The Bridesmaid's Secret

by Sophie Weston

  Bella stared.

  He moved the cutlery on the table into a precise pattern. ‘I hear what people say. I just don’t know what they mean.’ His smile was painful. ‘I suppose I need a translator. Someone like you.’

  ‘Like me?’

  ‘You seem to have the twenty-first century sussed,’ Gil pointed out.

  ‘You’re joking, right?’

  He was puzzled. She could see it. ‘No.’

  ‘But I’m a walking disaster.’

  He laughed, his eyes suddenly warm. ‘I don’t buy that. A tango-dancing disaster, maybe.’

  Bella shivered. ‘Oh, I can get dressed up in my party gear and dazzle the world. Doesn’t stop me making a complete prat of myself.’

  Remembering just how complete a prat, her whole body flinched.

  Gil’s dark eyes narrowed. ‘You are talking about a specific instance, aren’t you? Want to tell me?’

  Bella swallowed, shaking her head. She could still hardly bear to remember that shaming scene. Every time it came into her mind, she recoiled, wincing. She was not ready to tell anyone else about it. Not even someone who thought he had his own disasters.

  ‘I—can’t—’ she said, with difficulty.

  He saw her distress. ‘It can’t be that bad.’

  ‘Oh, yes, it can,’ said Bella, pulling herself together. ‘I know you think I’m—what was it you called me in New York?—a girl who likes to live on the edge?’

  ‘Yes,’ he said. A ghost of a smile played about that voluptuary’s mouth. ‘Are you trying to tell me I was wrong?’

  ‘Oh, no, you were right,’ she said with bitter self-mockery. ‘Live on the edge and sometimes you fall off. I did.’

  He digested that.

  ‘It doesn’t show,’ he said at last.

  Bella shrugged. ‘So I’m a good liar.’

  He banged his fist down on the table, making the cutlery sing and Bella jump.

  ‘That’s exactly what I’m talking about.’

  She stared. ‘I don’t follow.’

  ‘I can read men,’ he said impatiently. ‘Well, most of them. But women hide and shift and tell half-truths. I get them wrong every time.’ He sounded as if he really despised himself.

  Bella found she could not bear it.

  ‘You didn’t,’ she said loudly, ‘get me wrong.’

  It was his turn to stare. ‘What?’

  Again she quoted him. ‘“I’m not sure you know what you want. You’ve had a hell of day.”’ She smiled painfully. ‘How many other people do you think noticed me having a hell of a day? I was doing the bridesmaid-as-cheer-leader bit. And, as you say, I’m good at it. Even my mother didn’t see that I was desperate to escape.’

  Gil’s eyes widened. In the candlelight they were brown velvet shot with gold. Suddenly he was not looking inwards, castigating himself, he was looking at her, really looking at her. She saw his eyes soften, turn warm and melting. She began to feel breathless.

  Suddenly speech was difficult. ‘But you saw it,’ she managed.

  There was complete silence.

  This time it was Bella who took his hand.

  ‘Thank you for the second room,’ she said quietly. ‘But it won’t be needed.’

  The storm went on rising. Rain lashed against the windows like automatic-weapons fire. The old building seemed to shudder at the wind. And then the lights went out.

  ‘Just as well I lit the fires in your rooms,’ said the owner, coming in with more candles. ‘The central heating will be out till morning now. We emptied the coffee machine into a couple of Thermos flasks, though, so you don’t have to go without coffee.’

  Bella’s fingers twitched in his, turned and clasped strongly.

  Gil took up the message, smooth as a runner handed a baton.

  ‘No coffee, thank you. We’ll go up now.’

  ‘Fine. I’ll show you the way.’

  She gave them a candle each and raised her own branch high to illumine the uneven wooden stairs. Bella did not let go of Gil’s hand as they followed.

  The rooms were next door to each other, off a creaking corridor. In spite of the log fires, both were chilly.

  ‘Sorry about that,’ said the owner. ‘Whoever takes the four-poster can pull the curtains round it. That generally keeps the heat in.’

  She said goodnight.

