by Caro Fraser
When he reached her flat, he could see no light on. He left the cab waiting at the kerb, and buzzed the bell. But there was no reply. He stepped back out onto the rainy pavement and looked up again at the dark windows. Then he took his mobile from his pocket and keyed in her number again. Still nothing but voicemail. Whatever had happened at the poker game had left her in a state, he now realised, and he probably should have stayed with her. He guessed she had probably gone to her parents, as she occasionally did, and it wouldn’t do to call there at this hour. He would speak to her in the morning.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Anthony tried Gabrielle’s mobile several times the next morning, but each time it went straight to voicemail. He assumed she must be at her parents’ house – she’d certainly seemed badly upset by the events of last night, for reasons that weren’t wholly clear – and that she would answer his calls when she felt like it. He had learnt to deal with her occasional bouts of moodiness, and periods of radio silence.
Around half eleven Edward dropped by the flat, a bundle of Sunday newspapers under his arm.
‘God, what a night! I’ve only had four hours’ sleep. Thought you might fancy a spot of brunch to discuss it all. There’s a good place I know in Chelsea. Come on, grab your coat!’
They drove to Chelsea in Edward’s Alpha Romeo convertible. It was a chilly ride, because the soft top was jammed in the down position. Edward explained he kept meaning to get it fixed, but just hadn’t got round to it.
‘So, were the police called?’ asked Anthony, keen to know how matters had developed after he’d left. Above all, he wanted to know if he could expect any fallout from the final, disastrous round of poker.
Edward shook his head. ‘So far as I know, the Saudis are buying their way out of it. Some Arab chaps came and picked up the fat, drunk one, and Caspar brokered a deal between the Saudis and the Russian girls. That may not be the end of it, of course. Turns out he didn’t actually rape her – not that that’s the point, trying to is just as bad – but he did assault her. Keeping it all quiet is going to cost them quite a packet. Is that a parking place up the end there?’
They continued the discussion over bacon, eggs, grilled tomatoes and hash browns, plus champagne cocktails which Edward insisted were necessary to bring about his full recovery. He drank one off straight away, and handed the empty glass to the waitress. ‘Two more of those please, and a jug of freshly squeezed orange juice. So – shame about your poker game. Piers said it was just getting interesting when everything kicked off.’
‘You could say that. I think it was probably just as well for both of us that it ended the way it did.’
‘Rubbish hand?’
‘Actually,’ said Anthony, ‘I was on my way to an ace-high flush. But you know how it is – it’s always possible someone’s holding a better hand. I think last night made me realise I’m not a very good gambler. I reckon I’ll give it a rest. It’s put quite a dent in my finances.’
‘I suppose it’s all about knowing your limitations. Caspar said he’s redistributing last night’s pot, so everyone gets their stake back. Tom’s pretty chuffed, since he was about sixteen thousand down.’
‘Well, it was twenty thousand I couldn’t exactly afford to lose either.’
‘So – no winners, no losers.’ The waitress arrived with food, orange juice, and two fresh champagne cocktails. ‘Excellent,’ said Edward. ‘All we need now is a round of toast, and some brown sauce.’
When they left the restaurant a couple of hours later, after sifting and yawning their way through the Sunday papers, Anthony got Edward to drop him off at Gabrielle’s flat. He stood on the corner and watched Edward roaring off, bellowing farewells, the chilly air tousling his hair. Anthony went into the building and rang the bell, but still there was no answer. He contemplated making the twenty-minute walk to her parents’ house in Ennismore Gardens, but decided against it. If she couldn’t be bothered to take his calls, why should he go chasing after her? He walked home, stopping at Waitrose on the way to pick up groceries, and spent the rest of the day catching up on chores and preparing for an interlocutory hearing the following day.
It was late on Monday afternoon when Jackie rang Leo in chambers.
‘You’ll think me very stupid, calling you like this. I was actually trying to reach Gabrielle’s boyfriend, Anthony. But they say he’s in court.’
It was a forcible reminder to Leo of a situation which he had so far failed to address, either emotionally or practically.
