The Alphabet Game the Complete Alpha Series a to X, Y, Z (16 page)

My lovely friend. Still looking out for me even from Rehab. I manage three quarters of the sandwich, then I sit looking out over the water.

‘Have you ever been on the river boat?’ asks Gabe as it comes past.

‘No.’

‘I’ll have to take you.’

‘Gabe, I’ll be okay, you can go now.’

‘Oh no. I don’t think so Stella. You’re stuck with me for the whole weekend. Today we’ll hole up here, you can pick a movie later. Tomorrow we’re out of here, we can go for a walk. Maybe I’ll get you on that boat.’

I lay on the sofa and curl up. ‘A walk maybe. Not the boat. I don’t want to be around people right now.’

‘One day at a time, just think about right now.’He strokes my forehead.

‘Okay,’ I look around.

‘What are you thinking about?’

‘I’m thinking about M&Ms, I’m going to have to eat a couple.’

He grins, ‘Start with these,’ he points to a jar of red ones in the corner. As I pick them up I see they are all personalised. Each one is printed with the words ‘Gabe’s babe.’

I shake my head.

‘Too much?’

‘I am not your babe. I have no wish to be one of Gabe’s babes. How many others have there been?’

‘There’s only one Gabe’s babe,’ he says under his breath, quiet, but loud enough for me to hear.

I can’t deal with that right now though, Gabe is like a game of Snakes and Ladders, you think you’re near the top and then he undulates and you’re back at the start.

I put the television on and flick through. I find the latest series of one of my favourite programmes. ‘Do you mind if we watch Grey’s Anatomy? I like that.’

‘Me too,’ he says and comes to sit at the side of me. He doesn’t touch me, just lets me watch. As I get to the end of an episode, I just flick onto the next. Several hours pass, with pauses only for drinks.

Gabe passes me a mass of takeaway leaflets.

‘Pick something because you need to eat properly.’

I select an Indian takeaway menu and pick three different starters. ‘I’ll eat them like Tapas.’

‘Good idea.’ Gabe picks another three and orders some rice and naan bread.

‘I’ll put it out on the dining table and you can just pick what you fancy.’

I see him look at the dining table chair, I remember the last time we were there.

I turn my head away. Gabe goes to get the cutlery out.

I don’t eat vast amounts but because it’s something I like, I do better than I thought I would. I feel tired again and just want to get back in bed. Gabe hovers, looking at me and then at his coat.

‘Are you staying?’ I ask.

He nods and follows me into the bedroom.

Under the covers his warm arm curls around me, his toned bicep like a protective talisman. I feel safe.

I leave him sleeping the next morning and I head into the shower. I dry my hair and look at the bright red in the mirror. I’m not going to be able to hide away with this.

Gabe wanders in and walking behind me puts his arms around me and kisses my neck.

‘Good to see you up babe.’

I let the babe go and smile at him. ‘Yeah, I’m ready to get out of here. Get some fresh air.’

‘Get dressed then and we’ll go grab some breakfast over the Quay. Then I’ve made you an appointment.’

I tense.‘For what?’

‘Erm, I’m not going to tell you, but when we get there if you really don’t want to go in I won’t force you, okay?

‘I’m not seeing a doctor.’

‘It’s not a doctor.’

‘Good because I’m fine.’

‘Okay, I hear you. It’s not a doctor.’

Before we head down to the Quay I take Gabe for a walk around our apartment block and show him the view over the water, where the O2 arena stands proudly and you can see the cable cars at Greenwich.

‘Have you been on those?’

‘No.’

‘That’s another outing for the future then. All these opportunities on your doorstep. Have you been to the Arena?’

I shake my head.

‘Never? That’s disgraceful. You’d better look up who’s coming and decide what you want to see. Cable cars, boat trip, concert. Sound like a plan?’

‘Maybe.’

It sounds like a date, not a plan.

Breakfast eaten, we catch the Tube into Soho and Gabe leads me to a hairdressers salon.

I stare through the window.

‘What’s this about then?’

‘I want you to have your hair put back to the black it was like when we met. I want to show you that you don’t need to change yourself. You’re fine as you are. It’s the rest of us who are fucked up. In fact is there a time before that? What was your hair like at the beginning? What does the real Stella look like?’

It’s so long since I’ve seen the real me. I bite my bottom lip undecided.

‘So will you do it? Go change yourself back?’

I open the door and begin to walk inside. ‘My hair is dark brown.’

It takes hours of messing around with chemicals and deep conditioning treatments. I’m scolded for dying my hair so many times in a short period. Whilst I go through the motions Gabe heads back to his own apartment to change his clothes.

Four hours later I leave the salon. Gabe looks at me proudly.

‘You look better. Softer.’

I touch my hair, hold a piece in front of my face. Chestnut brown.

‘Can we go get something to eat?’ I ask. ‘I need to talk.’

We get settled in an Italian and order a couple of pizzas.

