by Jill Mansell
‘An awful lot of an idiot of myself.’ In fact, actually admitting it out loud felt quite cathartic.
‘OK, but was it a Sunday afternoon?’
Sally nodded and gritted her teeth, cringing at the memory. The ridiculous thing was, she no longer even thought about Lola’s dad. The crush had died as quickly as it had sprung up, almost as if subconsciously she’d always known it would never turn into anything more. ‘Yes, it was a Sunday. Lola was working. You were off out somewhere.’
‘And you and Nick were standing over there, by the window.’ As he pointed, a glimmer of a smile appeared at the corners of Gabe’s mouth for the first time in what felt like months.
‘I suppose so. Yes.’ Admittedly she’d been slightly the worse for drink at the time but not so far gone that she couldn’t remember the way the winter sunlight had streamed through the window, lighting up the glints in Nick’s dark hair… oh! The penny dropped. ‘You were outside the flat!’ Her mouth fell open. ‘You were watching me make a prat of myself!’
‘I didn’t know you were making a prat of yourself. He had his arms around you.’
‘He was keeping me upright. And I don’t know if I ever mentioned this, but I’ve had a bit of a bad leg.’ Sally couldn’t believe what she was witnessing; before her very eyes Gabe was metamorphosing from the tetchy grump of the past few weeks back into the old sparkly-eyed human Gabe she’d missed so desperately since the evil twin had taken his place.
Chapter 51
‘I thought you were shagging him.’ Gabe’s whole face had changed, cleared. He was smiling now with what appeared to be relief.
Glad the misunderstanding had been cleared up but mystified by the relief, Sally said, ‘Is that why you’ve been so grumpy and weird?’
He hesitated, then nodded. ‘You could say that.’
‘All because you thought I was having a thing with Nick? Would Lola really have hated it that much?’
There was that old familiar smile again, as if he knew something she didn’t. Shaking his hair out of his eyes, Gabe said, ‘No idea.’
‘But that’s why you were so iffy?’
A longer pause this time. Much longer. Finally he raked his hair back with his fingers.
‘Actually, that wasn’t why I was… iffy. I just didn’t think you should be seeing him.’
‘You didn’t approve? Because of the age difference?’ Sally hazarded. Blimey, who’d have thought it? ‘But he’s only twelve years older than me.’
Gabe grinned, shook his head and looked… well, to be honest she wasn’t absolutely sure how he looked. If it had been anyone else she might have said embarrassed.
Finally he took a deep breath. ‘OK, I can’t quite believe I’m standing here saying this, but the reason I wasn’t happy about it—’
‘Not happy about it? Ha, that’s an understatement!’
‘Don’t interrupt,’ Gabe ordered. ‘Let me get this out before I lose my nerve. The reason I was bloody furious about it was because I was… I was…’
Encouragingly Sally said, ‘Spit it out.’
‘Oh, for crying out loud, it was because I was jealous.’ He threw both hands up in the air. ‘There. Said it. Now you know.’
Sally stopped dead in her tracks. Surely not, surely not…
Gabe shrugged. ‘Sorry.’
‘Oh my God. Gabe! That explains so much,’ Sally blurted out. ‘I even guessed! I asked Lola and she said I was wrong, but I knew, right from the word go!’
‘You did?’ It was Gabe’s turn to look stunned.
‘I knew before I even met you.’
‘What?’
‘The whole tidiness thing.’ She was triumphant. ‘Dead giveaway. Keeping everything neat and always nagging me to clear up my stuff. All that hassle about not leaving my plates on the carpet. Forever complaining when I forget to hang up the towels in the bathroom. It’s so obvious.’
‘You really think I’m gay?’
Flummoxed, Sally said, ‘Isn’t that what you’re telling me?’
‘No.’ Gabe clutched his head, looking as if he was on the brink of tearing his hair out. His eyes, wide with disbelief, fixed on hers. The next moment he reached out and grabbed her. Before Sally knew what was happening, she was being kissed. His warm mouth covered hers, her whole body was pressed against Gabe’s, her skin was zinging like a bit of bubbly and… cut.
