by Hope Franke
His gaze moved to Gabriele’s face and his countenance sobered. He had to release his grip from Clover’s wrist to accept Gabriele’s hand. His eyes moved once more to the people watching and back to Gabriele’s face. She hoped he couldn’t see the fear she felt in that moment. She wasn’t exactly looking to be Rupert’s next target.
He begrudgingly shook her hand. Gabriele cringed inside as his large clammy palm wrapped around hers.
“Rupert,” he muttered.
“Nice to meet you. I hope you enjoyed my song.”
“Yeah, yeah. It was good.” Rupert slunk back to his seat and took a swig from his beer like nothing had just happened.
“Clover,” she said brightly, linking her arm with the girl’s. “It’s been a long time. Why don’t you come to my table so we can catch up?”
Clover’s eyes darted from Rupert, who appeared flummoxed and back to Gabriele. “Sure.”
Clover grabbed her things and followed Gabriele towards her table at the back of the room. Gabriele thought Clover might just take this opportunity to leave, but surprised her by pulling up an empty chair and sitting beside her. Gabriele noted that Riley had stepped back to the bar. He stared at Rupert with a look of distaste and Gabriele noticed his fists were curling at his side.
Callum, thankfully, returned to his station by the door.
Rupert swiveled his neck and glared at them. Clover kept her gaze focused on the stage. Gabriele shot him a phony, humorless grin.
Riley announced that there would be a thirty minute break before the next set and encouraged the patrons to take the time to order refills. Gabriele caught how Riley’s eyes zeroed in on Clover. Clover didn’t seem to notice.
Gabriele sat stiffly beside Clover. She’d meant to rescue the girl from her domineering sometimes boyfriend, but that didn’t mean she wanted to be her friend. She didn’t think they could ever be friends. What would Clover think if she knew? That her long-time boyfriend had run away to Europe without a word, and had met and married a girl, the girl in the chair beside her now, in just twelve months?
Clover leaned in and said, “You didn’t have to do that, but thanks.”
Gabriele opened her mouth to say “You’re welcome,” but a firm hand landed on her shoulder before she could get the words out.
Callum whispered in her ear. “We need to talk.” Then he returned to the back of the room by the door where he waited with an impatient stare.
Clover threw Gabriele a questioning look.
She debated whether or not she’d respond to the beckoning. A weariness settled on her and she stifled a yawn. She would rather not walk home alone this late at night, especially considering the eerie experience she had while walking to the pub earlier. She’d appreciate the escort, but made him wait at least five minutes for good measure, just so he wouldn’t think she was doing it for him. Then she said goodnight, taking extra time to thank Ciara.
“No problem. You were great,” Ciara said. “Maybe we can jam sometime.”
“I’d like that.”
From her peripheral, Gabriele could see Callum’s growing impatience, his stiff shoulders and overly wide eyes. She faced him and mouthed, “I’m coming.”
Callum had an actual torch for when the darkness broke up the distance between street lamps. He didn’t say anything and Gabriele waited, perplexed.
“You said you wanted to talk.”
“I just didn’t want you talking to Clover.”
“Why?”
“Because you could hurt her.”
His statement made Gabriele wonder if Callum had feelings for his brother’s old flame.
“I’m not that insensitive,” she said. “Besides, meeting Lennon’s old girlfriend hasn’t exactly been a thrill for me, either.”
“I know.”
“So, was it you who followed me here?”
Callum stopped. “You were followed?” The dark intensity that filled his eyes frightened her.
“I thought I heard something. Probably just the wind.”
It had gotten windier. Gabriele grabbed a handful of hair that had blown across her face.
“There’s a storm brewing from the east,” Callum told her. “It’s supposed to get nasty overnight.”
As if on cue, a gust of wind blasted through the trees, dislodging loose branches that sprayed on the road before them. Callum put a protective arm around Gabriele, rushing her to the path by her cottage. The structure acted as a windbreaker.
