‘Don’t let Pan jump on that lovely dress,’ called a voice, and Gabriel looked up to see a smiling, tanned woman coming towards them, her dark eyes warm below curling grey hair which had once been as dark as her son’s.
‘Mother, this is Gabriel,’ Adam announced.
‘Welcome to Friars Wood, my dear. I know your father quite well,’ said Frances Dysart, smiling as she took Gabriel’s hand. ‘Adam tells me you’re the clever lady who’s been working miracles at Haywards since Harry’s illness. How is he?’
‘According to tonight’s report from my mother, doing very well,’ said Gabriel, beginning to relax.
‘That’s splendid news. Come inside and have a drink.’ Frances eyed her son in amusement. ‘Don’t worry, Adam. Gabriel will be perfectly safe with me while you have a shower.’
Her son laughed, and gave Gabriel a swift kiss. ‘I won’t be long.’
The evening was a success, not only because Gabriel’s welcome was warm from both Adam’s parents, but because Frances found a willing audience for the dozens of snapshots she produced of her grandchildren.
‘And those are just the current batch,’ said Tom indulgently. ‘Give my wife the slightest encouragement, Gabriel, and she’ll bring out every one taken from birth onwards.’
Later Frances served dinner in the kitchen. ‘As it’s just family tonight,’ she announced, setting down a vast, fragrant casserole. ‘You can be a visitor next time, Gabriel.’
They discussed the preview over the meal, with the Singleton portrait the main subject of interest.
‘You’ve obviously inherited your father’s wizardry,’ said Tom. ‘Adam tells me the painting was a mess when he bought it.’
Gabriel delved into her handbag. ‘This is the photograph I took before I started on it.’
Tom and Frances leaned together to study it.
‘That’s the same painting?’ said Tom incredulously.
‘What was under the dark half?’ asked Frances.
‘Another beautiful girl,’ said Adam with relish, ‘plus their lover’s reflection in a mirror in the background.’
‘Their lover?’ said his mother, raising familiar black eyebrows. ‘Sounds a bit kinky.’
Adam explained the background story to the painting, and described their visit to Miss Scudamore. ‘If my heart hadn’t already been given to another,’ he said, smiling at Gabriel, ‘I could have fallen for Miss Henrietta in a big way.’
Tom, watching with interest, exchanged a look with his wife. ‘We haven’t been away long, Frances, but a lot seems to have happened since we took off for Tuscany.’
‘It has,’ Adam assured him.
The evening passed so quickly Gabriel was sorry when the time came to go home. She thanked Adam’s parents, handed over the chocolates to Frances, promised to join them at the auction, and sat in silence for the first part of the journey as Adam drove back to Haywards.
‘There,’ said Adam after a while. ‘That wasn’t so bad, was it?’
‘It was lovely,’ she said with a sigh. ‘I like your parents very much.’
‘Good. The feeling was mutual. And I warn you, Gabriel Brett, once the auction is over I intend to put our relationship on an official footing. You know very well what I feel about you. Lord knows I tell you often enough.’
‘What exactly are we talking about?’
‘Whatever you want. As long as the arrangement is exclusive and permanent.’
When they were inside the house Adam took Gabriel by the shoulders and kissed her, then held her close. ‘I would have asked you to stay the night at the Stables, but I had a feeling you wouldn’t like that.’
‘On the contrary, I’d like it very much,’ she sighed, leaning against him. ‘But give your parents time to get used to me a bit first.’
‘They won’t need much,’ he assured her. ‘Shall I see you upstairs and safely locked in your room?’
‘No, I’m going to drink some tea and unwind a bit first.’ Gabriel reached up and kissed him. ‘You can ring me when you get home. I’ll be in bed by then.’
‘But not with me,’ said Adam darkly.
After he’d gone Gabriel changed her mind about the tea and went straight upstairs after all. Suddenly she was so tired she just wanted to get to bed, but her cellphone rang the moment she closed the door behind her.
‘At last,’ said a familiar drawl. ‘Don’t you ever look at your messages, dear heart?’
‘Jeremy! Sorry, I’ve just come in.’
