THE RELUCTANT BRIDE

by Joy Wodhams

  She opened the door of the shop. “Can I try that?”

  “It looks wonderful on you,” said the woman as Gabriella marvelled at her transformed image in the mirror. The jacket rounded and cinched in all the right places, the skirt, shorter and tighter than she normally wore, followed the curves of her legs and lengthened them. But most of all it was the colour. The light red brought a glow to her face, a sparkle to her green eyes and a gilding to her hair that made it difficult to recognise herself.

  “You don't think it looks too – too -?”

  “Oh no!” said the woman. “Of course, you'll need a new blouse.”

  When she walked into the salon with the five bags that contained her new wardrobe, Simon, her usual hairdresser, greeted her.

  “Morning, Miss Stevens. Trim?”

  “Not today. I'd like it restyled. Something less dull. What do you suggest?”

  She couldn't watch as he snipped at her shampooed locks and the pile of cuttings on the floor grew larger.

  “Don't worry,” he smiled when she risked a brief glance. “Nothing too dramatic, just a little layering.”

  She thought the cutting and blowdrying would never end, but at last he switched off the drier.” It's all right, Miss Stevens, you can open your eyes now.”

  She looked at her reflection and was speechless.

  “Amazing what a new style can do, isn't it?” Simon examined her with professional pride.

  Her head felt light. She touched the soft layers that felt and looked like silver thistledown.

  “Do you like it?”

  She croaked something, nodded vigorously.

  “Special occasion?”

  “I'm getting married!” she blurted.

  From the salon she returned to the boutique. “I wonder – the red suit, I'd like to wear it now. Could I change into it here?”

  Collecting on her way a couple of wolf whistles from across the car park and a startled glance from Amanda in Reception, she walked dreamily to her office.

  Jenny looked up as she entered. “Wow!” she gasped, eyes saucer-round. “Is this my boss?”

  Gabriella smiled sheepishly. “I thought it was time for a new image.”

  “It's sensational. Sue Langdon will have to look to her laurels. She'll be losing her place as Englands' number one pin-up!”

  Gabriella felt a small glow of satisfaction. Yes indeed! Although somehow today she couldn't regards Sue as a serious rival.”

  “Has Rod seen the new you?” Jenny asked.

  “Not yet.”

  “Then for goodness sake, go and show him.”

  Going down the corridor to Rod's office, feeling as if she were floating inches above the grey carpet rather than walking on it, Gabriella wondered if he would sense that her new image went deeper than the bright sit and new hairdo. Even if he didn't, she would derive great pleasure from showing him that she was no longer an also-ran in the glamour stakes. She remembered all too well his disparaging comments about her appearance on their first outing together. He would have to revise his opinion now. A smile curved her lips and she shook her head, enjoying the sensation of the light fluffy hair rising and falling about her face. Reaching the end of the corridor she swung through the door with an anticipation that raised her heartbeat considerably.

  She was pleased to see that Sue was not at her desk. Good. Now she would be able to surprise him. Quietly she opened the door of his office.

  He stood with his back to the window and he was not alone. Sue Langdon was in his arms. Across the top of her glowing copper head his eyes met Gabriella's with an expression she did not wait to analyse.

  In the cloakroom she stared bleakly at her reflection in the mirror. Cold water bathing had more or less restored her tear-blotched face to normal but nothing could hide the anguish that still darkened her eyes. She lowered her head, feeling a sudden wave of sickness. How could she have deceived herself that Rod might ever behave like a decent human being? He was as amoral as her father, and the fact that last night he had clearly found her desirable made not a scrap of difference. Rod used women solely for his own pleasure and they, poor silly fools, rushed to his flame like moths to have their wings burned.

  But she had known. All along she had known what sort of man he was and yet she had allowed a few kindnesses to deceive her that perhaps after all he was honourable and she had misjudged him. How could she have been so foolish? Because she wanted to believe. Because, despite herself, she was beginning to care for him.

