A Rich Man's Touch

by Mather, Anne

  Rachel took the sheet of paper and gave a shaky laugh. ‘You’re so good for my ego.’

  ‘No, I’m practical, is all,’ said Stephanie drily. ‘Now, I’m not saying that that number is the answer to all your problems, but at least if you do decide to ring Copleys again you don’t have to go through some snotty receptionist.’

  Thanks.’ Rachel folded the sheet and put it into her skirt pocket. Then she bestowed a kiss on her friend’s cheek. ‘You’re a pal.’

  She told her mother what she’d done that evening. She felt the other woman deserved to know what she was thinking, and for once Mrs Redfern didn’t start grumbling as soon as Rachel mentioned Gabriel’s name.

  ‘I suppose he deserves to know,’she admitted grudgingly. ‘If you think he’ll be interested, that is. But I doubt if he’ll get in touch with you. I’d heard he’d gone back to London, and if you say he’s in Italy—well, I expect he’ll be thinking of taking up the reins of the company again when he gets back.’

  ‘Mmm.’

  Rachel didn’t trust herself to make any comment. The idea that Gabriel might not come back to Kingsbridge at all was too upsetting to think about. Wasn’t it too soon for him to be thinking of resuming his duties as CEO of Webb’s Pharmaceuticals in any case? What if he collapsed again? What if she knew nothing about it? God, how was she going to survive not knowing where he was or what he was doing?

  Dr Williams rang on Wednesday evening to let Rachel know that an appointment had been made for Hannah to see the child psychologist the following week, and on Thursday Mrs Redfern reported that the physiotherapist, Mrs Stone, had noticed significant improvement in the little girl’s mobility. It was as if now that Hannah had decided to walk again her progress was accelerating, and Rachel buried her own unhappiness over Gabriel in the fierce pride she felt for her daughter. This was what was important to her, she told herself. Nothing else should even come close.

  But it did.

  In spite of what Andrew had told her, and Gabriel’s continuing silence, hope sprang eternal. Every morning she suffered the quivering expectation of wondering if this might be the day when she’d see Gabriel again, and every night she felt the bitterness of knowing that once again her hopes had been dashed. Day followed day with depressing familiarity, but no dark-haired stranger came into the cafe, no deep sensual tones called her to the phone. As Andrew had so smugly told her, Gabriel wanted nothing more to do with her, and somehow she had to stop thinking that he did.

  And then, on Friday evening, the phone rang as she was about to leave the cafe.

  She was late, and, expecting it to be her mother, Rachel lifted the receiver with mild impatience. She was wondering what it was that couldn’t wait until she got home, and then was almost shocked out of her mind when an achingly familiar voice said, ‘Rachel?’

  Trembling, she groped for the edge of the counter and supported herself against it. ‘Gabriel?’ she breathed, almost disbelievingly. ‘Oh, God, is that really you?’

  ‘Who were you expecting?’ he enquired coolly, and she blessed whatever fate had decreed that on this particular evening she should be a few minutes late in leaving.

  ‘I—nobody,’ she denied weakly. ‘Urn—did you get my message?’

  ‘Your message?’ Plainly, he hadn’t. ‘No. I got no message. When did you leave one?’

  Rachel was shaking so badly she could hardly stand.

  ‘I—I tried to ring you on Monday morning,’ she said tremulously. ‘I didn’t have your number, so I rang the plant and asked the receptionist if it was possible to get in touch with you. I wanted to tell you about Hannah. She’s been getting out of her chair on her own, and a week ago her head teacher called me into the school to ask if I knew anything about it. Of course I didn’t. As far as I was concerned she was still totally paralysed, but it’s not true. There’s been a distinct improvement, and if she hadn’t fallen trying to pick up a paintbrush we might still have known nothing about it.’

  The words had come bubbling out of her mouth, as much the result of nervousness as anything, and she knew they weren’t exactly coherent. All the same, when he didn’t immediately answer her, she realised how foolish she must sound. What reason did she have for thinking he was still interested in their lives? He hadn’t had her message. That wasn’t why he’d rung. For all she knew he might have something entirely different on his mind.

  ‘Anyway,’she said, hurrying to fill the awkward silence that had fallen, ‘you didn’t ring me to talk about Hannah.’ She paused. ‘How—how are you? Andrew told me you were in Italy. Did you have a good—?’

