Gabe’s initial reaction didn’t do him any credit. He was annoyed, and upset with Quinn’s decision to extend her visit. This trip should have taken a few days, but she’d already been in Louisiana for nearly a fortnight, and would be staying for another fortnight to complete her research and the filming for the program. Gabe wanted her back. He was being selfish; he’d realized that after a night out with Pete and a conversation with his mother, who always put things in perspective, offering him a surprisingly unbiased point of view. She never took his side simply because he was her son. She just gave him her honest opinion, as did Pete, whose take on things had evolved over the course of his twenty year marriage to Brenda. So, perhaps, it was really Brenda’s opinion that Gabe was hearing, but it didn’t matter. All three of them were right.
“Don’t you think you’re being a bit unreasonable?” Pete McGann had asked him over a pint at their favorite pub. “This is important to her. After all these years, Quinn can finally put a name and a face to the people who brought her into this world. She’s an archeologist, a historian; she needs to know her own story above all else.”
“That’s a very astute observation, Pete,” Gabe had conceded, “and I completely understand Quinn’s need to discover something of where she comes from, but I would just feel better if I were there with her.”
“She’s a big girl.”
“She’s a big girl who loves taking unnecessary risks.” Gabe hadn’t told Pete about Quinn’s run-in with Robert Chatham at his Edinburgh hotel. Her lack of judgment on that particular occasion still rankled him, and frightened him as well. Quinn had managed to get away from Chatham, but things could have easily gone the other way. She could have been badly hurt, both emotionally and physically, and the repercussions would have been even more severe had Robert Chatham turned out to be her biological father. That scenario didn’t bear thinking about, especially since Quinn’s unplanned pregnancy was a direct result of that encounter and their subsequent row. Gabe still felt a pang of remorse when he recalled that night, and his own carelessness the following morning, but he couldn’t feel regret about the baby. His heart fluttered with joy every time he thought of ‘the little bean’ and he couldn’t wait to hold the child in his arms and finally see its sweet face.
Pete had looked at Gabe and burst out laughing. “I’ve known you since uni, mate, and I’ve never seen you like this. You are like the proverbial caveman who wants to drag his woman by the hair into his cave.”
Gabe had set down his mug and stared at Pete. Did he really come off as some testosterone-driven Neanderthal? “I’m just feeling a bit overprotective. She’s alone and pregnant, Pete, in a place where she knows no one.”
“Except her biological father and brother. Sounds to me like they’re getting on like a house on fire. Give her a chance to get to know her kin. Don’t make this about yourself.”
Am I making this about myself? Gabe had wondered as he headed home that night. Emma was already in bed, tucked in by Pete’s wife Brenda, who’d volunteered to babysit so the boys could have a night out. Gabe missed his friend. He’d been busy with his growing family and Pete hadn’t been around much of late due to his own family issues. Everything had finally resolved itself, but the tensions of the past few months lingered. Pete and Brenda’s relationship with their son, who’d been accused of sexually assaulting a girl but had finally been cleared of all charges, was still strained. They’d questioned Michael and didn’t immediately accept his version of events, and their lack of faith had cleaved an almost unbreachable chasm in their family. They had a long way to go until they could reclaim the easy and loving relationship they’d had with Michael, but hopefully, in time, he would see that his parents had had no choice but to question his story and try to get to the truth. Pete and Brenda would have still supported Michael, no matter what, but he was too young and vulnerable to see that.
“Pete’s waiting in the car. Thank you for minding Emma.”
“Oh, it was my pleasure. How I wish we’d had a girl. She’s so lovely. Anyway, give my best to Quinn. When is she back?”
“Soon, I hope.”
Gabe had seen Brenda out and settled on the sofa, remote control in hand, but couldn’t focus on any program. He looked at his watch. His dad would probably be in bed by now, but Phoebe liked to stay up and read by the fireplace in the library with Buster at her feet until she felt tired enough to retire. Gabe didn’t want to ring the house phone for fear of waking his father, but gave Phoebe’s mobile a try. She usually kept it in her handbag, but hopefully, she’d hear it.