  Well, never again. He had fooled her once but he wouldn't do it twice.

  “Rod's waiting in your office,” said Jenny when she got back. “You must have just missed each other.”

  If she turned tail and ran Jenny would think it strange. But oh, she didn't want to see him. She needed to tend her wounds, to grow another skin before she faced him again. She hesitated in the doorway, trying desperately to think of an excuse plausible enough to fool Jenny. In the end she went in.

  “Gabriella, you look incredible!” Rod's eyes revealed an admiration as warm as she could have wished. “I always knew you could be a stunner!”

  She stared back at him, unable to believe he could behave as if nothing had happened.

  “That suit, it's perfect. And your hair -” He came forward, a hand raised to caress the pale shining halo.

  A fierce anger came to her rescue, burying the hurt so that for the moment at least she was no longer aware of it. She lashed out at him, a blow so vicious that it sent a paralysing pain through her arm. “Don't touch me!” she hissed.

  He stepped back, startled.

  “You're not content with making love to Sue Langdon in your apartment, you have to do it in the office too!You're – you're absolutely despicable. You have no more morals than a tom cat!”

  She watched the shutters come down over his eyes, concealing any emotion he may have felt. For a moment her anger shifted, the dark misery that lay beneath rising to the surface again, and she waited, praying that he would give her some explanation for what she had seen. Not that anything he said could possibly excuse his behaviour.

  She waited in vain. He said nothing, fuelling her anger even more. “God, I hate you, Rod Nicholson. If you ever touch me again I'll – I'll -”

  “You'll what?” he asked, his face a cold mask. “Don't worry, Gabriella, I shan't touch you. Who'd want to?” He strode to the door, paused. “Just a small point,” he said, one sardonic eyebrow raised. “Do I take it that we're still engaged?”

  She glared at him. “Don't worry. You're not going to lose Englands now. I hope you find it's worth it.”

  “Oh, it'll be worth it. You don't think I'd have agreed to marry you for anything less?”

  Long after he had gone she saw him as if he were imprinted on the closed door. His eyes, narrowed and glittering. The mouth tightly compressed. The powerful body taut, expressing an anger as great as her own. And she fought a terrible sense of loss. But what exactly had she lost? Only a false image, a dream Rod who was merely the result of her wishful thinking. The real Rod, the sensual unprincipled philanderer, was still there, still alive and well, and in a few short weeks she was going to marry him.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  There was so much to do that weekend that she had little time to think about Rod. On Monday morning she would be taking her mother into hospital and there seemed to be dozens of last minute chores.

  Mrs Stevens wanted to have her hair styled and to buy new nightwear. Gabriella stored the portable wheelchair in the car boot on the Saturday and drove her into town. She spent several hours wheeling her between stores and waiting while she tried on and discarded one dressing gown after another and picked with discontent at nightdresses and slippers. Her mother was being uncharacteristically fussy. Gabriella suspected that with her operation only two days away she was having last minute nerves. Her mother denied it.

  “Darling, I'm not at all worried. In fact I'm quite looking forward to meeting all these new people and bein
g looked after in luxury.”

  “I'm glad. So what about this cream silk? See, there's a nightdress to match.”

  “All the same, I wish I was just a little younger. Having an operation at my age -”

  “Mum, you're only fifty. And the Sister told me they do hundreds of these operations. It's absolutely straightforward. You're not even under anaesthetic for very long, and you've never had any respiratory problems. Honestly, you've nothing to worry about.”

  “I told you, dear, I'm not in the least worried. Now, what about my hair? I love the way Simon has cut yours, Gabriella. I suppose it's a little too young for me?”

  “Let's go and see him. If you give him a free hand I'm sure you'll be pleased with the result.”

  To Gabriella's relief the lunchtime rush had eased by the time they left the salon and she managed to find a cafe where she could manoeuvre her mother's chair to a suitable table.

