Chapter 54
Going cold turkey was proving harder than Sally had imagined. This was a magazine habit they were talking about, after all, not crack cocaine.
Oh, but she had a long-standing habit to kick and she badly missed turning those glossy, exciting-smelling, brand new pages. She was doing her best to keep herself entertained instead with a copy of Pride and Prejudice lent to her by Lola but it just wasn’t doing the trick.Apart from anything else the pages weren’t glossy and there was no mention in it anywhere of Coronation Street. What’s more, the print was so tiny she had to screw up her eyes to read it, which made her realise she was probably on the verge of needing reading glasses which in turn made her feel old.
‘Oh shut up,’ Sally wailed at the TV as an advert for the latest edition of Heat came on.
Chucking Pride and Prejudice at the screen only caused the craving to intensify She tried changing channels and folding her arms. Oh yes, great help. OK, but how about if she didn’t buy a new magazine, just had a little look through an old one instead? That would take the edge off the cravings, wouldn’t it? Except she’dhave to contain herself until she got to work and nabbed one of the tatty old germ-laden cast-offs in the waiting room and she wasn’t working this afternoon ... oh now, hang on, unless there were still a couple lurking around here somewhere that had managed to escape the cull .. .
A light bulb went on inside Sally’s head and she launched herself off the sofa. Because the sofa was the answer! In the bad old days when she’d been forced to tidy up at a moment’s notice, as much excess mess as humanly possible had been squashed into that narrow space between sofa and carpet. Furthermore, because out of sight was completely out of mind, it had never occurred to her to clear the stuff out.
And thank goodness for that! On her hands and knees Sally peered into the dark gap and saw shoes, empty crisp packets, plates, socks, one of her all-time favourite devoré velvet scarves —
yay! — and, oh joy, a scrumpled-up magazine. She reached under the sofa for it, stretching her fingers to the limit
‘What are you doing?’
Sally paused, bottom up in the air. ‘Just looking for my pink scarf.’ She dragged it out, said triumphantly, ‘And here it is! Why, what are you doing?’
‘Admiring the view’ Gabe grinned and gave her bottom a pat. ‘I’m off for a shower, got an appointment with a Page Three girl in Hyde Park.’
‘Lucky you. Will she be naked?’
‘Clothes on. Her agent set it up; it’s for a snatch pose. Which is not what it sounds like.’ He gave her a look as she started to snigger. ‘It means you use a long lens and make the shots look as if they’ve been snatched from a distance. The girl’s going to have a huge fight with her boyfriend at eleven o’clock on the bridge over the Serpentine. If it rains, we’ll shoot it in the café.’
Sally smiled and watched Gabe disappear into the bathroom. The moment the door closed behind him she was burrowing back under the sofa for the magazine ... reeeeach ... oh dear, was this the equivalent of someone who’s given up cigarettes scrabbling about in the gutter for somebody else’s abandoned dog end?
She fell on the magazine with a cry of relief. Dog-eared and battered it may be, but it was only a few weeks old. Still kneeling on the floor, Sally lovingly turned the pages.There was an interview with Nicole Kidman about her latest film. Kate Moss was wearing purple micro shorts and pink polka-dotted Wellingtons — as you do — as she shopped in Knightsbridge. Leonardo di Caprio was photographed playing volleyball on the beach, here was the montage of cellulite shots, there the snaps of unshaven armpits, the soapstars making holy shows of themselves at a party after an awards ceremony. OK, it wasn’t intellectual but it was entertaining and during her darker days she’d drawn huge comfort from knowing that even super-glamorous celebrities could have disastrous love lives too. Not that this applied to her now, ta dah, she no longer needed to surround herself with other people’s misery because she had Gabe and he was everything she’d ever— oh.
Sally’s stomach clenched with recognition as she turned a page and the envelope dropped out of the magazine into her lap. So that was what had happened to it during her fit of frenzied tidying the other week.
She put down the magazine and examined the envelope with Gabe’s name on it. In one way it was nice to have the mystery of its disappearance solved. But it also presented her with a dilemma because she’d never actually mentioned the letter to Gabe.
The temptation was to rip it to shreds and stuff it in thebottom of the kitchen bin. After first reading it, naturally. She knew it was from a female, and that around the time of its delivery Gabe had been in a seriously iffy mood. There was a distinct possibility that the non-arrival of the letter could have had something to do with that.
Tear it up.
Read it first.
No, just tear it up and throw it away, it’s better not to know. OK, stop, stop. Sally closed her eyes. She loved Gabe and that meant she had to be honest with him.
Fear beat like a bird inside her chest. Over the years, being honest hadn’t always come naturally to her. As she pushed open the bathroom door it crossed her mind that this could be the last time she saw his body naked. And she’d only just got to know it. Oh God, could she do this?
‘Gabe?’ She opened the shower cubicle an inch, experienced a little frisson of lust at the sight of him and said, ‘I’ve got something for you.’
Steam billowed out of the cubicle. Gabe turned, shampoo streaming down his face as he rinsed his hair. With a grin he opened the door wider and in one movement pulled her into the shower.The next moment she was minus her sodden dressing gown. ‘That’s a coincidence,’ he said playfully, ‘I’ve got something for you too.’
Honestly, what a wasted opportunity; if she’d taken the envelope in with her, the ink would have run and the letter would have been rendered illegible, neatly solving all her problems in one go.
Except she hadn’t thought of that, had she? Instead, like a complete durr-brain, she’d dropped it onto the tiled floor as Gabe was yanking her into the shower. And here it was, patiently waiting for them when they eventually emerged, twenty highly pleasurable minutes later.
‘OK, don’t be cross with me.’ Sally retrieved the envelope and handed it to him. ‘This arrived a couple of weeks ago, then it went missing. And that was your fault because you made me tidy the flat.’ She kissed him hard on the mouth. ‘I just found it under the sofa inside a magazine.’
Gabe, who found her self-imposed ban hilarious, said affectionately, ‘Not that you’d ever look inside one of those.’
‘I lapsed. I’m only human. Anyway, read your letter.’ Grabbing a white bath towel and wrapping it around herself, Sally hastily left the bathroom.
Mystified, Gabe shook back his hair then opened the envelope. The letter was handwritten in turquoise ink.
Dearest Gabe, I deleted your number from my phone to stop myself from becoming your nuisance caller, hence this letter.
Well, I’ve decided the time has come to show the world the real me. And I want to use the photos you took. Hope that’s OK with you. If you want me to give you the credit and a byline, get in touch. If I don’t hear from you I’ll be discreet and won’t use your name. I shall also donate the fee for the article and your photos to Alopecia UK.
All love Say Xxx
Gabe smiled and wondered how much money he’d missed out on. He could have used it to leave the papping life behind him and start afresh in a studio ... Oh well, never mind, toolate to worry about it now. The charity wouldn’t be too thrilled if he were to ring them and demand his share of the fee back. And in time he would set up on his own, specialising in portrait photography. At least Savannah had made the effort to contact him, which was good of her.