  Left alone, they looked at each other. Then Gil took Bella’s candle from her. He put both candles down carefully.

  She gave a little laugh, half excitement, half embarrassment.

  Embarrassment? Me? Sophisticate and world-class party girl? How can I be embarrassed?

  But she was. All she wanted was to be in his arms. And she did not know how to get there.

  It was crazy. All she had to do was walk over to him, take his face in her hands and kiss that rake’s mouth until he lost control. Then they would be fine.

  But something she had not felt before staked her to the spot. Something that said, this is too important to get it wrong. Something that said, if you take charge here, you’ve blown it. Something that said, Help!

  And Gil—Gil who’d said he had a blind spot about sex and got women wrong—rescued her.

  He said, ‘Looks like we’re going to have to keep each other warm.’ He sounded amused. And a lot more.

  Bella, cool-hearted sophisticate and twenty-first century guru, trembled.

  ‘Come here?’ That didn’t sound amused at all. It sounded deadly serious. But it was still a question. It seemed that, even now, he was reminding her that she still had a choice.

  So in the end it was quite easy to walk into his arms, after all.

  Later, when the candles had guttered and the tree outside was rattling its leaves against the old leaded window, Bella lay in his arms, staring at the shadows the firelight set dancing. She cradled his hand where it cupped her breast possessively. It felt as if she had done it a thousand times before. It felt spine-tinglingly new. She gave a sigh of perfect content.

  ‘Happy?’ she asked, although she knew the answer.

  Gil stretched lazily, though he did not remove the hand on her breast.

  ‘I’ll do.’

  She turned her head. ‘You’ll do?’ she echoed in mock outrage. ‘You’ll do?’

  She hauled herself up on her elbow to look down at him. ‘You have the most mind-blowing experience of the decade and all you can say is you’ll do?’

  He traced her mouth idly. In the flickering light she could see that his eyes were dancing.

  ‘Seems to cover it.’

  She collapsed on his chest, laughing softly. ‘I suppose it does.’

  He gathered her close again, pulling the covers up over her bare shoulders. The protectiveness of the gesture moved her to the heart. Possessive in her turn, she kissed the bare, warm shoulder.

  ‘How do you feel?’

  He groaned.

  ‘No, I mean it. How do you feel?’

  His arm tightened round her. ‘Right.’

  ‘What?’

  She reared up to look at him. Gil smiled right into her eyes.

  ‘Right,’ he repeated softly. ‘Like everything fits and the problem is solved. Just—right.’

  ‘Oh,’ said Bella on a long, wondering note.

  She wanted to tell him that she felt the same. That she had never, ever, felt so complete. Or so completely happy.

  But the day was taking its toll. Her eyelids drooped. Once, twice, she jerked herself awake, wanting to tell him she loved him. But sleep was too strong for her.

  Her head came to rest in the crook of his shoulder. His arm curved round her. Her breathing lengthened, relaxed, quiet-ened.

  Gil held her against the steady rise and fall of his chest. He felt her limbs slacken, her head grow heavy. She slept, while he watched the shadows.

  He was frowning. He had seen something in her tonight that he would never have imagined. His passionate tango dancer had a secret that made her flinch just to think of it. He wanted to draw the splin
ter, to make her realise that whatever had happened in the past was over. That the future was the two of them. And it was going to be glorious.

  No past mistake was ever going to matter to her again. No matter how much she might think it hurt now. Their shared future was going to wipe it out. He would see to it.

  I will keep her safe, he promised himself. I will keep her safe.

  In the morning, everything was different.

  Coming awake in a strange bed, at first Bella did not know where she was. She knew she was cold, though. There should have been arms round her. She was sure that she was not supposed to be alone this morning, though she was a bit hazy on the details.

  Then a laughing voice out of memory said, ‘We exchanged pheromones!’

  Bella sat bolt upright. No, of course she was not supposed to be alone. Where was Gil? He hadn’t had second thoughts, had he?

  No, she thought, wrapping her arms round herself. No, he wouldn’t have had second thoughts. Not after last night.

