‘My, my, the schoolgirl doesn’t realize you prefer older women. Well, you run along back to the classroom, darling, while I educate Spencer in the finer things of life.’
Jane stepped back, waiting for it all to kick off. But Tamara wasn’t the fighting sort; she seemed more of a daddy’s girl who got what she wanted by looking upset and turning on the tears.
Suddenly Tamara slapped Gibbs hard across the face. ‘It’s over, Gibbsey. I never want to see you again,’ she shouted, pushing her way out of the pub.
Jo glared at Gibbs and slapped his other cheek. ‘I hope that hurts as well. If you’d been up front about having a girlfriend, it wouldn’t have been a problem. It’s lying about it that pisses me off.’ She followed Tamara out of the pub.
Jane wasn’t sure if Gibbs’ cheeks were redder from the slaps or the sheer embarrassment. She looked at him sadly and shook her head.
‘For someone who reckons he knows how to handle women, I’d say you just killed two birds with one stone.’
Gibbs forced a smile. ‘Well, as Doris Day said, “Que sera, sera.” Now, if you’ll excuse me, Jane, my fans await.’
He jumped up on the stage and announced that, due to an unforeseen incident, Tamara had to leave in a hurry, but the band would play on.
Soon he was back in his element, singing and playing guitar solos, which brought a rapturous roar of approval from the audience. Jane found herself singing along with the crowd and even having a dance with her colleagues.
When Edwards got a bit drunk and started coming onto her, Jane had to tell him firmly to ‘back off,’ hoping he wouldn’t remember in the morning.
‘This next song is for a good friend of mine,’ Gibbs announced, winking at Jane.
Jane hoped to God he wasn’t going to break into a romantic song, but quickly realized she should have known better when Gibbs began singing Rod Stewart’s ‘Da Ya Think I’m Sexy.’
Jane laughed along with the crowd, feeling more relaxed than she had in ages.
Chapter Twenty
Jane had a long lie-in on the Saturday morning and didn’t get up until ten o’clock. After a filling breakfast of Weetabix, followed by a chunky bacon and egg sandwich, with percolated coffee, she felt re-energized, but decided she wouldn’t think about the investigation or look at her notebook for the whole day. She set about cleaning the flat and doing her washing and ironing. The household chores always gave her a feeling of independence, as her mother had done everything for her when she’d lived at home.
The flat tidy and gleaming, she spent the afternoon lazing on the settee, watching the weepy Lease of Life, starring Robert Donat and Kay Walsh, about the vicar of a small Yorkshire parish who is dying from cancer. It was early evening when the film finished. Happily wiping the tears from her eyes, Jane switched off the TV and went to her bedroom. Opening her wardrobe, she looked for something suitable to wear for dinner with Paul Lawrence. She knew it was informal and looked for something smart but casual. She eventually decided on a white shirt, light brown sleeveless pullover, matching gabardine knee-length skirt, skin-color tights and brown leather shoes with a braid trim. She had a shower, then dried her hair and put on some hair spray. Before leaving, she picked up the dental journal for Paul to have a look at.
En route to Paul’s, Jane stopped at an off-licence. She asked the cashier for a nice red wine to go with beef Wellington and he recommended a Cabernet Sauvignon. It was the most she’d ever paid for a bottle of wine, so she hoped Paul appreciated it.
The journey to Paul’s 1930s semi-detached two-bedroom house in Fulham didn’t take long. She rang the doorbell and Paul, wearing an apron, welcomed her with a hug and kiss on the cheek. She handed him the wine.
‘You look gorgeous, Jane, and thanks for this.’ He looked at the wine. ‘Cabernet Sauvignon... Perfect choice.’
Jane just smiled, not wanting to look stupid by admitting she’d never tasted it before.
‘Come on through while I finish making supper. I changed my mind about the beef Wellington, actually. Do you like Spanish paella?’
‘Yes, I love it,’ Jane fibbed, having no idea what it was.
‘I first tried it in Benidorm on holiday. The fish one’s all right, but I’m cooking a chicken one tonight. The magic ingredient is saffron, apparently.’
‘Sounds lovely,’ Jane said. As she walked through the living room, she remarked how modern it looked with its stone fireplace, orange leather sofa, matching armchairs and ottoman, a light brown shag pile carpet and wood paneled walls.
‘I rented the last place I had in Sussex Mews from an aunt. The University of London’s Bedford College were expanding their campus and made her an offer she couldn’t refuse. I had to mortgage myself up to the hilt for this place, but I like it here.’
In the kitchen, Paul opened Jane’s bottle of wine, poured her a glass and one for himself. Whilst he cooked, Jane recounted what happened to Spencer Gibbs at the pub gig.
‘I wish I’d been there,’ Paul laughed. ‘But Gibbs better hope Andrew Hastings doesn’t find out. Or he may get more than a slap from him—’ He was interrupted by the doorbell.
He was stirring the paella at a crucial moment, so Jane went to open the door. A man in his mid-thirties, wearing a black winter coat, was standing in the porch, holding a bunch of flowers.
‘Jane Tennison?’ he asked, and she nodded. ‘These are for you.’ He handed her the flowers.
Jane couldn’t believe Paul had gone to the effort of surprising her with a flower delivery.
He came into the hallway. ‘Everything OK?’
‘Thank you for the flowers, Paul. They’re beautiful. Do you have any loose change?’
Paul and the man at the door burst out laughing.
Jane gave Paul a bemused look. ‘What’s so funny?’
The man stepped into the hallway and closed the front door.
‘This is Stuart, my friend. I invited him to dinner so you could meet him,’ Paul explained.
‘I feel like a right fool.’ Jane blushed.
The three of them chatted in the kitchen as Paul put the finishing touches to the paella. Stuart explained that he was a jewelry designer for Dunhill and Paul showed her the elegant cufflinks he was wearing, which were a Christmas present from Stuart. Jane instantly warmed to him, feeling he shared many of Paul’s endearing qualities.
‘Excuse me while I nip to the loo,’ Stuart said.
‘What are you thinking?’ Paul asked Jane.
‘Nothing,’ Jane replied, wondering to herself.
‘What do you think of Stuart?’
‘He seems lovely. An absolute gentleman, like you.’
‘He’s more than that — he’s my partner. We’re in a relationship.’
Jane nodded. ‘I thought so, but wasn’t totally sure. I didn’t want to put you in an awkward position by asking anything that might seem offensive.’
Paul gave her a relieved smile. ‘I wanted to tell you after we’d visited the Golden Lion. I was angry about the homophobic remarks Edwards and the others were coming out with at the office meeting. I know they think it’s just a joke, but I don’t, and it’s impossible for me to say anything without raising suspicion.’
‘People like Edwards are idiots and best ignored.’
‘You’re a good friend and take people as you find them, Jane. That’s why I decided to tell you about Stuart. I wish there were more police officers as understanding as you.’
Jane knew that not all police officers were homophobic, but knew it would be many years yet before the force as a whole was truly accepting of gay men and women.