The Bridesmaid's Secret

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The Bridesmaid's Secret Page 18

by Sophie Weston


  It was well reasoned. He had been polishing it for days. Unfortunately, it sounded like it. Fluent and convincing though the argument was, it did not sound as if his heart was in it. Not to Bella anyway.

  The drama was great though. The room held its collective breath.

  Bella felt as if she was in a dream: a cruel dream where someone was offering her heart’s desire just before the devil jumped out of his box crying, Fooled you!

  She said roughly, ‘Don’t talk nonsense.’

  ‘It’s not nonsense. This is the most important thing I’ve ever done in my life.’

  She tried to pull her hands away. He would not let her.

  ‘Stop it,’ she hissed under her breath.

  Gil was imperturbable. ‘Marry me.’

  For a moment she almost hated him. ‘Look, I’ve had all I can take from you,’ she said, her voice breaking. ‘Falling in love was bad enough. How much grief do I need? I’ve done embarrassment. I’ve done stupidity. I’ve done falling in love with men who want a class act like my sister.’

  He was so startled, he loosened his clasp.

  ‘Thank you,’ Bella said, wrenching her hands away. She began to retreat.

  ‘Bella—’ he was very calm ‘—this will be the third time you have walked away from me. If you turn your back on me now, it will be down to you. I won’t come after you again. If you want me, you’ll have to come to me.’

  It was too much. Bella could not bear it.

  ‘Go away,’ she yelled.

  And ran.

  ‘You’re crazy, English,’ said Sally in the ladies’ rest room. ‘He’s gorgeous. He’s sexy. He wants you so bad he’s willing to make an idiot of himself in front of half a dozen hungry journalists. What more do you want?’

  ‘I want him to love me,’ said Bella, blotting her eye make-up ineffectually.

  Sally raised her eyes to the ceiling. ‘What on earth makes you think he doesn’t love you? The guy came rushing round here. He had to walk out of some meeting with hotshot bankers but did he hesitate? No. He dropped everything the moment I called him.’

  ‘You called him?’

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘But—’

  ‘Someone has to make sure you don’t junk the best thing that’s ever likely to happen to you,’ said Sally brutally.

  ‘What do you mean, the best thing that ever happened to me? He was just an assignment…’

  ‘Oh, yeah? An assignment whose photograph you carry around in your bag!’

  ‘What?’

  ‘All creased too. Look at it a lot, do you?’

  All the fight went out of Bella. Suddenly she was trembling. ‘You didn’t tell him that, did you?’ she pleaded.

  Sally looked down her nose. ‘I didn’t tell him. But you’re a fool if you don’t.’

  ‘I can’t. He’s in love with someone else.’

  ‘Oh, sure. Like that’s why he came in and asked you to marry him in front of twenty witnesses.’

  ‘But—’

  ‘If you ask me,’ said Sally, ‘it sounded more as if he thought you were in love with someone else.’

  Bella stared. Suddenly she heard that neat little speech in her head again. ‘You still think you’re in love with another man.’ Was it possible?

  ‘Do you think so?’ she said, hardly daring to hope.

  ‘If I were you, I’d let Caruso think she’s succeeded in firing you and get on the first plane to England,’ advised Sally. ‘Go see him. Find out.’ She paused. ‘You do know where he lives?’

  Bella felt as if she had jumped off a cliff, shocked and winded but somehow, unexpectedly, alive. ‘Er—Cambridge somewhere. I can find out. My sister will know.’

  ‘Great,’ said Sally, crumpling up the piece of paper in her pocket on which Gil had thoughtfully written his address. ‘Go get him, tiger!’

  The cottage was set back from the road, behind a hedge that needed cutting. Now she was here, Bella parked the car and sat behind the wheel for a bit, trying to get up her courage. A tangle of roses wafted in the long shadows of the summer twilight. There was a reading lamp on in one of the windows. So he was in.

  Now she was here, she did not feel nearly as sure of herself. Gil might think this was an invasion of his privacy. He might have someone else with him. He might—

  But there was no point sitting here, panicking about it. She had come here to do something and she had better pull herself together and get on with it. She got out of the racy sports car that had been her stepfather’s last birthday present without even looking at it and squared her shoulders.

