom step, then walked over to kiss each of them on the cheek.

He couldn’t get over it. She looked so poised and just plain stunning that he stood glued to the spot as she moved through the mass of people, greeting all with an even smile. Nobody would have guessed she’d been dreading this.

She was almost at the entrance of the function room before he remembered he was supposed to be following her.

He ducked and dived through the crowd, but she was always just that little bit too far away to call without attracting too much attention. Finally, she paused in the doorway to look around the room and he got his chance.