‘Very likely,’ said Leo. ‘How can I help?’
‘Gabrielle hasn’t been answering her phone for two days. I spoke to some of her friends, and they haven’t seen her or spoken to her either, even though she’s meant to be at lectures today. I know she was going to some party with Anthony on Saturday. I thought he might be able to help because, frankly, I’m worried.’
‘I’m sure she’s fine. Probably just lost her phone.’
‘Maybe. But I have to know she’s all right. Could you have a word with Anthony? Just ask him to tell her to get in touch?’
Leo hesitated. ‘Gabrielle hasn’t told Anthony I’m her father, you know. He’s going to wonder what she has to do with me.’
‘Oh, Leo – I don’t really care! Why is this some big secret? Daniel has no problem with people knowing, so why should you? Tell him you’re an old friend of the family, if you like – whatever. I just have to find out that Gabrielle is all right.’
He could hardly refuse. Anyway, the situation was bound to turn into some kind of ridiculous charade, if someone didn’t say something soon. Anthony might as well find out now. In a way, he was glad that matters were coming to a head.
‘I’ll speak to him when he comes back from court. He shouldn’t be more than fifteen minutes or so.’
‘Thank you.’
Leo put the phone down. He was possibly about to jeopardise the happiness of two of the people he cared most for in the world. But he had no choice. How Anthony would react, what he would say or do, was anyone’s guess. Leo got up and strolled to the window. Halfway through January, and the days were beginning to lengthen slightly, dusk falling a little later each day. As he gazed down, he saw Anthony come from the cloisters and across Caper Court, still in his bands, his red robing bag slung over one shoulder. Leo sighed. Time to grasp the nettle. He went downstairs to the clerks’ room to intercept Anthony.
He found him going through the post from his pigeonhole, while Henry bent his ear regarding the fees on a new case.
‘I’ll have no problem justifying the fees, Mr C, but whether I’ll get them or not is another matter. Still, I always work on the principle that if you don’t ask, you don’t get.’
‘Well, do your best, Henry. I’ve had to do a bit of financial belt-tightening recently.’
‘Anthony, have you got a minute?’ said Leo. ‘There’s something I need to talk to you about.’
‘Sure. I just need to put this stuff away.’
‘That’s OK. We can go to your room.’ On the way upstairs Leo asked, ‘What was all that about belt-tightening? Don’t tell me you’re still losing a fortune gambling.’
‘No,’ replied Anthony. His manner was curt, but as they reached his room, it relented. ‘If you want to know, I’ve given all that up. Or at least, I’ve decided to. I’m not sure how easy it’s going to be. To be honest I got myself into a hell of a mess. Mentally, I mean. It was getting obsessive.’ He slung his robing bag in a corner of the room. ‘I really wanted to talk to you about it – you know, that evening when you found me here going through my bank statements.’
‘I know you did. Neither of us was in the right place. If you’ve made up your mind to stop, I reckon you’ll do it without my help. But it’s there if you need it. Remember that.’ Leo moved some papers from a chair and sat down. ‘There was something I wanted to tell you, too, that evening. I didn’t, and I wish now I had, because events have rather overtaken me, and I find I must.’
Anthony
loosened his collar stud and took off his bands. He unbuttoned the neck of his collarless shirt and sat down at his desk, waiting. He could tell from Leo’s face that it was something important.
‘You’re going to the High Court Bench?’
Leo shook his head impatiently. ‘No word about that yet. No, this is more personal. It’s about someone we both know. Gabrielle.’
Anthony stared. ‘You know her?’
‘Yes. Quite well, as it happens.’
‘You’re not—?’
Leo could see that if he didn’t say something quickly, Anthony would start to jump to all kinds of ridiculous conclusions.
‘For God’s sake, I’m her father.’ There was a silence. ‘There. That’s it. I had an affair with Gabrielle’s mother twenty-odd years ago. She went back to France without telling me she was pregnant. I only discovered a few months ago that Gabrielle is my daughter. And Gabrielle only told me recently that she was seeing you.’