Phoebe had answered on the second ring. “Hello, son.”
“Hi, Mum. I didn’t wake you, did I?”
Phoebe chuckled. “Of course not. Your father is snoring away, but I’m hooked on this new series of novels. It’s rather titillating.”
“Mum, I don’t want to know,” Gabe replied. The last time his mother had told him about a book she was reading, he’d actually felt himself blush, which had made his mother giggle like a school girl. His mum had a penchant for racy novels and had recently learned the meaning of S&M. Until then, she’d thought it was just someone referring to Marks & Spencer in the wrong order.
“What’s on your mind, Gabe?”
“How do you know I didn’t simply call to see how you are?”
“Because I am your mother and I know all the cadences of your voice. You sound in need of advice.”
“Guilty as charged,” Gabe had admitted, smiling. No one in this world knew him like his mum, not even Quinn.
“Out with it then.”
“Mum, Pete has accused me of carrying on like some medieval overlord who wants to lock his lady in a tower to keep her from getting away from him. Am I out of line?”
Gabe could almost hear his mother settling more comfortably in her chair, ready for a meaningful talk.
“Darling, the woman you love, and who is carrying your child, is going through something very emotional and existentially defining. You are worried about her, and feel helpless because you’re not there to support her. Now, does that sound like the reasoning of a medieval overlord?”
“No, I suppose not.”
“You are a sensitive man, and given all the emotional upheaval of the past few months, you’re feeling protective of Quinn. That’s nothing to feel ashamed of. Sometimes I wish your father would have been more protective and supportive of me. You know what he said when I went into labor with you?”
“Can’t wait to find out.”
“He said, ‘Get on with it, old girl. I’ll be at the pub.’”
“Did he really?” Gabe had asked, laughing. Knowing his dad, he wouldn’t have expected him to say anything else, but it was still shocking to hear.
“He did, but things were different in my day. We all had our roles. Your generation is more in tune with each other’s needs and feelings, and that’s a wonderful thing. Quinn is an intelligent, independent woman, but that doesn’t mean she wouldn’t appreciate your support. Just because she doesn’t need it doesn’t mean she doesn’t long for it.”
“Are you saying I shouldn’t have let her go on her own?”
“I’m saying she wouldn’t be too upset if you showed up in New Orleans and shared this experience with her. Meet her father and brother, get to know them. I’m sure she’s feeling a bit out of her element there. Bring her some digestive biscuits.”
Gabe burst out laughing. “Thanks, Mum. I don’t think Quinn is in need of biscuits, but you’re right about her feeling out of her element. Would you be able to take Emma for a few days if I manage to clear my schedule at work?”
“Of course. We’d love to have her. In fact, there are some wedding plans she can assist me with. I need the perspective of a young person.”
“Mum, she’s four. What does she know about weddings?”
“She knows what she likes, that one. And she has a keen eye.”
“If it were up to Emma, we’d all be dressed like the characters from Cinderella
.”
“Actually, you and Quinn probably resemble Aladdin and Princess Jasmine more, but I promise you, there’ll be no magic carpets or mischievous monkeys. You just leave it to me and my granddaughter.”
“Suddenly, I’m very worried,” Gabe had joked.
“Worry about your bride; I’ll take care of the rest.”
“Thank you, Mum. I’ll call you tomorrow and let you know for certain.”
“Then I won’t tell your father until then. I’d hate to tell him Emma is coming and then have to disappoint him.”
“Goodnight, Mum.”
“Goodnight, son.”
Gabe had hung up, feeling infinitely better. He was going to New Orleans, and that was the end of it.
Chapter 15
Gabe bent down to retrieve his briefcase from beneath his desk and stood up to find Monica Fielding leaning against the door jamb of his office, studying him with her head to one side as if he were a particularly interesting specimen. She was holding a steaming cup of tea and seemed eager for a chat.
“I hear we are losing you,” Monica said, advancing into the office without being invited.
“Only for a short while.” Gabe patted his pockets in search of his mobile and keys. He hoped Monica would take the hint and leave, but she inched deeper into the room, heading for the chair facing Gabe’s desk.