  Another remark curled like mist out of that night in New York. ‘I only do one thing at a time.’ Boy, oh, boy, he certainly does, thought Bella, purring at last night’s memories. She found she was smiling with her whole body.

  Still, he should be here to remind her in person. She gave up trying to sleep and went to look for him.

  She found him outside among a scene of devastation. The village green was littered with fallen branches, roof tiles and various detritus that the wind had picked up and dumped. The road was blocked by a fallen tree. There were five or six people there, wandering round in silence. They looked stunned.

  Except for Gil. He was, she saw, quietly taking charge. Bella was beginning to wonder if he had it in him to feel normal stuff at all.

  How could he have left their bed without a word to come and organise a civic removal operation? And he was doing it so well too. No raised voices. No arguments. Just a steady eye on the goal and total persistence. Every time anyone dropped one of the saws or ropes and looked round in dismay, Gil was there. He encouraged them. Sometimes he made them laugh. But he was absolutely determined to get them back on track, pulling with the communal effort. And he did.

  ‘One thing at a time’, thought Bella, chilled. This time it’s not me. So he’s put me out of his mind. She realised that the tabby-cat sweater was no protection at all against the cold.

  He saw her. She knew he saw her because he raised a hand and smiled. But it was not the right smile. It was friendly enough, as friendly as he was to everyone else who was doing what he told them to do, but it was not intimate. It certainly did not say, You’re special, nor, This lady is mine. It said—

  ‘Hi.’ He did not even come over to her. He certainly did not kiss her. All that passion last night and he did not even kiss her. ‘You’re up. Good. We can do with another pair of hands.’

  Bella felt herself ice up. It was a feeling she recognised.

  She said quietly, ‘I’ll get a coat.’

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  BELLA worked hard, hauling lopped branches. It broke all the nails that had been so smartly shaped and painted for the wedding. She hardly noticed. She did not notice the biting cold or the wobbly front wheel on the wheelbarrow either. She was too busy watching Gil. And realising that, in spite of the revelatory intimacies of last night, she really did not know him at all.

  When the road was clear at last and the dead tree was disappearing down the road behind a local tractor, she sat down for the first time. Her legs were shaking.

  Gil strode up, carrying the last of the mighty branches. He was laughing. His hair was all over the place and his shirt was torn. It revealed a surprisingly muscular shoulder. Except, of course, it was no surprise to Bella who had slept with her mouth against those muscles.

  But that was last night, she thought desolately. This is morning. And a big hello to common sense!

  Gil dropped his burden. ‘You’re looking gloomy. What’s wrong?’

  Gloomy! Bella glared at him. Well, she was not to let him see how rejected she felt. And she was not going to let herself even think that rejection mattered.

  So she said the first thing that came into her head. ‘I’ve broken my nails.’

  He blinked. ‘Is that a problem?’

  ‘I work at a fashion magazine,’ said Bella improvising wildly. ‘It’s not going to look good. I shall have to get a manicure before I can go into work.’

  He grinned down at her. He had dirt on his cheek and the brown eyes were brilliant. He looked wickedly sexy.

  ‘Then, don’t go.’

  Bella looked at up. For a moment she almost thought he was asking her to stay with him. But then she saw the laughing challenge. No, he wasn’t asking her to stay. Oh, he wanted her. But he wanted her available. Not with him. Not close and committed for ever.

  Well, she couldn’t blame him. Why on earth should he want her for ever? They did not have that sort of relationship. They had fireworks and passion and nothing to say to each other in the morning, while he went off and ran the world. He had never said anything to suggest otherwise. It was stupid to hope for it. They were poles apart. He was nearly a professor and she was a party girl.

  She said quietly, ‘I don’t think that would be a sensible idea, do you?’

  The gleam died out of his eyes. ‘No, I suppose not.’

  All of sudden he looked tired.

  Bella could only pick at the breakfast the small hotel provided. Gil ate a hearty meal. All through it, people wandered up, talking about the road clearing operation, other disasters further up the route to London, life. Clearly they had taken him to their hearts.

  ‘They’ll be giving you the freedom of Toytown next,’ said Bella.

