Page 15

chapter fifteen

Gabriella made a point to get to the pub early.

Ben was always there first because he lived closest, and she wanted a few minutes alone with him before Dominique and Trevor arrived.

She’d spent her Saturday morning shift thinking about what was coming next in her case, and realized she needed to get a timeline out of Ben.

He waved to her when she walked in, and she rubbed her hands together as she made her way to the booth, nose and cheeks stinging in the sudden warmth of the pub.

“You’re early,” Ben said.

“On purpose,” she told him. “I wanted to know what to expect from your boss. I don’t even know his name.”

“Monty Havelock, QC.” Ben said the name with a put-on upper class accent.

“That’s how he speaks?” she asked.

“He speaks better English than the queen. All part of what drives him, I think. He won’t allow a single chink in his armor.” Ben’s lips twisted in a wry smile. “He’ll be in touch next week some time. He’ll be on this quickly, I promise you that.”

She gave a nod. “Can you tell me what Solomon’s business was with you, when he gave you a lift home?”

He looked up, eyes wide, and then leaned back. “Client privilege, Gabby. I can’t say.”

“So he’s now a client.” That was all she needed to know. Solomon had hired Ben for something. She wondered what it could be, but it wasn’t surprising. Solomon was getting more organized. She could tell by the number of people he seemed to command, and the fact that he’d had the money to recently buy a car.

Sooner or later, he’d come to the attention of someone in authority. If he hadn’t already.

It was wise to get a lawyer on his side ahead of any possible trouble.

She hoped Ben knew what he was getting into, but she also hoped Solomon was able to stay out of trouble. A lot of people depended on him, including Mr. Rodney.

“He’s an interesting man,” Ben said. “Where does his family hail from?”

“Trinidad and Tobago. And don’t you ever confuse that with Jamaica,” Gabriella told him, very seriously. “Ever. It’s like mistaking Australians for New Zealanders.”

“Got you.” Ben grinned, then looked toward the door and waved.

Dominique and Trevor walked in, removing hats and coats as the heat inside hit them.

There was the usual laughter as they got drinks and settled in, catching up and exchanging news. Neeky had been working at Terrific Teen magazine for a few months now, and had managed to get off the reception desk and into the main office. She was telling a hilarious story about trying on bright pink and yellow eye shadow for one of the feature writers, putting one shade on each eyelid, and then forgetting it was still on when she took the bus home.

“I brought your cousin some samples,” she said, holding out a pretty package to Trevor. “I remember you said she reads Terrific Teen.”

“Ta.” Trev took it with a grin. “That’ll get my points up.”

“And you, Gabs?” Dominique leaned forward. “Any news about your dad?”

Gabriella shared a quick look with Ben, then gave a nod.

“What?” Neeky reached out to grip her hand. “What did you find? And Ben knows? How come?”

Gabriella laughed. “Ben knows because I asked him to take on my case. Ruby Everett helped me find my father. And what she found was my father has a title.”

There was a moment of silence.

“You’re kidding?” Trevor frowned.

“No. I wish I were. My father got on that ship as Lord Granger, and that was exactly who he was.” She had sent a letter to her mother yesterday. She had agonized over the wording, and hoped to get some answers from her. “My uncle always said he never liked my father because he always acted like he was better than everyone else. Now I know why.”

“Where is he based?” Dominique asked.

“Sussex. Near Chichester. He has a wife and family.” Her lips twisted. “Or, not a legal wife, given I have the marriage certificate between him and my mother that predates his second marriage. And he has three kids.”

“Three kids who think they’re legitimate heirs, but who are not,” Ben added.

“Shit.” Trevor leaned back and looked over at Ben. “That’s where you come in. It’ll get ugly.”

Ben nodded. “This is going to shock the circles he runs in, and it will likely devastate his family.”

“Bloody hell, Gabs.” Neeky shook her head. “What a bastard.”

“The thought of how long my mother has held off getting into a new relationship, wondering what happened to him, and there he is, married with three kids.” Gabriella had known that was likely, if he wasn’t dead, but now that she had the actual proof, it was enraging.

“Well, congratulations,” Trevor said. “You did it.”

She nodded. She should feel elated. She thought she would be, if she ever succeeded. But she wasn’t. She felt angry and sad and sick to her stomach.

Careful what you wish for , her aunt had murmured to her when she was saying goodbye to everyone at the Melbourne docks.

Gabriella had understood the warning, but she had thought helping her mother move forward would be worth it.

She still believed that, but it came with a price that was higher than she’d ever imagined.

She wondered if she wanted to see her father in person, and lifted her shandy as Trevor declared a toast to her success. She would put that decision off for another day, she decided as she forced a smile onto her face and took a drink. There would most likely be more than enough time to decide.

They all left together, walking out into a dense fog that had gathered while they’d been in the pub.

