Page 42 of Gideon (Finding Home #3)

“And then come up to the house,” Oz says. “We can watch the interview, and you should be with us when you do that.”

“Why?” I ask, wincing because it comes out rudely, but none of them look the slightest bit offended.

“Because you should be with friends,” Oz says, slapping me on the back and starting to walk towards the gate. “And family.”

I walk back to the house, pacing quickly along the gravelled path.

The sun is low now and the smell of hawthorn is strong on the air.

I remember Gid’s email about the scent and marvel at the fact that it was only a few months ago.

So much has happened between us, and I feel as close to him as if I’ve known him forever.

I pick up speed so that I’m almost running, but I know as soon as I let myself into the house that he’s gone.

It has the empty feeling of a stage set.

Nevertheless, I walk from room to room checking for him.

The bedroom is empty, his clothes from today slung onto the bed and the covers still tangled from when they’d wrapped around our bodies.

I sink onto the mattress, lifting his T-shirt to my nose and inhaling deeply.

The scent of vanilla and a trace of clean sweat fills my nostrils, and I close my eyes and lie down amongst the sheets that still smell of sex.

I lie still for a while, listening to myself breathe in the stillness and feeling my heart beat fast.

I know I said he has to do what he must, and I truly believe that, but it doesn’t stop the desperate hope that he won’t lie and the knowledge that it will fucking devastate me when he does.

When he looks into the camera and denies everything we are becoming to each other, I know he will break my heart, just as I know that I will still be here when he comes back because I promised, and I won’t break my promises to him.

He’s had too much of that in his life and seen far too many people walk away from him easily.

After a few minutes, I sigh and open my eyes.

I go still, because lying on my bedside table is a rose.

It’s freshly cut, the petals starting to open.

Darkly lush with a sweet, sensual smell, it’s the same as the ones he cuts for me every morning and leaves on my bedside table, waiting for me to wake up and see them. I have a vase full of them now.

I know it wasn’t there this morning, and hope stirs in my belly.

He must have cut this for me before he left.

What does it mean? I sag slightly. Fuck, I hope this isn’t a fucking goodbye gesture.

I reach for it and see a yellow Post-it note underneath, and my hearts pounds so hard it’s like it wants to leave my body.

In Gideon’s scrawling handwriting is written four words. Please don’t leave me.

“Never,” I whisper, but my fingers curl around the stem, and I hiss as a thorn cuts me. Blood wells out as I watch. Fuck, I hope that’s not a bad omen.

An hour later, showered and dressed in khaki shorts and a grey and white striped shirt, I’m as ready as I’ll ever be for this TV ordeal. I make my way up the steps and into the huge old house. Inside it’s shady, the flagstones cool and the air smelling of beeswax and furniture polish.

“Hello,” I call out, my ratty Converse squeaking on the floor.

Oz pops his head around a huge wooden door. “Hey,” he says, smiling at me. “We’re in the study.” He looks around. “Frankie is somewhere around,” he says, shuddering. “Talking very loudly into his mobile phone so we all know how important he is.”

“Gross,” I mutter, following him through a huge room with tall mullioned windows through which the sun dances lazily and shines on suits of armor. We march down some steps and into a large room filled with floor-to-ceiling bookcases. I stand back to let a stern-looking middle-aged woman out.

Oz smiles at her. “Are all the tours done now, June?”

“Just one left, Oz.”

“Would it be possible for you to keep them away from the study?”

For some reason a smile crosses her face, and she winks at him. “I always approach the study with a certain amount of trepidation now, Oz.”

To my amazement he flushes and then rallies. “Sassy woman,” he says smilingly, and she laughs.

“You know it.” To my amazement she squeezes my arm as she walks past. “Please make sure you tell Gideon that he has the staff’s loyalties and all of our support.” She nods firmly to emphasize the point and walks off, her back ramrod straight.

Oz stares after her and shakes his head. “If women like that were in charge of the world it would be a very calm and orderly place. And for some reason she’s very fond of Gideon.”

“The bastion of havoc and bad behaviour,” I say disbelievingly and he laughs.

“Go figure.”

I walk into the room and look around. At one end of the room is a pair of French windows letting in the pungent scent of lavender, and in front of a high fireplace are a long sofa and chairs.

Silas is standing in front of a huge oak cupboard opened to reveal a TV, and I jerk when he moves, and I catch sight of Gideon on the screen.

