Dan’s eyes rankled Gabe. His friend’s Lothario ways usually amused him, but normal rules somehow didn’t apply when it came to Marla Jacobs.
‘Yeah, we met last week.’
‘And?’
‘Oh you know. The usual. She told me to leave the village and never darken her door again. That sort of thing.’
Dan laughed.
‘Doctor Death strikes again. You need a different job, mate.’
Gabe sighed. His difficulty lay in that, actually, he could kind of see Marla’s point. The fact was he hadn’t given any thought to the impact he might have on his new neighbours. Well, nothing beyond being mildly amused by the ironic symmetry, anyway.
Not that he’d ever expected anyone to put out the bunting and wave the welcome flags. He was more than used to the adverse reaction his profession drew from people. He’d learned many years ago that it was just about the biggest passion killer of them all to tell a girl you spend your days around dead bodies.
But Marla was in a class of her own. She was being plain unreasonable.
Surely she hadn’t thought she could issue him with his marching orders and expect him to roll over and limp out of town with his tail between his legs?
The truth was, the chapel’s unique perspective aside, this community needed him. There wasn’t a funeral director for more than forty miles, and that was plain unacceptable. The only surety in life was that one day everyone was going to die, and that alone meant that every family in this village would be better off for him being here.
And please. A Las Vegas style wedding chapel in Shropshire? It was a novelty, certainly, but it was hardly a necessity, was it? Who really used it anyway? From what he’d seen so far, he was pretty sure it wasn’t the locals.
‘Maybe she’d listen to your altogether more charming best friend instead. You know how persuasive I can be when I put my mind to it.’
Dan’s cocky grin and conspiratorial wink pushed all the wrong buttons. Unwanted memories strayed into Gabe’s head; countless girls wandering half-naked out of Dan’s bedroom on Sunday mornings when they’d shared a flat in London.
‘Stay away from her. I’ll sort this out myself, okay?’
Dan smirked, an all too knowing look in his eyes. He shrugged and opened a second bag of peanuts. ‘Suit yourself, sunshine.’
The silence between them lengthened.
‘So … whatcha gonna do about it then?’
‘No clue.’ Gabe shrugged and picked up their glasses. ‘Same again?’
He leaned against the bar and waited as the landlord placed a shot in front of a guy who looked as if he had the weight of the world on his shoulders. Gabe didn’t mind the delay. He was still trying to work out the answer to Dan’s question.
On a purely practical level, the last thing he wanted was a dispute with his neighbours. God knows he needed the goodwill of the community to help his fledgling business off the ground.
But there was a lot more to this than practicalities.
There was a far more pressing reason for Gabe to pour oil onto the troubled waters between him and Marla Jacobs.
Because the simple, inescapable truth was that from the moment Marla Jacobs had opened the chapel doors and deliberately insulted him, Gabe had known with utter certainty that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her.
It was just a shame that she couldn’t stand the sight of him then.
A few feet away from Gabe, Tom was leaning against the bar, his BlackBerry in one hand, a glass tumbler in the other. He wasn’t usually given to drinking after work, but then today wasn’t the usual kind of day. He looked from the flashing message icon on his mobile to the whisky, and after a moment’s pause he tipped the twelve year old malt down his throat. Fortified, he clicked the message open with a grimace.
Hey u!
Don’t forget we’re due at docs at 6.15. Don’t be late, receptionist is a jobsworth and don’t want to miss appt!
Luv Em xx
Yeah, he knew what a jobsworth the receptionist was. He also knew what a drama-queen Emily could be, and that she didn’t trust him to remember their appointment without reminding him at least ten times. He was starting to feel more and more backed into a corner with every passing day, and he didn’t like it one bit.
He nodded at the landlord for another whisky.
The following afternoon, Emily stepped out into the sunshine and locked the chapel doors. She lifted a hand to shield her