by Sue Horsford
I sighed. “It wasn’t shopping on Saturday that I objected to. I just didn’t fancy coming to Liverpool with the weekend crowds. I went with Steph to the outlet village.”
“Hmm,” she said, clearly unimpressed. “And did you buy yourself any jewelry?”
I hadn’t. I didn’t tend to wear jewelry, apart from my wedding and engagement rings.
“Only that top is very plain without a necklace.”
“Okay, I’ll have a look.”
I was humoring her, really, but in the jewelry department, my eye was caught by a heavy gold torque necklace. Gabriel had said he could picture me bare-breasted with Celtic jewelry, and I couldn’t get much more Celtic than this. If I bought it, I’d be showing him I cared for his opinion.
I checked the price tag. It wasn’t cheap, but it was beautiful. Would he remember what he’d said to me? Would he interpret it as a sign of encouragement? Did I want to encourage him? Every sensible nerve in my body screamed no.
“What do you think of this?” I asked my mother, bracing myself for her criticism.
“It’s very striking,” she said. “Try it on.”
I put it on. It lay heavy and cold against my neck, like a slave collar, and I knew I was going to buy it whatever she said.
“Yes, it suits you,” she said.
I paid for it and told the assistant not to wrap it. I’d wear it now.
“Right, come on. Let’s go and have lunch,” I said. “Where do you fancy?”
“Do they still have that little café near the station where the waitresses wear proper uniforms?”
“Yes, I think so.”
“Well, we’ll go there, then. I can’t bear having to queue for food.”
We left John Lewis and walked up the hill toward the café. I was just about to ask her if she wanted to do something after lunch, when a man’s voice called out, “Faye!”
I turned in the direction of the voice and, to my horror, saw Gabriel waving and smiling.
“Who’s that?” asked my mother, who still had an eye for a good-looking man.
I groaned inwardly.
He came over to us and I introduced him. “Gabriel, this is my mother, Margaret. Mum, this is Gabriel.”
Gabriel held out his hand to my mother. “It’s very nice to meet you,” he said.
“Gabriel is Ginny’s boyfriend,” I said. Boyfriend didn’t seem the right word to use to describe Gabriel, but I couldn’t very well introduce him as Ginny’s lover. My mother would have a fit.
Her eyes widened. “Ohhh. Well, I’m sorry, Gabriel, but no one has bothered to tell me about you.” She gave me a look.
“We haven’t been seeing each other for very long,” he said.
“Anyway, we don’t want to keep you,” I said. “We’re just on our way to get some lunch.”
“Well, I’ve finished my shopping. I only came over for paint and canvasses.” He held up a carrier bag bearing the name of a nearby art supplies shop. “I was thinking of going for lunch myself. Would you two ladies care to join me? My treat, of course.”
“Well, actually…” I started to say.
“That would be lovely,” said my mother, giving him her best gracious smile. “We were going to go to the place where the waitresses wear proper uniforms.”
“I know the place,” said Gabriel, offering her his arm.
Five minutes later, we were sitting at a table upstairs by the window and a young girl in a black dress and white apron was taking our order. She kept peeping at Gabriel from underneath her false lashes. He might have been old enough to be her father, but he was still, without a doubt, the most handsome man in the room. He flirted lightly with her, favoring her with his most dazzling smile but, observing his easy charm, it was obvious that there was a massive difference between his natural flirtatiousness and the way he was with me.
My mother went off to the ladies’ room, and I unbuttoned my jacket, noticing how Gabriel’s eyes widened as he caught sight of my necklace.
“A torque,” he said. “Very Celtic. It suits you. I knew it would.”
“Thank you. I just bought it before.”
“Really?” He fixed me with his most penetrating stare and scrutinized my face, as if he was searching for something.
I stared back, but his expression was so intense I lowered my eyes and bowed my head as if in submission to him. I stared at an invisible spot on the white linen tablecloth, my heart thudding against my ribcage. What the hell was I doing? No one spoke and the silence hung between us, painful, never-ending, then I raised my gaze to his face. Our eyes connected in a silent understanding and he nodded as if something had just been agreed. I opened my mouth to speak but closed it again as my mother came back.