  “That man over there is staring at you,” said Mrs Stevens when at last they had settled themselves and their packages into a corner. “But then, you look so pretty nowadays I'm not at all surprised. Rod is so good for you, dear, I wish you'd met him sooner.”

  “I think it's you he's admiring, Mum,” said Gabriella, not anxious for a discussion about Rod. “That style knocks fifteen years off your age.”

  Mrs Stevens touched the short wispy curls that surrounded her delicate face with a hint of complacency. “Simon does seem to have a knack, doesn't he?” But she returned to the subject of Rod. “Are you seeing him tonight, dear? We need to confirm how many of his relatives and friends are coming to the wedding. And has he ordered the cars? Oh, and did you decide where to take your honeymoon? I hope you've chosen somewhere romantic, you'll want to treasure -”

  “Rod has everything in hand,” Gabriella cut in quickly. “And I'm not seeing him tonight. Tonight you and I are going out on our own. I'm taking you to White Gables.”

  Mrs Stevens was still. She stared at her daughter, delight and apprehension chasing each other across her face.

  “It won't upset you?” Gabriella asked.

  “Perhaps, a little. The house holds so many memories. But most of them are happy ones. And I do so long to live there again. Gabriella, dear, - you are sure you want me to live with you? And Rod? A mother-in-law!”

  “Of course, Mum, we both want you. And I want you to meet someone. Mrs Priddy. She was Ben's housekeeper and we thought – Rod and I thought – that if you really like her we'd keep her on. She'd be company for you as well, when we're both at work. But only if you like her, of course.”

  “What did you think?”

  “I thought she was extremely nice, and she's crazy about gardening. I think she'd suit very well. But it will be your choice, Mum.”

  Mrs Stevens said, a little wistfully. “It would be lovely to have someone there but – are you sure you could afford it?”

  “You don't have to worry about money, Mum.” Gabriella patted her mother's hand and smiled brightly at her. “All our worries are over now, didn't you know?”

  The return to White Gables was as emotional for Mrs Stevens as it had been for Gabriella, but it was obvious that her pleasure far outweighed the moments of sadness and Gabriella was delighted to see the immediate rapport that sprang up between her mother and Ben's housekeeper. She left them eagerly discussing summer plans for the garden while she made a second, private, tour of the house. As she wandered from room to room her thoughts this time were not with her father but with Rod. She remembered the comfort he had given her and once again she experienced that sense of loss, almost of grief.

  Well, a girl can't have everything, she told herself with grim humour. She had White Gables, she had money and she had half of Englands. Expecting more was just plain greedy.

  ****

  Once the consultant surgeon had reassured her that Mrs Stevens was recovering well from her operation Gabriella couldn't suppress a huge relief that she was tucked safely away in hospital for the next week or so. Since the last confrontation between Rod and herself it had proved difficult to pretend that all was well in front of sharp-eyed Jenny and the others at Englands. To fool her mother day after day was going to require a far greater dramatic talent than Gabriella could muster. While their meetings were constricted to the short visiting hour each evening she could manage it reasonably well but she dreaded the time when the three of them would be together at White Gables. Sooner or later she was bound to give herself away.

  During the day she saw Rod only when it was unavoidable and their communications were cold and brief. Before others she tried to play her half of a happy couple, enduring with an aching smile the weight of Rod's arm around her shoulders, the loving glances he gave her that contained a mocking gleam which only she could see, the affectionate teasing from Jenny and their colleagues.

  And the days passed, bringing their marriage ever nearer.

  “Brewster has all the documents ready,” Rod said one day. “And the Bank wants our signatures on the loan agreements. If you're free this morning perhaps we could go into town and deal with them both.”

  “I'm free.”

  “Good. I'll see you at ten o'clock then.”

  Driving into town later they were both silent, Gabriella reflecting bleakly that what little conversation they had now was limited to the minimum necessary to run the business or to finalise the wedding arrangements or to deal with the sale of Rod's apartment and her house.

  But then Rod broke the silence. “I'd like to go and see your mother tonight.”