“You are right to go, of course,” Monica continued as she perched on the edge of the chair and took a dainty sip of her tea. “Eight years is not something you can just erase, is it? I’d be worried too.”
Monica rearranged her face into an expression of false sympathy as she waited for him to respond, but Gabe saw the eagerness in her eyes. . He felt as if he’d missed some integral part of the conversation.
“Sorry, I don’t follow,” he said, his keys momentarily forgotten.
“Didn’t your bride run off to the States?” Monica asked, all innocence.
“Quinn went to New Orleans on some personal business. What are you getting at, Monica?” Gabe had never really had an issue with Monica before, but her treatment of Quinn had forced him to reconsider his attitude toward her. She really was a shrew, but he was stuck with her, since she was a long-standing member of his staff and he had no problems with her performance. It was her personality that could use some improvement.
“Oh, it’s personal business all right.” Monica took another sip of tea, her eyes fixed on Gabe over the rim of her mug.
Gabe placed his hands on the desk, leaning toward Monica in a way he hoped was intimidating. “Spit it out, Fielding,” he said, his voice low and commanding. He was tired of this game, especially since Monica seemed to be enjoying it so thoroughly.
She exhaled dramatically, and leaned back. “I guess you haven’t heard the gossip.”
“I make it a point not to listen to gossip,” Gabe countered, but in this instance he was willing to make an exception, since it clearly had something to do with his personal life.
“Luke and his lady love are no longer. Seems that American tartlet left him for a footballer or some such. I never thought they would last, and I told him so,” Monica went on. “He is too mature for her, too intelligent. She was nothing more than a passing fancy. Young, beautiful, uninhibited. Who wouldn’t want a piece of that?” She smiled guilelessly at Gabe. “She turned his head, but it was Quinn he always loved. He just seemed to forget it for a little while.”
“Quinn’s moved on,” Gabe replied.
“But Luke hasn’t. I spoke to him yesterday, and he was very interested to learn that Quinn is in the States. He realizes what a fool he’s been, and I think he means to win her back.” Monica couldn’t keep the grin off her face. This was the kind of thing she lived for.
“Don’t you need to get home?”
“Mark’s away on a business trip, so I’m not in a rush.”
“Really?” Gabe asked, matching her innocent tone. “I could have sworn I saw him by the Wesley Euston Hotel last night. With a woman. A colleague, no doubt.”
Monica paled and sprang to her feet. “Mark’s in Liverpool. He left two days ago.”
“My mistake then,” Gabe replied smoothly and reached for his coat. “Goodnight, Monica. Have a pleasant evening.”
Monica walked out without replying, her back ramrod straight and her head held high. Gabe hadn’t actually seen Mark, but rumors were rampant among the faculty. Archeologists liked digging up dirt on each other almost as much as they liked digging up the past. Perhaps even more. Monica’s marriage wasn’t as secure as she liked to believe. Mark might not have been at a London hotel last night, but he had been somewhere, and he probably hadn’t been there alone.
Gabe shut the office door and walked out of the building. He wasn’t proud of himself for stooping to Monica’s level. He’d made that comment just to hurt her, but she’d hit a nerve and he’d reacted without thinking. Gabe had loved Quinn for years, but she had been devoted to Luke and planned to spend her life with him. Luke had walked out on her without a backward glance and accepted a teaching position in Massachusetts to be with his new American girlfriend, who’d been one of his students at the institute. Gabe needed to believe that Quinn hadn’t come to him on the rebound and that she’d accepted his marriage proposal because her feelings for him were genuine and not just as a petty response to Luke’s betrayal.
As he strode along the street, his anger mounting, Gabe wondered if it was possible she’d used him as an instrument of revenge. He shook his head to chase away the dark thoughts. He was sure of Quinn’s love, but Monica had managed to stoke his insecurities, exactly as she’d hoped she would. Monica hated Quinn, and would like nothing better than to cause trouble for her in any way she could. She’d attempted to discredit Quinn as a historian, but failed, so now she was going after her personal life, using Gabe as her tool.