  ‘Andrew!’ Gabriel’s interjection was raw. ‘You admit you’ve spoken to Andrew?’ He paused. ‘Have you seen him?’

  ‘No.’ Rachel was indignant. ‘Of course I haven’t seen him. Why would I? I told you, I tried to get in touch with you by ringing the plant and—’

  ‘Yes, yes.’ Gabriel spoke impatiently. ‘But where does Andrew come into this? Why did you ring him?’

  ‘I didn’t ring him.’ Rachel’s voice grew defensive in response to the accusation in his. ‘He—he took the message.’

  ‘Where? At the plant?’ Gabriel sounded sceptical and she wanted to scream with frustration. ‘Andrew never goes to the plant.’

  ‘Not at the plant.’ Rachel felt a painful lump in her throat. Here they were arguing about Andrew again, and she didn’t know how it had happened. ‘He rang me from Copleys. The receptionist I spoke to must have passed my message on to him.’

  There was another of those pregnant silences and Rachel wondered what he was thinking. He couldn’t possibly believe that she’d speak to Andrew voluntarily. Or was she being hopelessly naive in thinking that she and Gabriel might take up where they’d left off?

  ‘And your story is that you rang to tell me about Hannah?’he said at last, and Rachel gave a startled gasp.

  ‘My story?’ she echoed. ‘It’s no story. It’s the truth.’ She took a gulp of air, and then continued tightly, ‘I realise it was probably silly to think that you’d want to know—that you’d even be interested. I’m sorry, but it seemed a good idea at the time.’

  ‘Don’t be stupid!’ Gabriel’s voice was harsh with emphasis. ‘Of course I’m interested in Hannah. Dammit, that was why I was ringing you. Despite what—well, despite what I thought, I didn’t think that child deserved to suffer just because her mother wouldn’t listen to reason.’

  Thanks.’

  Rachel pressed her lips together before she could say anything more. The urge to ask him what he meant by criticising her when he hadn’t demurred from discussing their relationship with his son was almost irresistible, but this wasn’t about her. As he’d just said, it was about Hannah. And he was right: her daughter did deserve better. ‘And I’m glad that she’s making progress at last,’he added, and for the first time there was a trace of warmth in his tone. ‘How does she feel about it?’ ‘Good.’ Rachel didn’t know how long she could go on without losing control. ‘She’s going to see a child psychologist next week. Just as you suggested.’ ‘Great.’ He was evidently pleased. ‘How do you feel about that?’

  ‘As you pointed out earlier, my feelings aren’t in question here,’said Rachel stiffly. ‘But, as you’d expect, I’m delighted, too.’ ‘You don’t sound delighted.’

  ‘Well, I am.’ Rachel was having a struggle to keep the emotion out of her voice. ‘I—I did want to thank you, actually. For what you did. If Hannah hadn’t been so excited by your horses she might never have found the courage to try and stand by herself.’ ‘You think it was crucial?’He was cynical.

  ‘I do.’And, in an effort to justify that belief, she added swiftly, ‘She’s determined to learn to ride herself. I think your groom, Katy something-or-other, gave her the idea, and she can’t wait to—to—try it.’

  But her last words were reluctant. Once again her tongue had run away with her, and she realised with a feeling of dismay how what she’d said might be interpreted. God, he was going
to think she was asking if Hannah could visit Copleys again, when that was the last thing he’d have in mind.

  ‘I mean,’ she appended unhappily, ‘when she grows up, of course. And by then, please God, she’ll have the full use of her legs.’ ‘I’m sure she will.’ Gabriel’s voice was terse now. ‘Hannah’s a determined little girl.’He paused. ‘Like her mother.’

  Rachel didn’t answer him. She couldn’t. The change of topic was too upsetting for her fragile emotional state, and now all she wanted to do was put the receiver down and forget he’d ever made this call.

  ‘I—I’ll tell Hannah you rang,’she got out at last, but before she could hang up the phone, Gabriel uttered a strangled sound. God,’he said savagely, ‘can’t we talk about anything else but Hannah?’ Rachel struggled to keep her tears at bay. ‘I—I thought that was what you—what you—’

  ‘Wanted?’he demanded, breaking into her trembling words. ‘Well, it wasn’t.’He gave another anguished moan. ‘Oh, that was my excuse for ringing you, yes, but dammit, Rachel, it’s you I wanted—I needed to talk to. Talk to me, can’t you? Haven’t you missed me at all?’