Ben coughed. “These pea soupers are happening more and more often,” he said when he got his breath back.

“The one a couple of weeks ago was the worst,” Neeky said. “I was coming home, and I literally couldn’t see my hand in front of my face.”

Gabriella had worked an early shift the day it was really bad, so she’d been home before things got too dangerous. Last night, though, it had been bad for quite a while before the wind came up and started to lighten it.

This morning, when she’d worked the early Saturday shift, it had still been hanging in the air, although a wispy and insubstantial shadow of what it had been the night before.

Ben coughed again.

“You going to be all right?” she asked.

“Yes.” He waved it off. “But I think it’s time for me to get home.”

He and Trev needed to go in the same direction, so they walked her and Dominique to the bus stop and then headed off together.

Gabriella could hear Ben’s cough fade into the distance as she and Dominique stood huddled under the bus shelter.

“I’m proud of you, Gabs. You’ve done what you set out to do.” Neeky tucked her hand into the crook of Gabriella’s elbow.

“Not quite. But at least I’ve found him. There’s a very small chance everyone has got it wrong, and it’s not him, but . . .”

“But you don’t think so?” Dominique asked.

“No.” There were too many coincidences for him to be anyone else. “But it’s going to get ugly, just like Trevor said. I’m going to be upending a family’s peaceful life, and even though it’s my father’s fault, I bet most of them are going to blame me.”

“They’d be wrong to, but . . . yes. You’re the stranger, and he’s their dad or husband. And they’re going to lose a lot because you’ve popped up.” Dominique gripped her arm harder as the bus pulled up, hurrying them both up the stairs and out of the fog and cold.

They sat near the front on the lower level, taking the first two seats together they could find on the packed bus. “Everyone’s calling an early night, what with this weather,” Dominique said, looking around. “It’s horrendous, and I heard on the radio at work yesterday that they’re afraid there’ll be a few more really bad ones before this is over.”

It was horrendous. Gabriella looked out at the gray smoke that swirled around the window, impenetrable and slightly otherworldly. There was a pall over the city, a choking, polluted cloud, and she wished suddenly for the uncomplicated, blue skies of home.

“Do you miss Melbourne?” she asked Dominique as the bus driver changed gear and jerked her in her seat.

“I miss the weather. God. I really miss the weather. But the independence is gold, Gabs. Priceless.” Dominique rested her head on Gabriella’s shoulder, her blonde hair tickling Gabriella’s nose.

“That’s true.” She had not liked the pressure to marry a good Italian boy and have babies. Not at all. “They would have fifty fits if I brought James home with me.”

“What do you mean? You haven’t even brought him home to us .” Dominique lifted her head and turned, face showing exaggerated outrage. “And best you do, young lady. I demand to meet this person.”

Gabriella laughed. “I’ve meant to so many times, but it’s so hard to say when he is and isn’t working. Why don’t we organize a picnic in Hyde Park on a Sunday afternoon, unless it’s raining? If James can make it, all good. If he can’t, it will still be fun.”

“And what if it is raining?” Dominique asked.

“Then we go down the pub.” Gabriella shrugged.

“Deal. I’ll send a note to Trev, you send one to Ben, find a date that works. I’m curious as a cat about your man.” Dominique had gone out a lot since she’d moved to London, but no one had lasted more than a few dates. They wanted to go too far, too fast, she’d told Gabriella. And some got ugly when she pulled the brakes.

“It’s like they think they’re entitled to my body in exchange for a meal of fish and chips,” Dominique had told Gabriella, outraged. “Like I can’t buy my own bloody fish and chips. Like that’s all I’m worth. No thank you.”

It was a strange new world from the one their parents had grown up in. Boundaries were being pushed, but both Gabriella and Dominique didn’t see why they should be forced into anything they didn’t like or want.

“Some of the girls don’t have enough self-confidence to say no,” Dominique told her. “I see it at work. They try to pass it off as being hip, but they look a little lost.”

The bus turned a corner, pushing them both up against the window, and Dominique got to her feet. “This is me.”

Gabriella often got out with her and walked her home, then walked home herself, but tonight, staying in the bus seemed like the sensible option.

They hugged goodbye and Gabriella watched the fog swallow Dominique up in a single gulp as she stepped out into the night.

“Filthy tonight, it is,” the bus driver said to her as he pulled the doors closed. “Where you getting out, love?”

“Notting Hill,” she told him. Taking this bus meant she and Dominique could travel most of the way together, but it dropped her off at the far end of Notting Hill. Not her usual route.

Still, the slightly longer walk was worth the extra time with Neeky.

When the bus reached her stop, she stepped out into slightly yellow-tinged smog, and the sulfur smell caught her in the back of her throat. She lifted her scarf around her mouth as she coughed her way across the street and started walking home.

A breeze began to swirl around her as she walked, clearing the way ahead almost perfectly and then sweeping the fog around her to obscure absolutely everything again.