Just as abruptly as it had begun, the kiss ended. Gabe let her go and she was left standing there like a cartoon character, dazed and panting and with confusion in the form of giant question marks exploding out of her head.
‘I can’t believe you thought I was gay.’ Gabe was breathing heavily too.
‘But…’
‘Oh shit, this is all going wrong. I thought I could do it but I can’t.’
Before she could react, he was gone. The door of the flat slammed shut behind him and Sally heard his footsteps clattering down the staircase. She sank down onto the sofa and clutched her hands tightly together to stop them trembling. Her palms were damp too; desperate though she was for a glug of Pernod she knew the glass would slip through her fingers and crash to the floor.
OK, concentrate. Gabe had jumped to the wrong conclusion. And so had she. He wasn’t gay, she was certainly convinced of that now. And if he wasn’t jealous at the thought of Nick being involved with someone else, then it stood to reason that he had to be jealous at the thought of her seeing another man…
Shaking now, Sally replayed the incredible thought in her mind. But how could this be happening, exploding like a bomb in front of her with no warning at all?
And why was she feeling, amongst all the confusion and disbelief, as if it was something she’d been longing to happen for months?
But so secretly that she’d barely even acknowledged it, because it was simply the most unlikely scenario on the planet.
Sally wrapped her arms around her waist, rocking back and forth in order to think more clearly. Had she, deep down, been seriously attracted to Gabe since the first time she’d clapped eyes on him?
Yes.
Had she ever considered doing anything about it?
No.
Never.
Because it was like fancying George Clooney from afar. Millions of women did; it was an absolutely harmless pastime. But they also knew that if they happened to bump into George Clooney, the chances were that he probably wouldn’t fancy the pants off them in return and pester them for a date.
And that was pretty much how it felt, inwardly acknowledging that Gabe was gorgeous and funny and pretty damn fanciable—if a bit over-zealous in the tidiness department.
However—and it was a big however—you didn’t expect for a millisecond that anything would ever come of it because you knew so categorically you weren’t Gabe’s type.
Stumbling awkwardly to her feet, Sally headed for the chair over which he’d flung his leather jacket. Her heart flip-flopping like a landed fish, she felt in the inside pocket and pulled out his keys. His wallet and phone were in there too. He wasn’t going to get far without them.
But she couldn’t bear to sit here waiting for Gabe to come back. She had to find him before he had time to change his mind about her. Limping across to the window and flinging it open, Sally leaned out and searched the street below.
It was one thirty in the morning and there was no one in Radley Road. How much of a start had he got on her? Lifting her head, she called out, ‘Gabe,’ as loud as she dared. Then, louder still, ‘Ga-aaaaaabe,’ like a lone wolf howling in the forest.
After a few seconds she heard a window being thrown open somewhere close by and a male voice bellow, ‘Shut the fuck up.’
But it was OK; it didn’t matter, because the voice didn’t belong to Gabe. (That would have spoiled the moment.) Sally reached for her wa
lking stick and hurried out of the flat. Where was Gabe? It was a cold night and all he was wearing was jeans and an old polo shirt. Clunk-step, clunk-step went the stick against the stairs, interspersed with the sound of her rapid breathing. Then halfway down the staircase she saw the outline of a figure in the shadows, a scruffily dressed figure with messy hair leaning against the far wall of the darkened hallway.
Sally abruptly stopped. Now that she’d found him she didn’t know what to say. ‘I heard the front door. I thought you’d left.’
Gabe shook his head. ‘I was going to. Then I realized I didn’t have my keys.’
‘Or your jacket. You’d have been cold.’
‘That too.’ The whites of his eyes gleamed in the darkness.
‘You could have stayed upstairs,’ said Sally.
‘I couldn’t. Too scared. I told you, I never expected to feel like this.’
‘Me neither.’
She saw him nod. ‘Bit of a shock?’
‘Quite a lot of a shock.’ Gathering her courage, Sally said, ‘But a nice one.’
He was watching her carefully. ‘Really?’
‘Really. I thought I drove you mad. That’s why I’ve been trying so hard to be tidier.’
This time she caught a flash of white teeth. ‘I thought you were doing it to impress Lola’s dad.’