She slipped off her coat and sat down, seeming not to notice the atmosphere between us. “So, Gabriel, are you an artist, then?” she asked. She obviously wanted to impress him. She was using what Ginny and I called her ‘more tea, Vicar?’ voice.
“It’s more of a hobby, really,” Gabriel said. “I’m a photographer by trade.”
“Really? You know, I’ve always wanted professional photographs of my girls.”
“Mum!”
“Consider it done. Would you like them separately or together?”
“Separately,” I said quickly.
“Yes,” said my mother. “Poor Faye will only feel outshone by her sister.”
“Outshone?” said Gabriel, with every appearance of astonishment. “Margaret, you have two very beautiful daughters.”
“You think so, do you?”
“Oh, I know Ginny’s very pretty in an obvious sort of way, but Faye’s also very beautiful, don’t you think?” He smiled at her.
“Hmm,” said my mother, regarding him with what looked like suspicion. “You’re definitely an improvement on the poor saps Ginny usually goes out with. Ah, here’s our lunch.”
After we’d eaten and the waitress had shyly brought the bill to Gabriel, I tried to give him something toward it, but he refused.
“Absolutely not. Put your money away.”
He spoke in such a commanding tone that my mother simpered, “You do like to be in control, don’t you, Gabriel?”
“I do,” he admitted with a glance in my direction.
“My husband was the same. Always had to be the one in charge and people always did what he told them. Mind you, Ginny could twist him round her little finger. Does she do the same to you?”
“She tries.”
“But you don’t give in to her? Well, good for you. It did annoy me that Nicholas used to give in to her all the time. It didn’t matter how naughty she was. One look from those big blue eyes and he’d forgive her anything.”
“And what about Faye?” Gabriel asked, his eyes alight with mischief. “Was she a naughty girl?”
My cheeks flamed with embarrassment.
“Defiance was always her problem,” said my mother. “Always thought she knew best. Wouldn’t listen to anyone else.”
“Hmm,” said Gabriel, giving me a thoughtful stare that made me fidget in my seat.
My mother was on her favorite subject. “She was never able to get round Nicholas, though, not like Ginny could. Faye didn’t have the same sort of relationship with her father.”
I bit my lip.
Gabriel said, “Well, that was his loss. Are we ready to go?”
As we walked out of the café behind my mother, he put his arm around my waist and whispered in my ear, “I mean it. It was his loss.”
The light but reassuring pressure of his hand comforted me and a warm glow spread through my body. I sighed. Unless I was very much mistaken, I was falling in love.
“Faye, are you with us today?” Steph asked me as we drank our morning coffee and went through the post. “Are you not feeling well?”
I was feeling fine. I just wasn’t in the mood for talking. I wanted to be left alone to drift off into my own little world of submissive fantasies.
I’d dressed today in o
ne of my new dresses, a black shift dress shot through with gold thread and I was wearing my torque. In my mind, it had now become a symbol of surrender to Gabriel and the feel of it around my neck was a constant source of erotic excitement. I knew I was wrong to think about him like this—he was Ginny’s boyfriend, after all. But they just didn’t seem suited somehow whereas he and I…
“I’m fine,” I said. “I’ll tell you later.” I’d decided I would have to tell her about my feelings for Gabriel. It was too much to keep to myself. Steph would be shocked, but she was my best friend. She’d understand.
I’d lain awake half the night thinking about what he’d said as we’d left the café. I compared it with what Paul had said when I’d told him about my childhood. Paul had said my dad was wrong for making it so obvious that he preferred Ginny, but he’d never said he was wrong for preferring her. No one had ever said that. Not until yesterday.
As Paul had lain snoring beside me, I’d wondered how it would feel to be able to tell Gabriel all about myself, to share my pain with him and have him take it away, to have him kiss the tears from my cheeks, and I ached for him in a way I couldn’t remember ever aching for anyone before.
