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?’

This time his gaze swept over the floor, the sofa, the coffee table. ‘Have you tidied up a bit?’

‘A bit?’ Incredulous, Sally exclaimed, ‘I tidied up a lot. Even with my bad leg! I cleared stuff away, put a load of magazines out for recycling, polished the table with Mr Sheen ... I took all my lipsticks and hair things off the window sill ...’

‘What brought this on?’

She flushed. A mixture of guilt, shame and displacement therapy had spurred her into action.

Keeping busy meant she didn’t have time to keep going over all the bad stuff buzzing around in her brain.

Aloud Sally said, ‘I just thought I should try and start making a real effort. I know it annoys you when I’m untidy.’

‘And you suddenly decided to do it just for me?’ There was a discernible edge to Gabe’s voice.

He raised an eyebrow in disbelief. ‘Or is it for the benefit of people in general?’

‘People in general.’ Sally bristled at his tone. ‘Why are you being like this?’

For a split second he opened his mouth and looked as if he was about to retaliate. Then he shook his head instead and said, ‘OK, forget it, I’m just tired. It’s been a hell of a day.’

You could say that again. And Sally knew her ordeal wasn’t over yet. Since it would look suspicious if she suddenly started avoiding Nick, she was going to have to put on a brave face and pretend everything was fine whenever they encountered each other ... oh God, maybe it would be easier to emigrate .. .

‘Look, I’m sorry I snapped.’ Gabe’s voice softened. ‘Why don’t you sit down and I’ll open a bottle of wine?’

More wine, after all the trouble it had got her into at lunchtime? Shuddering at the memory and only too aware that if Gabe were to turn sympathetic she could end up blabbing out everything

— oh yes, and wouldn’t that help matters — Sally shook her head. ‘No thanks, I’m off to bed.’

Chapter 43

Lola had just finished serving a customer when she glanced up and saw a vision entering the shop.

OK, not an actual vision. Doug.

It really was him. In person. Incredible.

What’s more, she hadn’t even realised she’d said his name aloud, but she must have done because Cheryl, next to her, followed the line of her gaze and said,’ That’s Doug?’ She sounded duly impressed. As well she might.

Lola nodded.

‘Great suit.’ Cheryl, a sharp dresser herself, always noticed other people’s clothes. She said approvingly, ‘Made to measure.’

Every last drop of saliva in Lola’s mouth disappeared. Because if he was coming into her store to buy a book, that was a good sign, surely? Choosing to shop at this particular branch of Kingsley’s had to mean he liked her. Gosh, he looked edible in that dark suit, all lean, mean and .. .

‘Hi!’ squeaked Lola as Doug approached the desk, clearly in a hurry. ‘Well, this is a nice surprise! What can I—?’

‘Sally’s been trying to get hold of you.Your mobile’s switched off and there’s something wrong with the phone line here.’

Lola knew this; a brace of telephone engineers were in the back office working on it as they spoke. ‘It’s being fixed. What’s wrong with Sally?’

‘Nothing. She says you have to get to a TV. Now.’ Doug was slightly out of breath. ‘She rang me at work twenty minutes ago. Do you have a TV in this place?’

‘A TV? This is a bookshop! What did Sally say it was about?’

‘She didn’t, just said to make sure you saw it. From the sound of things, it’s important. It had better be,’ Doug went on. ‘Because I had to leave a meeting to come here and tell you about it.’

Her heart racing and her mouth drier than ever, Lola whispered, ‘Is it something bad?’

Cheryl took charge. ‘He’s already told you he doesn’t know. Off you go,’ she said briskly, pushing Lola out from behind the desk. ‘There’s only one way to find out.’