  She got herself up the untidy front path by dint of concentrating on the overpowering scent of lavender. Once there, Bella swallowed. She wished it was still winter and she had her thick coat to hug round her. But it was summer and all she had was a big Thai-silk scarf. And she didn’t really need that, except for courage.

  She swallowed again and rang the bell.

  Gil opened the door. He looked terrible. She realised she had never seen him unshaven before. His shirt was unbuttoned and there were ink stains on the flapping cuffs. His eyes looked bloodshot and weary. He stared at her for an unsmiling moment.

  ‘May I come in?’ she said in a small voice.

  For a moment he did not answer. Then he shrugged and stood aside.

  There were papers all over the floor. An open bottle of whisky sat in the middle of them. There was no glass. It looked as if he had been drinking straight from the bottle. Clever, controlled Gil de la Court, swigging from a bottle like a frontier desperado? Bella could not believe it.

  She cleared her throat. ‘I think I owe you an apology.’

  Stupid. Stupid. Couldn’t she think of anything better than that to say?

  He shrugged again, turning away.

  ‘Don’t worry about it. You don’t want to marry me. It’s not your fault. You can’t love two people at the same time.’

  Bella stepped in front of him.

  ‘Exactly. That’s what I’ve been afraid of.’

  He blinked. She could see the undisguised bewilderment.

  ‘What?’

  ‘I thought,’ she said loudly, ‘that you were in love with Annis.’

  He seemed to come alive at that. ‘What?’

  Bella quailed a little. ‘My mother. And, well it seemed likely. You said she taught you about body language,’ she said, not very coherently. ‘And she’s so clever. I mean, you’d have been well-suited. And I’m not clever at all…’

  ‘Are you telling me,’ he said with dangerous quietness, ‘that you have put us through all this because you’re jealous of Annis?’

  ‘She’s wonderful,’ said Bella, firing up.

  ‘Of course she’s wonderful,’ he said, impatient. ‘She probably saved my business and she’s a warm and wonderful person. But look at you. You stop traffic.’

  And quite suddenly the thing that still stung, that had lodged like the poisoned dart, shot out, startling her almost as much as Gil.

  ‘I didn’t stop you,’ her hurt heart said bitterly.

  ‘What are you talking about?’

  ‘You left me. That first morning. We’d made love but you went and didn’t come back. And when you saw me you didn’t even kiss me.’

  Gil dropped his head in his hands. ‘Oh, God, help me.’

  ‘Why did you do that? It made me feel so lonely,’ said Bella, forced into honesty

  He dropped his hands. He looked almost wild for a moment.

  ‘I shouldn’t be let out alone. How could I have been so stupid? Bella, my love, I told you I didn’t read women. I wouldn’t have hurt you for the world. But I thought you would want your—space.’

  ‘Why?’ said Bella, bewildered.

  ‘Because that’s what I’d been taught,’ said Gil grimly. ‘I told you there was a woman a long time ago. I was an “A” student, she was a drop-out. She had a crazy, mixed-up history and I was the fall guy. Every time I held her she would fight me off saying I was tryi
ng to take her over. So I learned to keep my distance after we made love.’

  ‘Oh,’ said Bella. ‘When you were a student?’

  Not Annis, then. Not that it mattered now. Not the way he was looking at her.

  ‘Yes. My friends will tell you that Rosemary was a manipulative tragedy queen with a bad case of self-dramatisation. I was very young. I thought she needed to be taken care of. And all I did was take on a lot of stupid ideas and use them to hurt you.’ He looked remorseful. ‘Will you ever forgive me?’

  Bella hesitated. ‘Did you ever want to take care of me?’

  ‘Crazily enough, yes. After you fell asleep that night, I held you and promised myself that I would keep you safe. Getting up and leaving you alone the next morning was one of the most difficult things I’d ever done in my life. But I thought I owed it you not to crowd you.’

  ‘Ah,’ said Bella. ‘I’m not so easily crowded, you know.’