Dressed in a navy suit with white shirt and red tie, he looks pale under his tan and his lips are drawn thin.

I wander over, exchanging weak smiles with the others. “How does he seem?” I ask, my eyes glued to my lover. “Has he said anything yet?”

Silas shakes his head. “No. It’s just the usual preliminaries.”

Steven Hawksworth is rather pretentious and likes to let the audience watch the stars being set up for interviewing. They can watch them being made up, going through questions, talking to Steven and chatting and laughing.

Gideon isn’t laughing or even smiling. We watch silently as he sits looking sleek and expensive in his designer suit, his foot crossed over his knee.

His expression is spare and under tight control, the only sign of agitation the tic in his jaw and the way his foot is jiggling.

Steven tries to speak to him a couple of times and both times Gideon doesn’t appear to be listening to him, making the interviewer look slightly petulant.

Oz stirs. “Why does the camera keep cutting to Steven laughing and shaking his hair? It’s like a Eurovision Song Contest segment.”

“He likes the camera the way my old dog liked bacon,” I say meditatively, and Niall laughs. I turn my head and look at him in surprise as he and Silas sink into the sofa next to me. Niall smiles innocently, and my eyes narrow.

“What are you doing?”

Oz laughs. “Only known you a few days and already he knows you’re up to something. I rest my case. I said you could never be a secret agent.”

“And you could?” Niall asks crossly. “You’ve got a mouth bigger than the Channel Tunnel.”

“All the better to eat Silas with,” Oz says, winking and laughing as Silas groans and covers his face.

Niall turns to me. “Gideon rang me and Silas on the way to the studio.”

“He rang you,” I whisper, feeling the betrayal slam into me.

He immediately holds up his hands in a panicked fashion. “No. No. Not like that. He only spoke for a few minutes. Just long enough to ask us to look out for you.”

“To look out for me? Why?”

“Because Frankie is on the war path. Gideon wanted us to have your back.”

“It might have been nice for Gideon to share those concerns with me personally,” I say acidly.

He winks. “Nah, you know him. You know that’s not his way.”

“Do I know him?” I ask helplessly.

“Yes,” he says, looking intently at me. “You do. You’re probably the only one in this room who really does. And you’ll know immediately that I was stunned because Gideon is not and has never been very sensitive to people’s feelings.”

“No!” I gasp. “ Really ?”

He grins suddenly, white and wide and somehow approving. Then he nudges me. “Only yours.”

“What?”

“You don’t need to be bothered about what Gideon and I did in the past.”

“I’m not,” I say defensively.

“Oh, okay,” he says, patently not believing me.

“But if you had been, you shouldn’t have bothered because I was never the right person for him, and he wasn’t for me.

” I stare at him, and he shrugs. “He never ever considered coming out for me in all the years we were fucking around. There’s nothing there but friendship between us.

Good friendship, though. For all his faults, Gid makes a good friend.

He’s loyal and cares deeply, whatever he says to the contrary.

He just has to be practically clubbed over the head to notice a problem and then he’s all in.

Ask Jacinta.” He pauses. “He’s just very difficult to know. ”

“Not really,” I say hesitantly, because he isn’t. Gideon is an open book most of the time.

Niall smiles kindly. “Not for you. To be honest, there probably shouldn’t ever have been anything between Gid and me because the potential for fouling up the good relationships we’ve found later in life could have been high.”

I stare at him. He’s one of the most attractive men I’ve ever met, and I don’t mind admitting that I’ve felt threatened by him since I first found out.

But now, not so much, because I see how he is with Milo and I see how Gid is with him.

It’s very different from the way he is with me.

He never looks at Niall the way he does me.

“Actually, I’m sort of glad there was,” I say, my words surprising me, but I realise that it’s true. “I’m glad he had someone he could be himself with.”

“I don’t think he’s ever been that,” he says thoughtfully.

“Until you. Silas and I got different bits of him, but you, you get everything. It’s like he’s dropped all his guards with you.

” He pauses as Milo wanders over and perches on the side of the sofa and leans into him.

He smiles at his boyfriend and then looks back at me earnestly.

“Please look after Gid. He’s a wonderful man.

He just never realises it. He needs someone to remind him of the fact. ”

“I’ll do that every day,” I promise. If I’m given the chance, I think sadly.