“What the hell?” Steph held a card in her hand, frowning.
“What is it?”
She handed it to me. It was a sympathy card. The message on the front said, ‘So sorry for the loss of your dearest friend.’ The inside was blank.
“Has it come to the wrong address?” I asked.
Steph shook her head. “‘To the ladies at the Lighthouse Center,’ she read from the front of the envelope. “Local postmark. Do you think someone is having a laugh?”
“It’s not very funny,” I said. “A bit creepy, really.”
Steph tore it in two and threw it in the bin. “Typical piece of head-working. Well, I’m not playing. Just forget about it.”
That wasn’t hard to do. Now, where was I? Oh, yes, falling in love with Gabriel.
“Call for you, Faye.” Lisa held the receiver out to me gingerly in case she smudged her newly painted nails.
I reached across the desk and took it from her carefully, shaking my head at her and smiling. She wouldn’t dare do her nails at work if Kay was here.
“Hello.”
“Mrs. Austin?”
“Yes.”
“Hi, it’s Mike from A&M Insurance. Your husband asked us to give you a call?”
Was he asking me or telling me? And what was he on about? Paul would never ask an insurance company to call me at work. For one thing, he knew I was hopeless with anything like that and for another, Paul’s brother, Matt, was a financial advisor, so we never made any financial decisions without consulting him first.
“What about?” I asked.
“He said you were interested in our personal accident cover? Do you have time for me to go into the details now?”
“Personal accident cover?”
“Yes, he said you’d discussed it already and you’d said you particularly needed accident cover?”
“I’m sorry, I think you’ve made a mistake. I have all the insurance I need.”
“Are you sure, Mrs. Austin? Your husband did say—”
“I don’t know who you spoke to, but I really don’t think it was my husband,” I said.
“Oh, I see. Well, I’m sorry to have troubled you, then.”
I put the phone down and dialed one-four-seven-one, but it was a withheld number. I gave Paul a quick call just to make sure but, as I thought, it was nothing to do with him.
“Must have been a cold-caller,” he said.
Really? Maybe it was just paranoia, but for some reason I thought of Andrew. I mean, personal accident cover? Not the subtlest of threats. I wondered how he’d found out my surname. Barbara only knew me as Faye. I was almost certain I’d never given her my surname. Why would I?
I told Steph straight away.
She looked dubious. “Are you sure it wasn’t just a cold call?”
“At work? That’s not how cold-callers operate. They get your name and number off some database and ring you at home. How would they know the names of any of the employees here? And what was all that about my husband asking him to call and me particularly needing accident cover? Why would I need accident cover? Am I about to have an accident?”
“Well, yes, that does sound a bit weird, but still, it doesn’t mean it was anything to do with Barbara’s husband. I mean, we must have upset loads of men over the years. It could be anyone.”
I shrugged. I knew what she was saying, but I was positive Andrew was behind it. Barbara was the only woman who was working exclusively with me and I’d been working with her for long enough to know Andrew’s modus operandi. Head-working was his specialty.
A thought struck me. “He sent that card too.”
Steph frowned. “Do you want to call the police?”
“And tell them what? They’ll think I’m putting two and two together and making five. Maybe I am. And besides, we don’t know anything about Andrew except he’s married to Barbara. Doesn’t give them much to go on, does it?”
“I don’t know what to suggest, then,” she said. “Are you okay? Do you want to go home? I can ask Kate if she’ll stay for the late night if you want.”
“No, it’s okay, I don’t scare that easily. It just bothers me that he knows my surname. It makes me wonder what else he knows about me.”
I tried to put it out of my mind but I couldn’t quite shake a nagging feeling of unease.
“You haven’t touched your sandwich,” said Steph. “You should’ve gone home at five like I said.”
I shook my head. “I’m just not hungry. I’ve got too much on my mind.”
“Try not to dwell on it. He’s just a coward and a tosser.”