  Suddenly Gil was very close. ‘Yes, I know. You’re a wonder.’

  She stood very still. He took another step towards her. They were almost touching.

  ‘You dance like a demon. You meet life head-on. I’ve never seen such passion.’

  ‘Oh!’

  ‘And you make love with your whole heart.’

  She was silenced.

  ‘I need that,’ said Gil quietly. ‘I need you. I know that I’m a dull mathematician but you could change that.’

  Bella began to smile. She could not help herself.

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Really. Ever since you told me about Kosta I’ve been torn between wanting to tear his liver out and give him a medal. I’m so glad that he turned you down. But I know he’s made you cautious about any more risks. And I really need you to take a risk on me.’

  ‘Ah,’ said Bella.

  She let the Thai shawl fall at last. It pooled across the disaster area of the floor. She did not notice. She stepped towards him.

  ‘Do you think you ever could?’ Gil said soberly. ‘Eventually?’

  She took his hand and helped him to slip one of the fashionable boot-lace straps off her shoulder.

  ‘Since you mention it…’

  His eyes widened. He took her by the shoulders. She could feel his hands shaking. He peeled the little black dress away in one uncontrolled movement.

  ‘Bella,’ he said, moved. ‘My darling.’

  She went into his arms, smiling, utterly confident.

  ‘Lucky chap?’ she asked.

  She was laughing into his mouth as he tumbled her to the floor and the disaster area turned into heaven.

  ‘Oh, by the way,’ he said, a long time later, ‘a fax came for you.’

  Bella was resting her head on his shoulder in blissful content but she raised it at this.

  ‘For me? Here? But nobody knew I was coming…’

  ‘Someone called Caruso knew. She doesn’t like the ending of some piece you’ve written. She wants you to change it.’

  ‘But she fired me.’

  ‘That isn’t how it reads,’ said Gil. He reached round her head and plucked it from his desk above their head.

  Bella read it quickly.

  ‘It looks like I’ve got a career after all,’ she said jubilantly.

  ‘Wonderful,’ he said into her hair.

  ‘If I can find a high note to end on. Maybe I can’t,’ said Bella, struck with self-doubt.

  ‘Then, let me inspire you,’ said Gil calmly. He twitched the paper out of her hand. ‘What’s this article about?’

  ‘You,’ said Bella baldly.

  ‘Oh.’ He grinned. ‘That’s easy. Do you know Jane Eyre?’

  ‘Yes,’ said Bella, bewildered.

  ‘Well? Do you remember the end?’

  ‘No, I haven’t read it since I was at school.’ She was slightly annoyed. ‘What’s that got to do with anything?’

  ‘Come with me,’ he said, and led her into his book-filled bedroom.

  Not just books. Bella looked round and saw, besides a massive bed, a new-looking television with a pile of videos still wrapped in Cellophane. She looked up, a question in her eyes.

  ‘My local video store’s recommendations on children’s movies,’ he explained, faintly embarrassed. ‘I thought I’d better get in something that would make you feel at home before I came looking for you again.’

  ‘So you would have come after me again? In spite of what you said?’

  He put his arm round her and held her close. ‘Couldn’t have helped myself,’ he said simply. He walked her to the book shelf. ‘Now, Jane Eyre. And then I can get down to the serious business of telling you exactly how much I love you.’

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  IT WAS the final editorial meeting on the July issue of Elegance Magazine and it was not going well. Rita Caruso had come in with a late bid for column inches to accommodate a three-thousand-word article that had overrun by fifty per cent and she was fighting like a tiger.

  ‘I can’t cut it. It’s an award winner.’

  ‘Since when has there been an award for schmaltz?’ said the beauty editor. It was her column inches under dispute.

  ‘What’s wrong with schmaltz?’ said Caruso. ‘The readers laugh a bit, cry a bit, end up with a great fat smile on their faces. Beautiful!’

  ‘Sounds good to me,’ admitted the literary editor and, as the others all stared incredulously, said defensively, ‘So I like a happy ending! What about it?’