  It was meant to be joke but it sounded waspish, the way it came out. Gil looked at her narrowly.

  ‘What’s wrong?’

  ‘Nothing.’

  ‘You’re not really worried about that silly job, are you?’

  ‘It’s not silly,’ said Bella, firing up. ‘It’s my first go at a career and I love it. I’m very lucky to have this opportunity.’

  ‘So, if I asked you to stay, the answer would be no?’

  She gave a hard little laugh. ‘I don’t answer hypothetical questions.’

  His eyes were very steady.

  ‘OK. Forget the hypothesis. Stay with me.’

  But she was too wretched to listen. Or maybe too scared.

  She had never felt like this. She had thought she had broken her heart last year when Kosta had looked at her kindly and had shut the door in her face. Now she was beginning to think that she had not even scratched the surface of heartbreak. And she had not seen it coming this time.

  She was desperate to be alone and regroup her forces. Or she would fall apart.

  So she said, ‘I’ve got to be back at work tomorrow morning. I promised.’ And went on saying it.

  In the end, Gil did as she asked and took her straight to the airport.

  On the concourse, he turned her to face him.

  ‘Bella, what is it?’ he said urgently. ‘What happened?’

  The crowd jostled them. She staggered as her foot slipped on the industrial shiny floor. He grabbed her hands and held on to them but she still felt a thousand miles away. It was the place, she thought, like a hospital, so bright and impersonal, with all these little personal dramas all around them that did not amount to a row of beans.

  ‘Bella.’ He shook her gently. He sounded exasperated but so far away. Even his voice was different, spiralling up to high girders over their heads and getting lost.

  She detached her hands gently.

  ‘Nothing happened.’

  ‘Bella!’

  ‘Thank you for driving me here.’

  ‘So that’s it, is it?’

  Suddenly his eyes were dangerous. It shook Bella out of her fatalistic cocoon, at least for a moment.

  ‘What?’

  ‘A little dalliance after the festivities, then thank you and good
bye!’

  She blinked. What was wrong with him? That was what he wanted, wasn’t it? She nearly said so.

  But Gil didn’t give her time. He was saying. ‘I don’t know why I’m surprised. I even heard you, didn’t I, saying you weren’t ready to commit?’ The sudden attack was savage. ‘Annis and Kosta can do it. But you don’t fancy it.’

  Maybe if he hadn’t mentioned Kosta…Maybe if he hadn’t mentioned Annis, whom her mother thought he might be in love with…Maybe if he hadn’t looked through her this morning…

  Bella felt as if she had been drenched in ice.

  She said furiously, ‘You want to know what happened? All right, I’ll tell you.’

  She tore her hands away and stepped back.

  ‘I was in love with Kosta,’ she said in a thin, precise voice. Her throat hurt. ‘I thought he—Well, it doesn’t matter. He barely knew Annis then. It never occurred to me—Well, that doesn’t matter either. At the time, I thought he was writing me off as too young and silly. So I thought, I’ll show him I’m a modern woman. There’s no point in hanging around. If you want something, go for it.’

  She gave a shrug with a self-mocking laugh. That hurt too.

  Gil was staring at her. His face had gone impassive again. Only his eyes burned.

  ‘So I gave it my best shot. I turned up at his door at midnight. Bottle of champagne. No bus fare home. No underwear.’

  He made a strangled sound.

  ‘It’s all right. He didn’t know. We never got far enough for him to find out.’ She swallowed and gave him a glittering, painful smile. ‘He called a cab and paid him to take me home. Very smooth.’

  Gil looked as if he had been carved in stone. ‘You’re saying that last night was about running away from Kosta Vitale?’

  Bella shrugged again. She looked away.

  ‘I don’t believe you.’

  She glanced up at the departures board. Her flight was blinking. She picked up her overnight bag and looped it over her shoulder.

  ‘Sorry about that.’ She could not have sounded less sorry if she’d tried.

  ‘I don’t believe it,’ he said again more strongly.

  She turned back to him and met his eyes.

  ‘But, then, you were telling me—you’re no good at reading women, are you?’ she said cruelly.