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She forced herself through the door.
He stepped close to her as she walked out of the building, his shoulder rubbing hers as they squeezed past people coming the other way.
“If you see anyone following you again, or even catch sight of a white van, call me.” He took her hand as if to shake it, but they both knew that wasn’t what he was doing.
She gave a nod, gently pulled her hand free and, seeing the bus pull in, ran toward it with a backward wave.
By the time she sat down on the upper deck, Archer was gone.
She flexed her hand, staring down at it.
That seemed to escalate quickly, but really, it had been on a slow boil since the first day she’d sat in his office.
She leaned her forehead against the window, desperate for a bit of cool, and kept her eyes peeled for a white van.
She saw a few, but the modifications on them ruled them out. When the bus lumbered up to her usual stop, though, she stayed where she was and let it take her deeper into Notting Hill. She didn’t feel like going home and making herself dinner, and she wanted to speak to Solomon about the club.
She got off a street away from the Calypso Club and enjoyed the walk there. The air was cooler, the sky a delightful red and orange.
There were plenty of times she missed the weather and the familiarity of home, but sometimes she was gripped by a thrill at being in such a bustling, cosmopolitan place, and was glad her hunt for her father had led her here.
The calypso band was in full swing when she pushed through the door, and Jerome was sitting behind the desk.
“Gabriella.” He pronounced it like Solomon, in the same friendly, slightly amused tone.
Gabriella wondered what they found so funny about her or her name, but she had never detected any malice or ill will with it, so she had decided to take it as a sign of acceptance.
“I’m here for dinner, and to talk to Solomon, if he’s here.” She pulled out her purse and found the right amount to hand over.
Jerome took it and wrote her name carefully in the book. “Mr. Rodney’s here, and Solomon might be round later.”
Jerome would tell him she was looking for him, Gabriella guessed, so she murmured her thanks and went to find Mr. Rodney.
Catherine was sitting with him, and when he saw her, he waved her over enthusiastically.
“You came.” Mr. Rodney beamed as he patted the chair next to him.
“I came.” She smiled at both of them as she sat down. “Catherine.” She was still struck at the outrageous beauty of the woman.
Catherine inclined her head regally. Rather than looking ridiculous, the movement suited her.
“Catherine has just finished her course today. We’re celebrating,” Mr. Rodney told her.
“Congratulations,” Gabriella said. “What course?”
“Secretarial,” Catherine said. “Now I can help Solomon run his business.”
“I thought Solomon worked for British Transport?” Gabriella said. Although, in truth, she knew that’s the impression he wanted her to have, without ever actually saying that’s what he did.
“Oh, he does.” Mr. Rodney sounded so proud. “But he started importing things from home, for the community. It’s making enough now that he can hire Catherine to run things from a small office. Maybe, if it really takes off, he can leave BT and become an entrepreneur.”
Oh, he was already an entrepreneur. She and Catherine exchanged a look, and after a moment of tension, Catherine sent her a wide smile.
She had passed some new test, Gabriella guessed.
They ate their dinner companionably, but by the time Mr. Rodney was ready to go home, Solomon had not put in an appearance.
Catherine bid them good night and went back into the kitchens to help her mother and the other women who ran the club with the clean up, and Gabriella and Mr. Rodney set off home.