“If I leave you here, do you promise to stay put? Otherwise, I’m going to have to put a tracker on you.”
Seriously? A tracker? He was joking, right? “Why do you care?”
“Just stay inside until the weather breaks, okay? The tide can get an unbelievably strong storm surge. Don’t even go close to the water.”
“Okay, fine. I’ll stay inside. I won’t go swimming.” Gabriele broke away and unlocked her door.
Callum waited until she stepped inside. “Good night, Gabriele.”
He sounded almost civil. Gabriele caught his eye, noting a flash of emotion. Concern. Interest.
Affection?
“Good night,” she returned softly. She closed the door and greeted the solitude. The wind whistled through the windows and the light she’d just switched on flickered.
Suddenly, she really wished she didn’t have to sleep alone.
Then . . .
GABRIELE TRIED to ignore Julia’s texts and calls, but her friend was persistent and in the end Gabriele said yes to Julia’s invitation to join her and a few of their girlfriends for drinks. “Lennon would want you to,” Julia said.
That was the thing about Julia. She wasn’t afraid to talk to Gabriele about Lennon. Where almost everyone else avoided talking about her deceased husband, at least to her face, Julia had made it clear from the day of the funeral that she was available to talk about Lennon as much as Gabriele wanted. Julia had lost her brother Jonny when she was ten and all she wanted to do after he died was talk about him. When everyone else was sick of the topic, Gabriele had been there.
“It’s like people just want me to forget about him,” Julia had complained.
Gabriele had put her arm around Julia’s bony shoulders. “They’re just afraid the memories will hurt you.”
“The memories don’t hurt me, Gabi. It’s forgetting the memories that hurt.”
“Well, here.” Gabriele tugged on Julia’s dark ponytail. She had long hair back then, and Julia laughed. Jonny always pulled on her ponytail.
Gabriele had been there for Julia, and Julia had promised to return the favor for as long as it took.
Gabriele read Julia’s latest text.
Julia Milch
I promised Ulrich I’d have dinner with him tonight, but drinks and desert later at Ontario’s at 20:00?
Ontario was a Canadian-themed restaurant in the middle of the Altstadt near the famous Frauenkirche, about a twenty-five minute walk away. Ulrich was Julia’s boyfriend of three months. He was the reason she hadn’t seen that much of Julia lately, but Gabriele didn’t mind. It was easier to be alone sometimes.
Gabrielle Baumann-Smith
Okay. I’ll meet you there.
Julia Milch
Great! I’ll invite Britt and Silke.
Gabriele moaned a little. Britt and Silke were her friends, too, but they always acted so strangely around Gabriele now like they were afraid they might break her if they weren’t careful enough.
Gabriele brushed her hair and applied makeup for the first time in ages. It felt strange but good, a sign she was digging out of her hole. She dressed simply in jeans, a blouse and a rust-coloured autumn jacket, adding a burgundy cotton scarf before saying good-bye to her parents.
Shoving fists into her pockets, Gabriele walked down Alaunstrasse past the park where the headbangers sat on cement benches with large, sleepy dogs lying at their feet, the Asian restaurants, coffee shops, the Euro store, and around the corner past a Subway restaurant to the intersection at Albe
rtplatz.
Occasionally, as she made her way down the tree-lined pedestrian lane, she’d pass a couple or a group of people speaking English and her heart would pinch a little. Except for her English language tours at the museum, Gabriele rarely spoke English to anyone anymore.
Before she knew it, she was crossing the old stone Augustus Bridge. Car tires crunched on the cobblestones as they drove across. Streetcars hummed on their tracks. Double-decker tourist busses slowed so the customers could take in the view of the River Elbe and the awe-inspiring baroque architecture of the Altstadt.
Julia was already there when Gabriele arrived, with Silke and Britt sitting on the opposite side of the table. Julia waved Gabriele over and she hugged them all quickly in greeting. Julia scooted down on the red vinyl booth seat to make room for her.