Sally shook her head, wondering if he could hear the frantic thud-thud-thud of her heart from down there. ‘No, not him. You.’
‘I’m impressed.’
‘Well, don’t be. It’s not going to last.’ Sally felt it was only fair to warn him. ‘I gave it my best shot but the novelty’s wearing off.’ She paused. ‘Is that going to make a difference?’
‘I don’t know. Not if you’re moving up to Yorkshire.’
How could everything change so drastically in a matter of minutes?
‘I suppose I don’t have to move up to Yorkshire. Seeing as the main reason I was planning on doing it was to get away from the miserable old git I was sharing a flat with.’
Gabe stepped out of the shadows, came to stand at the foot of the staircase. He touched his chest. ‘Me?’
‘Yes, you.’ Feeling braver, Sally said, ‘Come here.’
He climbed the stairs separating them. This time she knew he was going to kiss her. What she hadn’t expected was for her trembling knees to give way, mid-kiss. Smiling broadly, Gabe gently lowered her onto the stairs and carried on kissing her. God, he was so good at it and his neck smelled so gorgeous, he was… whoops…
The walking stick she’d left propped against the banister toppled over and went clattering down the staircase. Sally squeaked, ‘Oh no!’ and attempted to muffle her laughter against Gabe’s shoulder.
Gabe whispered, ‘Don’t worry, he’s asleep.’
He wasn’t. The door to the ground floor flat was wrenched open and Mr Kowalski, his white hair standing up like a cockatiel, bent down and picked up the walking stick. He turned, in his green and white striped flannel pajamas, and eyed Sally and Gabe balefully.
‘You two! Vot arr you doing, huh? Making sex on ze stairs in ze mittle of ze night?’
‘Sorry, Mr Kowalski. Didn’t mean to wake you.’ Gabe grinned apologetically. ‘We weren’t… um, making sex on the stairs.’
‘Ha. Pretty close, if you ask me.’ Shaking his head, the old man skillfully threw the stick up to them, Gene Kelly style.
Equally skillfully Gabe caught it. ‘Thanks.’
‘Off, off you go! You make sex in your own beds and leave me to sleep in mine.’ Having gestured extravagantly at the ceiling he shuffled back into his flat muttering, ‘Too much noise, too much sex, tuh.’
Sally buried her face in Gabe’s chest.
‘Sounds good to me,’ Gabe murmured, standing and helping her to her feet.
By the time they reached the flat, Sally was light-headed with lust, dizzy with joy and minus her shoes. As Gabe lifted her into his arms to carry her through to the bedroom, his mobile burst into life.
He shook his head. ‘Don’t worry, just leave it.’
Fretfully, Sally said, ‘I hate not answering a phone.’
‘It’s not your phone.’
As well as ringing, the mobile was switched to vibrate. When Sally had taken it from his jacket pocket she’d left it, along with his keys, on the glass coffee table. Now it was buzzing and jiggling ever closer to the edge.
‘It’s going to fall, it’s going to fall off, I hate it when that happens.’ Sally flapped her free hand agitatedly and Gabe, still carrying her, veered back across the living room.
She scooped up the phone and answered it. ‘Yes?’
‘Oh hi, it’s Maurice, is Gabe there?’
‘Hi, Maurice.’ Sally knew this was one of Gabe’s fellow paps. ‘I’m afraid Gabe has his hands full at the moment. Can I give him a message?’
‘Right, sure. The thing is, I’m down in Brighton at the moment but I’ve just heard from a reliable source that George Clooney was spotted twenty minutes ago sneaking into a house in Notting Hill with a classy-looking redhead. Nobody else knows about it and I owe Gabe a favor so I thought he might like a chance at an exclusive. The address is 15 Carmel Villas.’
‘OK, got that.’ Sally’s heart sank; what rotten timing. ‘Thanks, Maurice, I’ll tell him. Bye.’
‘George Clooney?’ said Gabe, who had been listening in. ‘Mystery redhead? Notting Hill?’
‘Fifteen Carmel Villas.’ It was the perfect tip-off; Carmel Villas was less than a minute away on foot. When she’d been leaning out of the living room window just now yelling Gabe’s name, George might actually have heard her. He might even have been the one who’d yelled at her to shut the fuck up. No, surely not; George would never be that rude.