“It’s not that,” I said. “There’s something else I need to tell you.” I stopped. Was this a good idea?
“What? Is everything okay?”
I opened my mouth to speak but I didn’t know where to start.
“Faye, there’s nothing you can’t tell me. I’m your best mate. Whatever it is, I can handle it.”
“I think I’m in love with another man.” It seemed easier to get the words out in a rush.
Steph looked stunned. “What the fuck?”
“You said you could handle anything,” I said with a nervous laugh.
“But…Paul,” she said, “I always thought you two were so happy. You’re the perfect couple.”
“It’s not about Paul,” I said. I didn’t want to think about Paul right now. “And I’m not about to leave him.”
“And yet you’ve cheated on him.”
“No. I haven’t done anything, not yet, anyway.”
“Well, thank God for that at least. This guy, does he feel the same way about you?”
“He’s not in love with me.”
Steph sighed. “So what you’re really saying is, you have a crush on someone.”
“It’s more than a crush.”
“So who is this guy? Anyone I know?”
“It’s Gabriel.”
“Gabriel?” She frowned. “You mean the guy your husband’s working for? The guy who’s fucking your sister?” Steph was staring at me as if she’d never seen me properly before and wanted to know what she’d missed. “So all this”—she waved a hand at me—“this new image, it’s all for his benefit so you can lure him away from Ginny?”
“It’s not like that,” I said. “I’ve tried to avoid this happening.” I sighed. What more could I say? I searched her face for a single shred of empathy, some sign that she understood what I was going through, but her expression was stony. “I just needed to tell someone. I thought you might understand.” Tears came into my eyes and I turned away so Steph wouldn’t see.
“Oh, you silly cow!” She jumped up and came over to sit by me. “I do understand. You’ve been married for ten years, it’s all gone a bit samey and now you’ve met an attractive man who excites you. And that’s fine if
all you’re going to do is fantasize about him. But you have to accept that’s all it can ever be.” She hugged me hard. “You do accept that, don’t you?”
I said nothing.
“You said it’s not mutual, anyway.”
“I didn’t say that. I said he’s not in love with me. But he is attracted to me. He’s made that very clear.”
“What a creep!” Steph’s lip curled in disgust. “I’m sorry, but if Ginny was my sister, I’d let her know her boyfriend was making a move on me and tell her to get rid of him. I can’t believe you haven’t done that. You’ve always said how protective you feel toward Ginny.”
“Well, maybe I’m sick of it always being one-sided. When does Ginny ever put me first?”
Steph didn’t answer, her dislike of Ginny no doubt warring with her sense of what was right.
“I’ll tell you, shall I?” I continued, on a roll now. “Never. I can’t remember one single time that she’s put my needs before her own. She’s always been Daddy’s little princess and I’m like some sort of faithful fucking retainer!” I knew I was making excuses, but it was still true. I’d always looked out for her, especially after Dad died, and she’s never repaid the favor. It was always about Ginny. It always had been.
Steph changed tack. “Well, what about Paul, then? Do you know, sometimes when I’m home alone watching telly with my sad little microwave meal for one and only a smelly old cat for company, I think of you and Paul and I’m so jealous. Don’t risk losing something real for a bit of a cheap thrill, Faye.”
The doorbell rang just then and Steph went to answer it, leaving me alone with my thoughts.
She was right. What the hell did I think I was doing? Paul wasn’t perfect, but he was my real life and Gabriel was just a fantasy, so why couldn’t I do the right thing and just forget about Gabriel?
Steph was with the client for over an hour, and by the time she came back, it was time to start locking up.
“You okay, hon?” she asked me.
“Yeah, I’m okay. Thanks for listening.”
She gave me a wry smile. “Sorry for giving you a hard time. It’s only because I care. Just promise me a couple of things. Think really, really carefully before you do anything you can’t take back. Even if Paul never finds out, cheating on him will change your relationship. And please, don’t ever use me as an alibi. I’ll keep your little secret, but I’m not going to lie for you.”