  “Why?” she asked, instantly alarmed.

  He glanced at her. “Because she's in hospital, because I like her and because she'll surely think it strange if I don't go at all. Besides, I'm going away for a few days and she'll probably be out by the time I return.”

  “Where are you going?”

  “Along the M4 corridor. Slough, Reading, Swindon – maybe to Bristol if there's time. Now we've caught up on deliveries we need to start looking for new business again.”

  “Frank told me Werner's delivery is going off today.”

  “Yes, he's really pulled out all the stops. He's got those men working like a team at last. When we get the new machinery there''ll be no holding them.”

  “Are you going alone?” she asked.

  He gave her a mocking smile. “Well now,” he drawled. “I haven't decided yet which of my harem to take with me. But don't worry, Gabriella, I've never been one to endure empty hotel rooms.”

  She felt the quick colour flood her cheeks, turned her face to the window and didn't speak again until Rod pulled up outside the Bank.

  When she reached the hospital that evening Rod was already there, lounging against the door of his car. In a well worn but well cut suede jacket, cream sweater and light brown cords he had a casual virility that she had to admire, however grudgingly. Glad that she had insisted on driving herself and therefore would be able to get rid of him once they left the hospital, nevertheless she had to brace herself for the ordeal ahead.

  But her mother was so pleased to see Rod and so excited at her good progress that she didn't seem to notice their apartness.

  “I'm using a Zimmer now,” she told them. “Just for a few minutes at a time but they say I'm doing marvellously! But what about you two? Tell me all your news.”

  “The agent showed a young couple around our house today,” said Gabriella “and they're very interested. He thinks they're going to make an offer.”

  “That's wonderful, dear. And what about your apartment, Rod? Have you sold it?”

  “I've changed my mind and decided to hang on to it for a while. A big electronics firm is relocating here in a couple of months and it's the type of property that could interest them.. Might as well try to get a higher price if I can.”

  Was that true? Gabriella shot a glance at him but of course his face gave nothing away. She couldn't help wondering if he hadn't another reason for keeping the apartment and the image of Sue Langdon flashed instant
ly into her mind. Was he planning to carry on meeting her there?

  “And what about the wedding? You've been very naughty, Rod, dear, keeping me waiting for your guest list.”

  “Sorry, Helen, I promise you'll have it by the weekend.”

  Helen! Since when had Rod taken to calling her mother by her first name? Gabriella stared resentfully at the white cotton bed cover, thinking that he had no right to take such liberties, but then realised she was being rather stupid. In the circumstances he could hardly go on calling her Mrs Stevens – and at least he clearly had no intention of calling her Mum!

  “My mother and my sister Claire will definitely be there,” Rod was saying.

  She hadn't known he had a mother and a sister. Somehow it was hard to think of Rod as being part of a family, as having ever been a child even. She tried to visualise him as a small boy, but couldn't.

  “Darling, where are you?” Startled, she looked up as her mother tapped her hand. “The bell's gone, dear, and I'm sure you two have a lot to do.”

  Gabriella bent over and kissed her. “Can I bring you anything tomorrow night?”

  “No, dear, I've everything I need. Really, they look after you so well here I shall be quite sorry to leave. Of course, that's not true. I'm longing to come and join you at White Gables.” She gave Rod a coquettish look. “If you really don't mind having an old mother-in-law living with you, Rod?”

  He kissed her cheek and smiled. “Don't ever let me hear you say anything like that again. Firstly, you're far from being old, and secondly, I can't imagine a mother-in-law I could like more!”

  And Gabriella could have sworn he meant it.

  The next morning he went away and she felt a marked lightening of her tension. Now she would be able to get on with her work without constantly having to monitor her behaviour. And there was plenty of work. The new machines were to be installed at the end of the week, the new employees were starting on Monday and she had to set up schedules for retraining of existing staff. Jenny worked as hard as ever but by noon it was obvious that even the most urgent tasks would not be completed that day.