  Rachel held the phone away from her ear for a moment, staring at it as if she couldn’t believe what she was hearing. And then, jamming it back again, she countered unsteadily, ‘Have you missed me?’

  ‘Do you have to ask?’ Gabriel spoke almost bitterly. ‘Will I damn myself completely if I tell you I’ve thought of nothing else but you ever since I walked out of the cafe three weeks ago?’

  A sob escaped her. She couldn’t help it. It was such a relief hearing him say what she had so desperately wanted to hear, and tears were suddenly pouring down her cheeks. Oh, Gabriel,’she breathed, licking the salty droplets from her lips. ‘Do you mean it?’ ‘I don’t usually say things I don’t mean,’he retorted huskily, and she gave a tremulous little laugh. ‘You said you didn’t think I cared about anybody,’she reminded him unsteadily, and he groaned.

  ‘I did say I didn’t usually say things I don’t mean,’ he admitted ruefully. ‘Even I’ve been known to say stupid things on occasion. Particularly where you’re concerned, as it happens. Do you forgive me?’

  ;Do you forgive me?’ she responded huskily, and at last Gabriel seemed to detect the emotion in her voice.

  ‘Are you crying?’he exclaimed, and when she didn’t answer, he continued, ‘I’m coming to pick you up. Give me five minutes and I’ll be outside the cafe.’ ‘Five minutes?’ Rachel was horrified. ‘You’ll kill yourself!’

  Only if I run into something coming out of the Golden Lion’s car park,’remarked Gabriel drily. ‘I’ve been here all afternoon, trying to pluck up the courage to cross the street.’ ‘You haven’t!’ Rachel caught her breath. ‘But why?’

  ‘I’ll tell you when I see you,’he promised softly. ‘Get your coat. It’s raining outside.’

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  By the time the Mercedes drew to a stop outside, Rachel had phoned her mother to tell her she’d be late—though not why—made sure the power had been turned off, the alarm was activated and the door locked. She was hovering under the overhang that shaded the cafe’s window when the big car cruised up to the kerb, and her eyes widened in surprise when she saw Gabriel himself at the wheel.

  ‘Get in,’ he said, leaning across the passenger seat to thrust the door open, and, squashing any lingering doubts she might have had, Rachel scooted across the pavement and into the car.

  Because it was a no-parking area—and the start of the rush hour—Gabriel was forced to drive on at once, and he spared her only a passing glance before moving into the press of traffic. His attention had to be concentrated on avoiding the many obstacles that blocked the one-way street, and Rachel gripped her handbag tightly in her lap as he wove around jaywalking pedestrians and illegally parked vehicles.

  But, although she determinedly watched the road ahead, Rachel was intensely conscious of him beside her. The fleeting glance he had cast her way had been enough for her to see that wherever he’d been it hadn’t done much for his health. He looked pale—gaunt, even—the deep grooves she had first noticed bracketing his mouth back in evidence. He looked older, too, and her heart ached at the thought that she might be responsible for even a part of his appearance.

  ‘Sorry about this,’ he said abruptly, as if he thought she was blaming him for the traffic snarl-up. It was true, she was sitting rather stiffly in her seat, and she had made no attempt to say anything since she got into the car.

  ‘It’s not your fault,’she murmured now, glancing his way for the first time. ‘How—how are you? Really?’

  Gabriel’s lips twisted. ‘How do I look?’And, when Rachel didn’t immediately answer him, That bad, huh?’He gave a short laugh. ‘At least I can rely on you to tell me the truth.’ Rachel sighed. ‘You look—tired, that’s all,’ she protested quickly. ‘Have you started work again?’

  ‘Not yet.’His voice was flat. ‘As Andrew told you, I did go to Italy for a few days. I accompanied my mother home, as a matter of fact. She hates flying alone.’ Rachel swallowed. "What—what did Andrew tell you about me?’

  Gabriel didn’t immediately answer her. He appeared to be involved with steering the big car out of the narrow street where the cafe was situated and into the broader thoroughfare that led to the outskirts of the small town, but Rachel sensed his mind wasn’t wholly on his driving. She knew him so well, she thought; or at least she believed she did. There was more to this than he had admitted thus far, and her stomach clenched at the prospect of confronting more of Andrew’s lies; or maybe confronting Andrew himself.