  Caruso beamed. ‘And what an ending.’ She pushed the page proof into the middle of the conference table. ‘Just look at it!’

  Several people leaned forward.

  The literary editor, who had already read it, did not. He looked at Caruso curiously.

  ‘It’s by the English girl, right? I thought you weren’t sure about her.’

  ‘I’m sure. She’s got a good ear and a nice way with words. My recommendation to take her on has been in London for months.’

  ‘Really? The girls thought she was on some kind of make-or-break test with this one.’

  Caruso smiled like a cat that had got the cream. ‘It’s called man-management, Freddy. And oh, boy, didn’t it work?’

  She glanced down at the page proof with maternal fondness.

  She had used a dark brooding photograph, after Sally had tracked the photographer down and had done a deal with him. But the big, full-page picture was one of Bella’s from Greece. It showed Gil coming up the cliff path after a swim. The light had been wonderful, throwing into bas-relief the sculptured muscles of shoulders and powerful legs.

  But it wasn’t the spare elegance of classical torso, nor the golden tan, nor even the sheer energy of movement that caught the attention. It was his expression. He had looked up at the last moment and had seen Bella taking the photograph. Even an unaccustomed photographer like Bella could not have messed that one up. His heart was in his eyes.

  And then there was the sign-off line, of course. Not a sentimental woman, even Caruso admitted herself moved by that.

  Bella had come awake with a jump.

  ‘My deadline. When was it? What did you do with that bit of paper?’

  Gil pulled her closer against his warm chest. ‘I can’t get up,’ he said lazily. ‘You’ll feel rejected.’

  ‘Don’t tease me. This is serious. I might just have a career if I get back before the deadline.’

  ‘Career women. No sense of priority.’

  He stretched enjoyably and laughed as she could not control her little quiver of response.

  ‘That’s not fair. I’ve never had a career before,’ she said. ‘I want to do this properly.’ But she turned in his arms and kissed him lingeringly before she got out of bed.

  Pleased, he watched her pad naked across the floor between their strewn clothes. Rather more of his clothes than hers of course. His mouth curled irrepressibly at the memory.

  He put his hands behind his head and leaned back with a sigh of contentment.

  ‘I can see I’m going to be a neglected
husband, fitted in between assignments,’ he told the ceiling provocatively.

  Bella came back with the crumpled page and his laptop computer.

  ‘You’re going to be a supportive husband,’ she said firmly. She pushed the laptop across the covers to him. ‘You’ll have to set this up for me, genius.’

  He laughed and dealt with the thing expertly. He did not get up but he rolled over on his stomach and reached out a long arm to plug it into the telephone socket beside the bed.

  ‘You only want me for my computer skills,’ he complained, righting himself.

  Bella looked down at him with total love. ‘I want you for every reason there is,’ she said.

  There was a long, complicated silence while he explored that statement. Eventually she emerged, wide-eyed and laughing, and smoothed her hair with rather shaky fingers.

  ‘Of course the computer skills are a definite bonus.’ The shared laughter was a marvel but it was just the surface of what she felt, like the spray that powered off the cliff-face of their island—spectacular but nothing compared with the depth of feeling underneath. She looked into his eyes. ‘Love you,’ she said, very quietly.

  His hand closed on hers so hard it hurt.

  But all he said was, ‘Love you too. We do this thing together, right?’

  He was talking about more than her assignment and they both knew it.

  ‘Yes,’ said Bella, very confidently.

  But he was talking about her assignment as well, since the final contribution was his idea. So they sat side by side with the computer balanced precariously on her knee and typed in the message, taking alternate words.

  There was a demarcation dispute over who typed the punctuation. But they settled that by a long, competitive kiss. It did not stay competitive but it did end up very long indeed. The screen had gone dark waiting for them to complete the sentence by the time Bella looked round for the computer again.

  ‘Tsk,’ said Gil, wickedly. ‘Think of your career. Concentrate.’

  Bella laughed. ‘All right. I’ll finish it. You send the email. Fair?’

  ‘Agreed.’

  She completed the message.

  Delete and replace final paragraph, it read.

 

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