‘With the Adam you mentioned?’
‘Since you ask, yes.’
‘Faithless creature. Had you forgotten I’m coming to Pennington?’
‘Of course not. Are you staying at the Chesterton?’
‘How did you guess?’
‘It’s the most expensive hotel in town, Jeremy. Where else would you stay?’
He laughed. ‘Is the cuisine good?’
‘No idea.’
‘Come and try it with me after the auction.’
‘Jeremy, will you be horribly offended if I don’t?’
He sighed gustily. ‘Something to do with the mysterious Adam, no doubt.’
‘Yes.’ The Adam who wasn’t into sharing. ‘But why aren’t you coming to the preview?’
‘I’m hot on the trail of something up here, dear heart. But after your hint of great things at Dysart’s my curiosity was whetted. I trust you’re not luring me down there on a wild-goose chase.’
‘No way. You’ll find it interesting, I promise. I’ll see you at the auction, then.’
‘Are you sure about that dinner?’
‘Afraid so.’
‘Does this mean all is at an end between us, Gabriel?’ he said lightly.
‘Of course not. I hope you’ll always be my friend, Jeremy.’
‘To the death, dear heart,’ he drawled, and chatted on about new acquisitions at the gallery, a forthcoming exhibition by a new artist he had high hopes for, until it dawned on him that his listener wasn’t paying the attention he deserved. ‘I’m obviously keeping you from your bed. I trust there’s no one in it as we speak, waiting for you to join him.’
‘Not tonight, no,’ she assured him, laughing, and said goodnight, then rushed through her preparations for the night to be ready when Adam rang to receive his usual assurances that she was safely locked away.
‘I’m not sure what time I’ll be finished here tomorrow after the preview,’ he told her eventually. ‘Are you coming in for it?’
‘I’d better work tomorrow, so I’ll leave it until the auction. Will you call in here on your way home afterwards?’
‘You need to ask?’
Gabriel worked diligently enough the next day on the landscape, but Eddie and Wayne had no problem in distracting her with coffee, nor any need to remind her about lunch, and later she was ready to knock off for the day before them for once.
When they’d gone she had a bath, put on her white cotton trousers and the clinging top that matched her eyes, then took some time to brush her damp hair into obedience, and went downstairs to see what she could put together if Adam had time to stay to supper. While she was inspecting the contents of the fridge the expected knock came on the door and her eyes lit up. Gabriel flung open the door with a radiant smile which died abruptly as she stared, speechless for a moment, at the man standing on the doorstep.
‘What on earth are you doing here?’ she demanded.
CHAPTER TWELVE
A WOLFISH smile was her only answer for a moment as her visitor peered round her at the big, empty kitchen. ‘All alone, Gaby?’
Wishing desperately that she wasn’t, Gabriel faced him coldly. ‘For the moment, yes. I’m expecting someone any minute, so what do you want, Jake?’
‘I’ve come a long way just to bring you the money I owe you. Aren’t you going to ask me in?’
With deep reluctance she stood aside to let him in, and Jake Trent strolled into the kitchen, frowning as he looked round.
‘Not
exactly cosy, is it?’
‘I like it,’ she lied.
‘Bad luck about your father, by the way. How is he?’
‘Better.’
‘Good. I hear he’s away, convalescing somewhere.’ Jake turned to look at her. ‘I thought to find you exhausted, but you’re positively blooming, Gaby.’
‘Don’t call me that,’ she said through her teeth.
He laughed indulgently. ‘I was sorry to receive your resignation, Ga-bri-el,’ he added deliberately, stressing the vowels. ‘Are you sure you want to bury yourself down here? I’ll take you back if you want to come. Any time.’
‘How kind,’ she said distantly. ‘But no, thanks.’
Jake Trent was no taller than Gabriel, and slightly built, with close-set eyes, and fox-coloured hair worn a fraction too long. His Savile row suit was no disguise for the predatory aura he wore like an accessory, and his alien presence on her own territory was so unwelcome Gabriel couldn’t disguise her hostility.