Anthony let this revelation sink in. It was a while before he could speak. ‘This is unbelievable. You. Of all people—’
‘I know. Not a great situation, is it?’
‘Why didn’t she tell me about this? Why didn’t you?’
‘She didn’t tell you because she hasn’t told a lot of people. She knows we work in the same chambers, but—’
‘For God’s sake, I’ve talked about you! She listened to me talking about you and she said nothing! Why?’
‘That’s something you’ll have to ask her. I didn’t tell you because … well, when I discovered Gabrielle was seeing you, I hoped your relationship might turn out to be a short-lived thing. I gather now, from what she tells me, that’s not the case.’
‘I don’t know what she feels. I don’t know what she thinks. I realise I don’t know – anything.’ Anthony put his head in his hands, trying to make sense of it. Certain things fell into place, the familiarity of things about her, mannerisms. All the time she had reminded him of Leo. Was that the reason he had fallen in love with her?
Leo was silent for a moment. He knew it would take Anthony some time to come to terms with it all – if he ever did. But there was also the matter of Jacqueline’s phone call.
‘The reason I’m telling you this now is because Gabrielle’s mother rang me this afternoon, while you were in court. She’s worried about Gabrielle. She can’t get hold of her, hasn’t heard from her in two days. She said she knew you and Gabrielle were going to a party on Saturday, and she hoped you might know where she is or why she hasn’t been in touch.’
Anthony lifted his head from his hands. ‘I haven’t been able to get hold of her myself. The last time I saw her was at …’ He hesitated. ‘At that place on Saturday.’
‘What place?’ Leo began to feel alarmed. He’d been hoping Anthony would have an easy explanation for the lack of contact. ‘Tell me exactly where you were and who you were with.’
‘We were at Blunt’s. It’s a members-only casino in Mayfair. The owners were hosting a private poker game for some Saudi playboys. The game was going on in one room, and there was some kind of party going on in another. I was playing poker.’
‘And?’
‘Something kicked off next door. I think one of the Saudis got drunk and tried it on with one of the girls – away from the party, I mean, in a bedroom. The word was he tried to rape her, and that he knocked her about, assaulted her. I don’t really know. Like I say, I was in the poker game.’
‘And Gabrielle?’
‘When I left the game with everyone else to find out what was going on, she was …’ He frowned, recalling. ‘She was standing in the doorway, and Edward and some other guy were holding the man. The one who’d tried to rape the girl. She was shocked. Well, all the girls were, I suppose, but Gab seemed really shaken. White-faced. I went into the bedroom to see what was going on, and when I went back to find her, she’d gone.’
‘She’d left?’
‘She must have. No one saw her go. I kept ringing her mobile, and I went round to her flat, but she wasn’t there. I assumed she’d gone to her parents’ place. I kept ringing the next morning, and went round to her flat again. Then I gave up, decided to wait till she got in touch with me. She does this sometimes. Goes out of radio contact for a few days, for whatever reason.’ He stared at Leo, as if seeing Gabrielle through him, still trying to fathom the fatefulness of it all, that Leo should be Gabrielle’s father.
‘She didn’t show up at college today, no one’s seen or heard from her,’ said Leo. ‘I need to know more about Saturday night. After the incident, I take it the police were called?’
‘No. That is, Caspar Egan, the chap who runs Blunt’s, was all set to call them, but when I spoke to Edward the next day he said the Saudis persuaded him not to, paid everyone off to try and hush it up. I don’t know how it was done. I’d left before it happened.’
‘So Gabrielle thought the police were going to be called?’
‘I suppose so,’ said Anthony slowly. ‘I don’t know. You think that’s why she left? But where could she possibly have gone if she didn’t go home, or to her parents?’
‘I think I have an idea. At any rate, don’t worry. No need to post her as a missing person just yet. I’ll call her mother.’ Leo rose and went to the door. He paused and turned. ‘Look, I realise what I’ve told you has come as a shock. It’s going to be hard for you to get your head around, but it will sort itself out in time. It’s just a question of recognising priorities, making things work.’