  ‘Do you mind if we wait until we get where we’re going before we talk about Andrew?’he asked at last. There’s something I’ve got to tell you about him and I’d prefer not to be gripping a steering wheel at the time.’

  ‘Well, where are we going?’ she asked. But she knew. This was the way to Copleys. She might only have been there a couple of times, but she knew the route by heart.

  ‘If you don’t mind, I thought we’d go to my house,’he responded, as she’d known he would, and her nerves tightened again at the realisation that her instincts were as sharp as

  ever.

  ‘Did—did he tell you he’d seen me?’ she demanded abruptly, unable to wait so coolly for him to tell her the worst. ‘Did you believe him?’

  Gabriel sighed. ‘Rachel—’

  ‘Did you or didn’t you—?’ She broke off, and then added chokingly, Was that really why you rang?’ ‘I wanted to speak to you about Hannah,’he replied doggedly. ‘I told you that.’

  Rachel’s nails dug into her palms as she turned to look at him. ‘And that was why you satin the Golden Lion all afternoon? Because you wanted to ask me about Hannah?’ Gabriel groaned. ‘All right, no,’ he admitted harshly. ‘Hannah was only an excuse. Of course I’m delighted to hear that her prognosis is so much more optimistic, but—God, Rachel, it’s you I wanted to see. You know that.’

  Rachel trembled. ‘So why didn’t you come into the cafe?’

  ‘You know why,’he muttered, swinging the wheel, and she suddenly realised they were about to turn into the gates of Copleys.

  ‘Do I?’ she countered, aware that this washer last chance to talk to him on her own ground, so to speak. ‘Stop the car, Gabriel. I want to know exactly what Andrew said.’

  She thought he wasn’t going to obey her. The gates had already swung open, and for a second his foot seemed to press even harder on the accelerator. But then, with a muffled oath, he stood on the brake, and the powerful car came to a shuddering halt.

  The silence in the car after the engine had been turned off was deafening, and Rachel wondered at her own audacity in ordering him to do anything. But then her courage asserted itself, and, licking her dry lips, she said, ‘He did say something, didn’t he? And you believed him!’

  Gabriel’s shoulders sagged. Okay,’ he said flatly. ‘I did believe him. At first, anyway.’ His eyes darkened. ‘You believed him, to
o, didn’t you? That night—that night we were together? You’re not going to pretend it was our lovemaking that sent you fleeing out into the night without even letting me ask Mario to drive you home?’

  Rachel felt a trace of colour enter her cheeks. That was different.’she said defensively, and Gabriel’s mouth twisted.

  ‘How different?’ he asked huskily. ‘You wouldn’t even allow me to explain why he was there. On three separate occasions.’

  ‘Three?’

  ‘Sure.’ His eyes gleamed in his pale face, dark and irresistibly appealing. ‘And if you hadn’t believed that garbage he spouted about me feeling sorry for you we wouldn’t be in this position now.’

  That may be true—’

  ‘It is true.’ Gabriel expelled a weary breath. ‘Look, there’s something you need to know about Andrew. The reason why I had to go to London a few weeks ago was because he had been arrested for drug dealing. He needed my help to get a lawyer, to invent an adequate defence for what he’d done.’ Rachel’s lips parted. ‘Oh.’

  ‘Yes, oh!’said Gabriel drily. ‘In his defence, I have to say his arrest was somewhat premature. He wasn’t dealing in drugs, but he had got hooked up with someone who was and it was all a bit messy.’

  ‘And that’s why he came back to Copleys?’

  ‘No.’ Gabriel chose his words with care. ‘You may remember I had a phone call that evening we went out to dinner? It was from Andrew. He needed money, more money, and I refused to give it to him. I’d told him I wasn’t going to support his habit and I guess he’d decided that he might have more luck if he spoke to me face-to-face. Finding us together must have been a hell of a shock, but that doesn’t excuse his behaviour—even if it does provide a reason for it.’

  Rachel shook her head. ‘I had no idea.’

  ‘No.’ Gabriel conceded the point. ‘But perhaps you can understand why I was so reluctant to tell you. Whatever his faults, he is my son.’He paused. ‘Can you understand?’ ‘I can understand your feelings,’ said Rachel slowly. ‘But I’d like to know what he told you about my call. He did tell you I’d phoned, didn’t he? I mean, the receptionist at the plant can confirm it.’