into her chair.
‘Aaah. That sort of personal.’
She reached for another biscuit.
‘Go on then.’
‘It’s … well …’ Gabe faltered under Dora’s bated-breath attention. ‘It’s about Marla, actually.’
He watched Dora closely for signs after his revelation; she was fond of Marla and he expected her to be shocked. Protective, even.
Dora, however, just nodded without even the slightest flicker of surprise.
‘I’ve been around for a long time, lad, and I’ve got eyes in my head.’
Gabe grimaced.
‘Jesus, I feel like a schoolboy. Is it that obvious?’
Dora shook her head.
‘Only to a nosy old bat like me. So how bad is it?’
‘Oh, it’s as bad as it gets. I love her.’
Dora went slack-faced with alarm.
‘You love her? Steady on, lad. I mean …’ her eyes lingered on the wedding photos on the table.
Gabe couldn’t really blame her for questioning his feelings, given his newly revealed track record.
‘It’s nothing like that.’ He nodded towards the photos. ‘I had no clue what love was back then.’
He glanced over towards the chapel.
‘But I do now. Love is five foot six with wild red hair and crazy shoes, and I just want to look at her and never look away again.’
Dora’s sniffed and routed around in her apron pocket for a tissue.
‘It probably sounds stupid, but I knew it the moment I met her. BOOM. Just like that. She’s it for me. Marla’s the one.’
Gabe grinned. It was a heady relief to say it out loud.
‘Then just get your backside over there and tell her, lad.’
Gabe shook his head with a snort of derision. She made it sound so simple.
‘You know what she thinks of me, Dora. Especially after we...’
‘After you what?’ Dora leaned across the desk with narrowed eyes. She didn’t miss a trick.
Gabe fished around for a delicate way to phrase ‘after we had mind-blowing sex in her back garden for hours.’
‘We kind of spent her birthday together, if you understand my meaning.’
Dora’s eyebrows sprang up into her grey curls.
‘I see.’
‘But then, all that stuff in the paper came out, and now she won’t even look at me.’
Dora shook her head regretfully. ‘You did look rather sleazy, Gabriel.’
Gabe sighed. ‘I know. So here’s the thing. I’ve come up with a bit of a plan, but I can’t do it without help.’
He reached out and held her hand.
‘Without your help.’
He knew from the excitement that twinkled in her elderly eyes that he’d just gained himself an accomplice.
Outside the office door, Melanie flattened herself against the wall, listening to each poisonous word with her eyes screwed shut. Her fingernails bit into her palms as she balled her hands into tight little fists at her side.
Why were all men such stupid fucking idiots?
Gabriel had seemed so different.
How dare he? He was just like the rest of them. He didn’t see her either.
She’d been so sure, yet here he was confessing his undying love for Marla fucking Jacobs.
A couple of months back she’d had both Rupert and Gabriel eating out of her hand, and now both had tossed her out of their hearts as carelessly as yesterday’s newspaper.
Chapter Thirty-Five
Like most plans, Gabe’s was fraught with the potential for disaster.
The main challenge with this particular plan was timing; he required a morning when Marla was going to be alone in the chapel.
He definitely didn’t want an audience.
Dora had proved herself to be an excellent inside spy, and a long three weeks later she confirmed that Operation M was good to go. Jonny and Emily were safely squirreled away across the other side of Shropshire at a wedding fayre, and Marla would be holding the fort on her own at the chapel.
Gabe hovered inside the funeral parlour at just after 7.00 a.m. on the morning in question. Autumn had well and truly blown into Beckleberry over the last few weeks. There was a sepia wash of leaves across the High Street as he kept watch for Dora.
He stuck his head outside again and scanned the deserted street.
Nothing.
Where was she?
A frown ploughed tramlines across his brow. There was no way Dora would have forgotten, she’d taken to espionage disturbingly well; he’d had to strain to catch her whispered instructions on the phone the previous day, even though there was only Ivan around to hear her and he was half deaf at the best of times.
‘Seven o’clock sharp,’ she’d said.
He checked his watch again.
7.12 a.m.
She was cutting it fine; at this rate Marla would be here before she was. He huffed in exasperation. Where the hell was she? She wasn’t the type to oversleep; he’d