Anthony sat back in his chair and gazed at Leo, then nodded, his face expressionless.
Leo went back to his room and called Jacqueline.
‘I’ve spoken to Anthony. He hasn’t heard from Gabrielle either. Apparently there was some trouble at whatever party they were at, and there was an idea the police were going to be called. They weren’t, as it happens, but I think for some reason the possibility scared her, and she took off.’ Leo was on his laptop, tapping at the keys as he talked.
‘But why would she do that? And where would she go? If she was frightened for whatever reason, surely she would come to us. Why would she be scared of the police? What kind of trouble was there at the party?’
‘Some man attacked a girl. I really don’t know the full story, and I don’t know why Gabrielle should be scared, but if she was, I have an idea where she might have gone. I bought a place in Antibes recently, and I took her down there to look at it and help me furnish it. If for whatever reason she’s taken fright, she may well have gone there.’
‘Leo, I want to call the police. Daniel doesn’t know about any of this – that no one’s seen or heard from her in two days – and I have to tell him.’
‘Will you give me a few hours, Jackie? Because if there was a reason why she was afraid of the police, it might not be a good idea to call them just yet.’
‘But what if you go to France and she isn’t there? Then we’ve wasted time!’
Leo tapped again at the keyboard. ‘I’ve been looking up flights to Nice, and there’s one in three hours. If I catch that, I’ll be down there by eleven, with the time difference. It’s only a fifteen-minute drive to Antibes. I’ll ring you as soon as I get to the apartment. If she isn’t there, then you can call the police. OK?’
There was a brief silence. ‘All right. If you really think that’s where she’s gone—’
‘I do. I could be wrong, but if I am, we’ll know in a matter of hours. OK?’
He had been making the booking as he spoke, and when she rang off he completed it, checked in, and printed off the boarding card. He glanced at his watch. It was half five now, and his car was parked at the end of King’s Bench Walk. Driving to Gatwick should take no more than an hour and a half, rush hour traffic permitting, which would be about right. He closed his laptop, tidied away his papers, put on his jacket and overcoat, and hurried down to the clerks’ room.
‘Felicity, I need you to cancel tomorrow morning’s ten o’clock con with Peter Jago and rearrange it
for later this week. Apologise to him, tell him I’ll buy him a drink. Then – and I need you to listen carefully – I want you to go onto a car rental website and book a hire car that I can pick up at Nice airport at eleven o’clock tonight. Any car, don’t worry about the cost, just get me one. Then find me a room in a hotel in Antibes, and text me the name and location. In return, I shall take you out to lunch. I may not be back in the office till Wednesday morning.’
Hurrying out, Leo almost collided with Henry in the doorway, and flung him a hasty apology.
‘What’s his hurry?’ asked Henry.
‘Don’t ask me,’ replied Felicity. ‘All I know is he’s catching a flight to Nice in a couple of hours, and I’ve got to book him a hire car and a hotel room for the night.’
‘Man of mystery.’ Henry shook his head. He glanced at an oblong cardboard box lying on Felicity’s desk. ‘Looks exciting.’
‘Not that thrilling. It’s my new set-top box. Only trouble is, I’m worried I won’t be able to set it up. The bloke said it was dead simple, but I’ve read through the instructions, and I can’t work it out. Not very good with gadgets.’
Henry examined the box. ‘I can sort it out for you, if you like.’
‘Oh, would you, Henry? That would be brilliant.’
‘Can do it this evening, if you’re not busy. I’ve just got to pop round to Cheryl’s first.’ He tried to look matter-of-fact as he said this, but in reality the brief visit to Cheryl’s would be momentous, involving as it did the return of the power drill her father had lent him, and the acknowledgement that the relationship between them had come to an end. It had begun to founder during the holiday with Cheryl and her family. He should have realised at the time that it was a mistake, but at least he had realised before it was too late that Cheryl was one thing, but Cheryl together with her family – well, that was quite another. And since Cheryl was looking for a husband, what was the point of wasting her time, or his? The pang he felt was more for the failure of romance, rather than the loss of Cheryl herself.