Gabriele removed her scarf and smiled. “How is everyone?” She was the one who was making her friends uncomfortable with her sad life. It was up to her to break the ice and ease their minds.
“We’re good,” Silke said. She tilted her head and looked imploringly into Gabriele’s eyes. “How are you? It must be so hard.”
“I’ve had better days,” Gabriele admitted.
Britt’s eyes were wide and fluttering like she was fighting to find something to say, but afraid of saying the wrong thing. She was saved by the arrival of the server.
A round of drinks and dessert brownies were ordered before the awkward pause landed again.
“My brother’s back in town.” Britt looked at Gabriele and patted her hand. “And he’s single.”
Gabriele felt her neck flush. She’d had a crush on Axel once upon a time, back in her teens. But somehow she just couldn’t go there yet. Maybe she’d date again. Someday. But it certainly wasn’t something she could think about today. “Oh, uh…”
“Gabriele’s not ready to date yet,” Julia answered for her. “There’s plenty of time for that later.”
“Of course,” Britt stared at the table looking embarrassed like she’d done exactly what she didn’t want to do and said the wrong thing.
“It’s okay, Britt,” Gabriele said, patting her hand back. “I appreciate you thinking that I’m good enough to date your brother.”
Britt laughed nervously. “Oh, yeah. You’re good enough for him. It’s the other way around I’m not sure about. I’m glad you said no.”
Their order arrived, and Julia was the first to dig into her brownie bar. “How was your visit with Lennon today?” Silke and Britt stared at her with wide eyes like they couldn’t believe she asked that. That she’d said his name out loud. Gabriele felt pity for them.
“It was sad, but good. I dreamed about him this morning again.”
“Another make-out dream?” Julia said, winking. Britt gasped and Silke choked on her water.
Gabriele couldn’t help but grin. “Yes, of course. But this time he said ‘good-bye’ and told me to ‘Live well’.”
“Oh, my goodness, Gabi,” Julia said. “He’s telling you it’s time to move on.”
Gabriele sighed. “Yeah, but how?”
Julia nudged her shoulder. “Maybe you need to go on a trip. We should plan a holiday together just us girls.”
Gabriele noticed how Britt and Silke stiffened. It was an exciting idea if you had a lot of money and weren’t traveling with a grieving widow.
“Actually,” Gabriele said, “I got some interesting news today.”
Julia smirked. “Do tell.”
“Lennon had a will. He left me something.”
All the girls leaned in, curious. “What?” Julia demanded. “What did he leave you?”
“A cottage on the southern shore of England.”
Julia smacked Gabriele in the arm. “No way!”
“It’s true.”
Julia’s jaw hung loose. “He left you beachfront property?”
Gabriele nodded. “That’s what the will said.”
Julia squealed. “Oh my goodness, Gabi, you’ve got to go. You’re going, aren’t you?”
“Lennon said in the will that he wanted me to sell it. It’s probably worth a lot. It would be nice to have some money.”
“But you’re going to go see it first, right? You must be dying to see it.” Julia was nearly hyperventilating. “I know I would.”
“Yes,” Gabriele said. “I’m curious. But what would be the point?”
“The point is you get to spend time in a cottage on the beach in England. You get to leave Dresden for a while, which would do you some good in my opinion. You get a glimpse into Lennon’s past, which I know you want. You get closure, Gabi.” Julia tugged on one of her short dark pigtails and stared hard into Gabriele’s eyes. “You have to go.”
Silke’s soft voice broke through Julia’s intensity. “Where in England is your cottage?”
“It’s in a village called Emsworth.”
“Oh,” Britta said, “It sounds regal.”
“I really don’t know anything about it,” Gabriele admitted. “I haven’t even looked it up online.”
“Why not?” Julia asked.
Gabriele shrugged. “I wasn’t planning on going.”
Julia dug into her purse and removed a smartphone. “I have data,” she said. Her thumbs raced across the keyboard. “Here is a satellite map. Wow. It looks quaint. Lot’s of water front.”