He stopped walking as he caught sight of himself in a storefront window. He looked angry and bitter. Monica’s insinuations had shaken him to the core because no other woman had ever made him feel as vulnerable as Quinn did, but no other woman had ever made him as happy. He would be lost and broken without her, and the magnitude of that realization left him reeling and helpless.
Snap out of it, you eejit, Gabe berated himself with disgust. If you have no faith in Quinn then you deserve to be kicked to the curb. He let out a slow breath and counted to ten, letting go of his anger and insecurity. He would be with Quinn tomorrow, and he couldn’t wait.
Chapter 16
Gabe glanced at his watch and quickened his pace. He was running late. He normally collected Emma from the nursery school around five, but it was close to six, and she would be cross with him. She couldn’t tell time yet, but knew exactly when to expect him based on the order the other children got picked up in. Most parents arrived at exactly the same time, so Emma knew when it was her turn and packed her belongings in anticipation.
Gabe cursed himself for an irresponsible fool when he saw Emma’s nose pressed to the nursery school’s window, her expression like a sad-face emoji. She always waved, but today she just stared at him through the glass, her gaze full of accusation.
“Darling, I’m sorry. I got held up at work,” Gabe tried to explain as they left the building. Emma wore her Disney Princesses backpack that matched her pink coat. She threw him a look of pure disdain.
“I was the last one there,” she said. “I thought you wouldn’t come.”
“Why would you think that?” Gabe had never given Emma any reason to doubt him. This was the first time he’d been late, and all thanks to the conversation with Monica, which he should have avoided like the Black Death.
“My mum was supposed to come, but she didn’t,” Emma replied, her voice turning tearful.
“Sweetheart, Mum was in a terrible accident. She would have come otherwise. You know that.”
“You could be in an accident,” Emma pointed out, making Gabe feel even worse. She was too young to think such morbid thoughts, but life had dealt her a terrible
blow, and now she would always worry when someone failed to show up on time, fearing they might be dead.
“Emma, I got delayed at work,” Gabe explained patiently. “But I’m here now. What would you like for tea?” he asked to change the subject.
“Can you make me chips and egg?”
“I can manage the egg, but we’ll have to get take-away chips. I’m not that talented.”
“Quinn makes good chips.”
“I know. She’ll be back soon.”
“Let’s go get her,” Emma suggested. “Is New Orleans close to Disney World? We can collect Quinn and go to the park together. Quinn would like that,” Emma said, giving Gabe her most winning smile.
“Only four years old, but already a ruthless negotiator,” Gabe said, smiling.
“What’s a negotiator?”
“Someone who gets what they want. Like you.”
“Are we going, then?” Emma asked, her earlier pique forgotten.
“Someday, sweetheart, but not next week.”
“You suck!”
“Pardon me?” Gabe gaped at her. She’d never said anything like that before and it came as a shock.
Emma instantly looked contrite. She was probably testing the waters to see how much she could get away with, and quickly realized that this kind of behavior wouldn’t get her far.
“You will never speak to me like that again. Is that understood?” Gabe sounded sterner than he’d intended, but he wouldn’t take this kind of guff from a four-year-old.
“Sorry, Daddy. I heard one of the teachers say it.”
“To whom? To a pupil?”
“No, she was on her mobile. She was laughing, so I thought it was a funny thing to say.”
“I’m going to have a word with your teacher,” Gabe said. Who knew what else the children overheard during the course of the day? Gabe was sure the use of mobile phones was prohibited during class hours, but clearly, the teachers were bringing their personal lives into the classroom. It was a losing battle, really. Most of his students kept their mobiles on during lectures, despite being asked to turn them off, and often texted, looked things up, and even watched videos during class. As much as Gabe enjoyed modern technology, he found the lack of respect difficult to deal with, as an educator and as a parent. He snuck a sidelong glance at Emma. It was just a matter of time before she asked for a phone. He’d seen several of her classmates proudly displaying theirs, making the others green with envy. Well, he’d try to hold off on that conversation as long as possible.
The Unforgiven (Echoes from the Past Book 3) Page 10