She kept her eyes on the ground and almost walked straight into a light pole, jerking back just in time. She stood still for a moment, getting her heart beat under control, and suddenly the way cleared again, the breeze parting the yellow smoke so that she was looking straight at a dark green Jaguar, parked facing away from her, three houses down from her building.

She could just make out the number plate, and it was the same as the one she’d seen the other day, outside of headquarters.

She stood, rooted to the spot for a moment, fear a tingling, crawling spider on her skin.

She shuddered. He was watching her house.

How had he known where she lived?

She would have to work that out later. Right now, she needed to decide what to do.

Confront him, or slip around the back way and come into the building from the rear courtyard?

She knew if she snuck in, she would be aware of him lurking out here, watching.

The thought of it was unbearable.

So, confront, then.

She gripped her bag strap a little tighter, and tried to bolster herself with the memory of how quickly he’d run away last time. Although, this time he wasn’t in front of the traffic warden’s headquarters on a work day afternoon. He was on an empty, fog-darkened street, late at night.

He might be braver this time.

Then she’d have to be braver, too.

She walked forward, and as she did, the fog enveloped her again. She reached the passenger window, on the pavement side, and rapped hard against the glass.

She had the sense of him starting within—perhaps he’d been asleep—and then she opened the door, half expecting it to be locked. But it wasn’t. It swung open, and she bent a little, staring straight at him.

“What are you doing here?” She was proud her voice wasn’t as thin and high as she was afraid it would be. “Why are you watching me?”

He was shocked. She could see it on his face in the weak interior light that had come on when she’d opened the door.

“Well?” She narrowed her eyes.

She saw the moment he decided to bluster—his gaze slid to the side and then back to her, and he sat a little straighter. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, missy.”

She laughed in his face. “You know full well. So let’s hear it, why are you following me? And how did you find out where I live?”

He lunged toward her, and she stumbled back, but he was simply going for the door. He pulled it shut, locked it, and started the car.

She stood on the pavement, wondering what she could do, when Solomon suddenly appeared in front of the car’s bumper.

Jerome seemed to materialize out of the fog beside her, and George was on the driver’s side.

The man had locked the passenger door, but he hadn’t locked the driver’s door, and George pulled it open, reached in and switched the engine off.

For a beat there was absolute silence and then Gabriella walked around to stand next to George.

“The lady asked you a question,” George said.

Mr. Green Jag seemed to fold in on himself, eyes darting all over the place. “Let me go.”

“Not until you answer the question.” Solomon rapped his knuckles on the front bumper. “Can’t be too hard, now can it?”

“I just wanted to have a word with her,” Mr. Jag mumbled. “Warn her not to say anything.”

“Looked like you were running away to me,” George said.

“I decided it was a mistake to approach her this way,” Mr. Jaguar said.

“Say anything about what?” Gabriella asked, pushing aside the fact that he was talking to George, ignoring her standing right there.

“About where I was when you fined me.” Mr. Jag snapped out the sentence, finally looking at her.

“To who?” She lifted her hands, baffled.

He was silent for a moment. “My wife,” he said eventually.

“How would your wife even know to ask me?” Gabriella asked.

“Not her personally.” Mr. Jag sneered as he said it, lifting his nose slightly. “But she’s hired someone to look into it. The Jag’s in her name, and she got the fine. Well, not at first, I saw it come in and I threw it away. But somehow one got through before I could ditch it. And she suspects I intercepted the others, so now she’s suspicious.”

“And she told you this?” Gabriella asked, flummoxed. What lives did these people live?

“No.” Again, the condescending sneer. “I overhead the conversation she had with the private detective on the phone.”

“Picked up the receiver in another room, did you?” Solomon asked, with an amused grin.

Mr. Jaguar gave him a cold look, then turned his head to glare at Gabriella. “Never mind. Just keep your mouth shut, you hear?”

“Or what?” George asked softly.

For a moment, Mr. Jaguar was quiet.

“Man asked you a question,” Solomon said. “Or what?”

As if aware of the dangerous ground he was walking, he suddenly shook his head. “Never mind.”

“You don’t come back here,” Solomon said. “And if you do, understand this. You mess with our friend, you mess with us. And, Mr. High and Mighty, you don’t want to mess with us.”

George stepped back, and Mr. Jaguar closed the door probably harder than he meant to, started the engine, and then, when Solomon stepped onto the pavement, rode off in a screech of tires.

“Thank you. Really. That was so great of you.” Gabriella nudged George. “I was really nervous.”

“Didn’t stop you confronting him,” George said.

She shrugged. “I considered creeping in the back way, not speaking to him, but I’d have known he was out here, lurking, and I wanted to find out what was going on.”

“Next time, come find us,” Solomon said. “But I respect you for fighting your own battles.”

She blew out a breath. “And hopefully, thanks to you three, that’s one battle won.”