Julia passed her phone around. Gabriele took it last and stared at it for a long time. The town did look quaint. She imagined Lennon playing on the beach there as a child. What was it about this town that Lennon despised so much that he refused to go back? That he didn’t even want to speak of the place to her?
“You think I should go?” Gabriele asked softly.
Julia lifted a forkful of brownie. “Most definitely.”
CALLUM REALLY DIDN’T WANT to leave Gabriele alone. Their friendship, if you could call it that, didn’t make room for invitations to sleep over in one’s spare room. If the wind hadn’t turned bitterly cold, he’d consider camping out on her front step.
He sighed and headed through the trees to his house. He flicked on the lights as a warning to any would-be intruders that he was home. He should’ve told Gabriele to leave a light on. He withdrew his phone from his pocket and texted.
Callum Jones
Leave a light on overnight tonight
A few moments later.
Gabriele Baumann
Why?
Callum studied her name. She’d dropped the Smith. Interesting.
Callum Jones
Just as a precaution.
Gabriele Baumann
A precaution against what?
Freak. Couldn’t she just do what he asked her to for once?
Callum Jones
Just a precaution!
Gabriele Baumann
Okay. Fine. Keep your shorts on.
Callum couldn’t help the grin that crept onto his face. This girl had spunk. The way she came to Clover Swift’s rescue was impressive. Especially since Gabriele knew who Clover was. Most girls would’ve just watched the drama unfold and not felt a compulsion to help their husband’s ex.
He was starting to see why Mick had been so smitten.
Callum removed his jacket but kept his shoes on, rubbing the soles on the mat to clean them. He took a moment to make himself a tuna sandwich that he washed down with a glass of milk. He was tempted to pour himself a drink from his father’s whiskey collection. Callum opened the liquor cabinet, twisted a cap off a bottle and sniffed. The smell reminded him of his father. Joe Leatherby enjoyed a nightcap before bed each night. Callum could picture the older man sitting on the deck in the summer, watching the moon reflect over the channel as he sipped the amber liquid and said good night to the day. On cooler evenings, he’d put his feet up on the coffee table in front of the telly and watch Sky News.
A hollow ache folded over in his chest. He missed his father deeply and his brother, too. They didn’t always get along, but for the most part, they were close, as close as three guys coul
d get, anyway. They debated and laughed, and didn’t hesitate to tease each other, but they had each other’s back.
Callum missed Mick’s weekly check-ins. He’d followed Mick’s love affair from the first day he met Gabriele Baumann while traveling through Germany. Mick’s stories about his bungling efforts to learn the language and to fit in with the culture were amusing. Some of his tales were hilarious and made Callum chortle out loud, but underneath there was always the tone of the seriousness of the situation. Mick struggled with homesickness and often felt like a refugee, but he claimed that having Gabriele in his life made it bearable.
Callum had been glad Mick found love again—he had always been the romantic one of their duo—but he had worried it would end badly.
And it had.
Now the woman he blamed for his brother’s death was right next door. Try as he might, he couldn’t seem to get rid of her. Worse yet, he was starting to fancy her. Even walking close to her that evening had set his nerves alight. When she hugged him yesterday, sobbing into his chest, she almost blew his circuits. He breathed in her shampoo and if she hadn’t been the source of his own personal pain, he might’ve embraced her back. The war in his mind and body was definitely on.
Callum put the whiskey back in the cupboard and made himself a cup of coffee. He didn’t drink when he was on assignment. He needed all his senses on alert. And Gabriele was his assignment.
She thought she’d been followed. It might’ve been her imagination, but Callum worried it was not. He had good reason to believe that Gabriele Baumann’s life was in danger. For the sake of his brother’s memory, Callum had to keep her safe.
CIARA WAVED Gabriele over when she walked into the pub the next morning. “Don’t tell me you’re drinking beer for breakfast again. That’s a bad habit to form.”
Gabriele smirked at her new friend’s joke. “No, I’m here for breakfast. I’d like two eggs on toast.”