‘It was kind of you to come so far, but quite unnecessary,’ she said tightly. ‘Why didn’t you pay it into my bank as usual?’
His teeth glinted again in the smile that always raised her hackles. ‘I wanted to see you again. Aren’t you going to offer me a drink?’
‘No,’ she said baldly. ‘As I told you, I’m expecting someone.’
‘How inhospitable,’ he said softly, and raised an eyebrow. ‘Jeremy hinted about something interesting at the Dysart’s auction tomorrow. Would it be a little something you’ve been working on, by any chance?’
‘Yes, it would.’
‘So what is it?’
‘Go to the auction and find out.’
Jake Trent shook his head in reproof. ‘Surely you can drop a hint to an old friend?’
‘You’re no friend of mine,’ she retorted, suddenly angry. ‘In fact, if it’s only the money I’m owed which brought you here, keep it, Jake. It’s worth a couple of months’ salary to see you go.’
His eyes suddenly cold with anger, he advanced on her with a purpose she recognised with a feeling of panic. It had been madness to let him in, she realised too late, and retreated. But Jake Trent smiled his unsettling smile, and kept on coming until she was back up against the table.
‘A little undignified,’ he murmured, ‘to chase you round the room. You know very well there’s unfinished business between us. Did you really think running away would do any good?’
Gabriel dodged as he grabbed her, but Jake Trent was surprisingly strong. He laughed and held her easily, and bent her back over the table until she lost balance and collapsed on it with her legs dangling, and he laughed triumphantly and held her there with his body, his mouth grinding into hers. Trembling with disgust, Gabriel forced herself to go limp, and he laughed again.
‘That’s better. Lie back and enjoy it, Gaby.’
She steeled herself to return the kiss, stretching out her arm in feigned languor, hoping she wouldn’t throw up before her hand could connect with the large onyx ashtray no one used since Harry had given up smoking. Feeling her gorge rise as Jake released her to begin fumbling with the buttons at her waistband, she thrust her knee up hard into his groin and struck him between the eyes with the ashtray as he doubled over.
Jake Trent clapped a hand to his face as he writhed in agony. ‘You bitch,’ he gasped.
Gabriel slid to her feet and stood over him like an avenging fury. ‘Get out or I call the police.’
He staggered upright, staring in rage at the blood on his hands.
She handed him a wad of tissues. ‘You’ll live. Unfortunately. So get out. Now.’
‘How do you expect me to drive like this?’ he spat at her.
‘That, Jake Trent, is your problem.’ Gabriel propelled him outside and locked the door, then collapsed at the kitchen table with her head in her hands, trembling from head to foot. After what seemed like hours she heard his car start up and went to the window to see his Porsche retreating up the lane. Shuddering, she ran upstairs, tearing off her clothes as she went, and got into a bath as hot as she could bear, hoping she had time to pull herself together before Adam arrived.
By nine that evening Gabriel had recovered from Jake Trent’s attentions, but she was out of her mind with worry because Adam had neither arrived, nor rung to say he would be late. At last she rang the Stables, but there was no reply. She left a message, then tried his cellphone, but he’d switched it off. In the end, in desperation, she rang Friars Wood, only to find that Frances Dysart had assumed that Adam was with Gabriel.
‘Something’s probably held him up, my dear. I’m sure he’ll ring you soon.’
But there was no phone call from Adam, though Gabriel left more messages, and she lay awake in anguish most of the night.
Next morning she got up with a blinding headache and a feeling of such deep depression she could hardly raise a smile when Eddie came to collect the keys.
‘Can you two manage on your own, today?’ she said with effort.
‘Of course we can. You look terrible, Gabriel. What’s wrong?’
‘Headache.’
‘Make some tea and go back to bed!’
Gabriel took his advice, and retreated to her room with painkillers, tea, and cellphone, hoping to catch Adam before he left for Pennington. But once again his recorded voice was her only answer from the Stables, and at the main house Frances Dysart told her that Adam had slept overnight at the auction house, as he sometimes did before a big occasion.
‘He must have forgotten to tell you,’ said Frances, sounding puzzled. ‘He’ll be in his office now. Give him a ring there.’