‘Put me down,’ said Sally. ‘You have to go.’
But Gabe was shaking his head, grinning that devil-may-care, easy-going grin she hadn’t seen for so long. ‘No I don’t.’
‘Gabe. You can’t miss a chance like this.’
‘Switch the phone off. Stop thinking about George Clooney.’ Kicking open the door to his immaculate bedroom, Gabe said, ‘Just this once, why don’t we let the man have his fun without being interrupted?’
He was about to lower her onto the crisp, spotless, geometrically aligned white duvet. Sally, her arms entwined around his neck, whispered, ‘I’m warning you, I’m going to make your bed awfully untidy.’
Gabe’s eyes softened as they sank down together. ‘I’m counting on it.’
Chapter 52
Sometimes you went away for a couple of days and it felt like a couple of days. Other times you went away for a couple of days and when you got back everything was different.
Lola felt as if she’d been away for a year.
‘What’s going on?’ She walked into Gabe’s flat and saw the look on Sally’s face. Total, total giveaway.
‘What?’ Sally half laughed in that way people do when they’re trying so hard to appear innocent.
‘Hey, you’re back!’ Gabe, emerging from the kitchen with a tea towel slung over one shoulder and a cold beer in his hand, said with delight, ‘Come here,’ and gave her a smacking kiss on the cheek.
Ha, confirmation if any was needed. He’d been like a bear with a sore brain for weeks. And now he was kissing her. What’s more, the atmosphere in the room was positively zingy.
‘We’ve missed you,’ Gabe went on cheerfully—and he definitely hadn’t been cheerful for weeks. ‘How did the book thing go?’
‘Great.’ Lola indicated the bag she was carrying, emblazoned with the name of the publishing company that had hosted the event. ‘They gave me lots of books. I was just asking Sal what’s going on.’
‘Hmm? In what way?’ Now it was Gabe’s turn to look innocent, like a six-year-old
being asked what had happened to the last Jaffa cake.
‘You and Sally,’ said Lola. She narrowed her eyes at the pair of them. ‘Shagging.’
‘Oh my God!’ Sally let out a shriek of disbelief. ‘How did you know? How can you tell?’
‘OK, three reasons. One,’ Lola counted on her fingers, ‘Gabe’s stopped being a miserable old git. Two, you look so sparkly there’s only one thing that can have caused that.’
‘Sparkly? Do I really?’ Sally rushed over to the mirror.
‘And three, I just bumped into Mr Kowalski on his way out to the paper shop. He happened to mention you’d been making sex on ze stairs.’
‘Oh bum!’ wailed Sally. ‘We wanted to tell you ourselves.’
‘If you hadn’t woken up poor Mr Kowalski, you could have.’
‘OK, but we weren’t actually doing it, not out there on the stairs. I just accidentally dropped my stick.’
Ha, not to mention her knickers! Lola was still struggling to take in the news, but in all honesty not as stunned as she could have been. It was one of those scenarios that was so bizarre it made sense, so wrong it was almost right. Hadn’t she wondered from the word go whether Sally and Gabe would be drawn to each other, if they found each other physically attractive but were so at loggerheads that they simply couldn’t bring themselves to admit it?
‘I know what you’re thinking,’ said Gabe. ‘But I’m crazy about her.’
‘She’ll drive you mad,’ said Lola.
‘Probably. OK, definitely.’ He slid an arm around Sally’s waist. ‘But she’s been doing that since the day she moved in. I’m used to it now.’
‘She’s never going to be tidy,’ Lola warned.
‘We’re going to hire a cleaner.’ Sally was glowing with happiness.
Gabe grinned. ‘Isn’t it great?’
What choice did she have? If it worked out, of course it was great. Lola knew she should be thrilled for them and on one level she was. But at the same time, and she was deeply ashamed to have to admit it even to herself, there was that niggling worry that the balance of the relationship between the three of them was about to tip. Before, the triangle had been more or less equal. Now it was changing shape, lengthening, drawing two of the points closer together and distancing the third. She was going to feel left out and unwanted and—oh God—lonely…