Выбрать главу

‘No? Well, that’s all right.You don’t have to have one.’Amused, Nick said, ‘It’s not compulsory’

‘Can you believe this is happening?’ Without the support of the crutches Sally felt herself beginning to sway.

‘Steady.’ He reached for her. ‘You’re not a stork.’

Who wanted to be a stork? ‘It’s the last thing I expected: Sally gazed at him. ‘Is it the last thing you expected?’

He looked bemused, frowned slightly. ‘Well, yes, but ice skaters do injure themselves, so I suppose there’s always a chance ...’

‘Doesn’t matter.’They appeared to be talking at cross purposes but Sally was beyond caring. ‘It won’t make any difference, I promise.’ Curling her arms around his neck, unable to hold back a moment longer, she lunged forward and kissed him passionately, full on the mouth.

Chapter 42

Making his way along Radley Road, Gabe slowed and looked up at the window of the flat.

Puzzled by the sight of what appeared to be two people locked in a passionate embrace, he reached instinctively for the camera around his neck and peered through the long lens, adjusting it until it slid into focus.

What the ... ?

Gabe’s heart began to thud in his chest. Jesus. Sally and Lola’s father. Sally, wrapped around him like a scarf. Lola’s father .. . for crying out loud, how long had this been going on? How long had they been carrying on behind his back? And not only his back, Lola’s too, because she absolutely definitely didn’t know about this.

Unable to watch any more, Gabe put down the camera and turned away. His hands were trembling and he felt as if he’d been punched hard in the stomach. Talk about sly, underhand, deceitful ... How dare they? He swallowed and turned back; yes, they were still there, no longer kissing but only inches apart, holding each other and gazing into each other’s eyes, murmuring sweet nothings ... So this was the kind of man Nick James was, nothing but a sleazy Lothario.

How fucking dare he?

Something truly horrible was happening. When Nick jerked away, Sally said, ‘Sshh, it’s OK, you don’t have to worry about Lola any more. She understands.’

But Nick wasn’t looking relieved. More like horrified. Eyes wide with disbelief, he said, ‘This isn’t to do with Lola.’

‘Wh-what do you mean? I d-don’t understand.’ It came out as a whisper. ‘I thought you liked me.’

‘I do like you.’ Nick shook his head. ‘Of course I do,’ he insisted. ‘You’re Lola’s friend.’

This was a nightmare. Sally felt sick and suddenly, hideously sober. In a lifetime of faux pas, this one took the biscuit. Never before had she made quite such a prize dick of herself as this.

‘I’m so sorry.’ Nick was clearly mortified. ‘I had no idea: That only made it worse.

‘No, I’m sorry. I thought you were flirting with me! At least she could be honest — there was no point in trying to pretend the kiss had been some kind of accident.

Vehemently Nick shook his head. ‘I was just being friendly. I was glad we seemed to be getting on so well. I want my daughter’s friends to like me.’

Humiliation was washing over Sally in waves; she’d liked him so much she was mentally already pregnant with their first child. How could she have got it so utterly, completely wrong?

How was she ever going to erase the memory of that kiss from her brain? She’d never be able to forget the moment she launched herself at his mouth and felt him freeze in disbelief ... oh, oh God...

‘Come on, sit down: Nick skilfully steered her away fromthe window and lowered her into a chair. ‘And don’t be upset. I’m incredibly flattered.’

But not flattered enough to reciprocate her feelings, obviously.

‘You’re a beautiful girl. Any man would be proud to have you as his girlfriend.’

Any man except you, obviously.

‘Look, I have to leave.’ Nick checked his watch, clearly lying but desperate to escape. ‘Why don’t I make you that coffee now, then I’ll be off: Because I don’t want bloody coffee, I want a gallon of weedkiller.

‘And don’t worry, we’ll just pretend this never happened. Lola doesn’t need to know. I won’t tell her,’ Nick said gently. ‘I won’t breathe a word to anyone. That’s a promise.’

It took Gabe half a minute to reach his car. He zapped open the door and sank into the driver’s seat, appalled by what he’d learned about himself in the last thirty seconds. Because he genuinely hadn’t had any idea, not even the remotest inkling, that the sight of Sally with another man could make him feel like this.

Yet ... it had. Despite the fact that she drove him insane on a daily basis, that she lived her life surrounded by clutter and chaos and that domestically they were about as compatible as Tom and Jerry, in the space of just a few seconds Gabe discovered that he was capable of white-hot jealousy where Sally was concerned. Because he didn’t want her to be seeing someone else.

Oh God, now he knew he was going stark staring mad. Sally, of all people. Gabe groaned aloud and rubbed his hands over his face. This couldn’t be happening; he didn’t want to want her. She was the last person on the planet he needed to get involved with.

Except ... well, that wasn’t going to happen anyway, was it? It wasn’t as if it was even an option, because she was already involved with someone else.

Bloody hell, Lola’s dad. How long had that been going on? And they’d been keeping it very quiet, although this was hardly surprising given the circumstances. Lola was currently doing her damnedest to get her mum and dad back together. If Nick and Sally were prepared to take the risk of her discovering that one of her best friends had pinched him instead ... well, it had to be serious.

Gabe felt sick. First Savannah, then a puncture on the M4 on the way back to London, and now this. What a ridiculous situation to be in.

Seeing as he couldn’t go back to the flat for a while, Gabe switched on the ignition. The car radio came to life, belting out an REM classic. Michael Stipe, never the cheeriest of souls, sang mournfully, ‘Eeeeeeeeeverybody huuuuuurrrrrrts ..

Hmm, with Sally’s track record the chances were that she was the one who’d end up getting hurt.

‘Eeeeeeeverybody huuuuuuurrrrts—’

Oh, do shut up. Impatiently Gabe jabbed the off button, cutting Michael Stipe off in mid-warble.

Who was he trying to kid? Right now, he was the one hurting. Jealousy was a new sensation and it was gnawing away in his chest like battery acid.

He didn’t like this feeling one bit.

Sally was in the kitchen when Gabe arrived home at midnight. Hobbling out in her dressing gown clutching a packet of Kettle chips, she watched him shrug off his jacket.

‘Where have you been? You look awful.’

Gabe glanced at her. ‘Not looking so fantastic yourself.’

‘Thanks’ Sally already knew she looked like poo. Feeling sorry for yourself and having a good old two-hour blub in the bath was capable of doing that to you. She’d tried to scrub away the shame of having made an idiot of herself but it hadn’t worked. Basically, as far as men were concerned, she always had been and always would be a walking disaster.

OK, a limping one.

But at least Gabe didn’t know about this afternoon’s debacle with Nick. Attempting normality Sally said, ‘Been working all this time?’

He shrugged. ‘Yes.’

‘Any good shots?’

‘No.’ Gabe was standing stiffly by the window gazing out into the darkness, his streaky blond hair dishevelled and his hands now stuffed into the pockets of his ancient jeans.

Annoyed by the fact that he hadn’t even noticed, Sally said, ‘Spot the difference?’

His jaw was taut. ‘What?’

‘Oh, for heaven’s sake, if this is how observant you are it’s no wonder you miss out on all the best photos! How does this room look to you?’