But when Gabriel got through she was told that Mr Adam had given instructions that he was tied up until after the auction, and would ring Miss Brett later.
Feeling that her world was disintegrating round her, Gabriel lay still in the narrow bed and let the waves of pain wash over her until they began to recede. At last she got up and had a bath, then could have cried with frustration when the phone rang downstairs the moment she’d lowered herself into the water. She heaved herself up, swathed herself in a towel, then hurried downstairs just as the message finished. She pressed the button in eager anticipation, then felt sick with disappointment when she heard Jeremy’s drawl.
‘Won’t be coming down after all, dear heart. I’ve caught an unsightly cold. In June,’ he added plaintively. ‘I shall send a minion down in my place, to report by phone. He can bid for me if your mystery prize is worth having.’ He broke off to sneeze. ‘No doubt you’re busy with some other masterpiece as I speak, but don’t work too hard, dear heart. I shall talk to you soon.’
Gabriel slumped down on a kitchen chair, her head in her hands. She had been looking forward to Jeremy’s company at the auction. Going to it alone, without talking to Adam first, was not something she looked forward to. She got up wearily and went back to her cooling bath, then sat propped against pillows on the bed with her head swathed in a towel, afraid to use a hairdryer in case her head rebelled again.
When Gabriel went downstairs at noon she saw Wayne crossing the yard towards the house and had a brainwave. ‘Hi,’ she said, opening the door.
‘How do you feel?’ he said anxiously, eyeing her pallid face.
‘Better.’
‘You don’t look it.’
‘No warpaint.’
‘You never wear warpaint to work,’ he reminded her. ‘Shall I put the kettle on?’
‘Please.’ Gabriel sat down at the kitchen table, eyeing him. ‘Wayne, how about you and Eddie taking the rest of the day off to drive me to the auction?’
He spun round from the sink in surprise. ‘I thought a friend of yours was coming down from London for it.’
‘He was. But he’s cancelled. And I don’t fancy going on my own. So how about it? You and Eddie have been in on the excitement over the Singleton painting from the first. Wouldn’t you like to be there at the finish?’
So for once Brett Restorations shut up shop for the da
y at twelve noon, to give Wayne and Eddie time to roar off home for a change of clothes and a hasty lunch before coming back to collect Gabriel. She was waiting for them, pale but composed in a white linen jacket, short navy skirt and high heels, her hair twisted into the severe coil Adam had objected to in what seemed like another life.
‘You look great, but how’s the head?’ asked Wayne.
‘Precarious,’ she said briefly, and handed him the car keys. ‘You drive—only not too fast, please.’
Eddie locked up behind Gabriel and handed her into the car as if she were made of glass, and she gave him a grateful smile, touched by his concern. When they arrived at the auction house Eddie waited with her while Wayne went off to park the car, his excitement intense as they watched people arrive, singly and in groups, auction catalogues in hand. Some of them, Gabriel saw, surprised, were faces she knew from London Exhibitions she’d been to with Jeremy, but to her deep relief there was no sign of Jake Trent.
In the Dysart’s annexe next door everything would have been crowded together in no particular order, Gabriel knew, with bidders standing or sitting where they liked. But here, in the more elegant surroundings of the main house, there were formal rows of seats and the furniture on offer was arranged with care, with silver pieces adorning some of the tables, the result effective with the paintings on the crimson walls as backdrop. Neither Adam nor his father was in sight when Gabriel and her escorts slid into seats at the back, but with a tingle of excitement Gabriel saw the white-coated figure of Reg Parker erect an easel alongside the auction box, and two porters reverently slide the Singleton portrait into place.
Eddie nudged Gabriel as a buzz of excitement ran through the room. ‘Everyone’s searching in the catalogue for our painting.’
‘I suppose Adam will give a verbal description,’ whispered Wayne.
Gabriel felt her head begin to pound again as she waited, tense, for Adam to appear. But it was Tom Dysart, tall and genial in a formal dark suit, who mounted into the auction box to open the proceedings with the sale of his collection of English furniture.
Restless Nights Page 14