‘Gabe. I don’t see how ruining my stepfather is going to help me get my mother back anymore. So I’m kind of thinking of looking at courses and training to be something. Get a role for myself, you know?’

‘Stella. I get you’ve had a shock, but don’t be hasty. He’s still a blackmailing bastard, just like my father.’

His father.
Then I remember and inhale sharply.

‘What is it?’

‘Your father. That night, the one where I saw my mother. There was a school photo. They were both on it. My stepfather and your father. They knew each other at school.’

‘No you’re mistaken Stella. It was after the incident with Isabel that they met.’

‘No.’ I shout, louder than I intended. ‘I took the photo home, it’s in my apartment. I’m going to get my PI to look into it. They were there, together.’

‘But that makes no sense. Why would they pretend they’d not met before?’

‘I don’t know. There are too many unanswered questions. That’s why I’ve asked him to find Isabel. I want her take on events.’

‘If you find her. Can I come with you?’

Flashes of an unseen image of them
in flagrante
comes unbidden into my mind. My fingers tighten around my cutlery.

‘Of course. If she says it’s okay.’

Gabe picks up his drink. ‘Stella, I’ve spoken to my father. I have to go away on Monday. I’ll be gone for a week.’ His brow is creased.

I reach up and smooth the crease with my fingers. ‘I’ll be fine Gabe. I’m just going to take it steady for a week or so. Put the revenge plan on the back burner til I feel a little better.’

‘Good. Promise me you’ll not do anything without me.’

I’m torn as how to answer. I want to tell him I don’t need his permission, but I’m going to miss having him around. So much has happened between us in the short time we’ve known each other. Its like the relationships that happen in the Big Brother house, so intense and fast, a Catherine wheel relationship, liable to spin out of control at any time.

I take a drink of my coke. ‘Okay. I won’t do anything until you’re back.’

He releases a held breath,‘Great.’

‘Where are you going anyway?’

‘LA. Then in a couple of weeks I’m off to New York. I’m going to catch up with my mother while I’m there.’

New York. Couple of weeks. Hmmmm.

I feel a call to a PI is required.

Chapter 7

Once again, Gabe curls around me in bed. I run my hand down his arm, taking in the smoothness of his skin, the feel of the hairs on his forearms. I feel the indentation of a scar that he says is from a dog bite when he was younger. I carry on and caress his hands and fingers, they feel rough against the smooth pad of my own.

‘You need some of my hand cream.’

He holds his hand up. ‘Go on then. As long as it doesn’t make me smell like a girl.’

I lean over to the bedside table and get my body lotion. I pour a little onto the palm of my hand, flinching at the coolness and rub my hands together to warm it up. Then I put one of his hands between mine and massage the lotion in. I repeat with the other.

‘Mmmm that feels nice.’

‘Would you like a massage?’

‘Another skill I don’t know about Mulroney?’

‘I’m not qualified but I’m sure I can manage.’

I get him to turn onto his front and apply more lotion and rub it into his back and neck. I alternate between deep rubs and feather light touches that just reach the lower part of his back, where the bed covers just show the first hint of his well rounded ass. I put some more cream on and lower the covers, massaging those gorgeous firm glutes.

‘Ahem, massages don’t usually go below the waist.’

‘Mine does. Turn over.’

He obliges. I can see just how much he’s enjoying the massage, but I ignore it. I start again. I massage his chest, feeling the well defined pecs and abs. I tease his nipples. I do both of his arms. He sighs in relaxation. Then he sits up and pushes me into the mattress.

‘Your turn.’

He does the same. A complete repetition of what I did to him. When he’s finished I am so relaxed, I can hardly keep my eyes open. But I’m not ready for sleep.

I reach lower on his body to massage something else.

‘Are you sure?’

‘Yes, I want you.’

I stroke him and he strokes me, gentle rubs that drive us wild with desire. He gets a condom and then uses his forearms to pin himself above me. He kisses me softly on the lips and then traces kisses all up my neck, targeting my weakness, my oversensitive spot. Seriously, I’d sell my soul for more of this. I turn my head to the side allowing him easier access to kiss my throat.

He slips inside me, moving oh so slowly. I want to wrap my legs around him to force him deeper but I resist and enjoy the sensations. Slowly, in and out, all the while breaking off to kiss me. We act like we have all the time in the world and slowly work towards our climaxes which are all the sweeter for the wait. Afterwards he gathers me into his arms and kisses my forehead.

‘Shit we forgot to choose a word.’

‘No, I thought of one,’ I reply.

‘Oh yeah?’

‘Intimate. That was intimate.’

His breathing deepens, I don’t know if he heard me or not. Something’s changed between us in the last couple of days. I’m allowing this man into my life, despite my rules. I decide to worry about it in the morning when I’m not wrapped in a blanket of comforting warm flesh.

On Sunday he calls down to Cols and returns with two coffees and a selection of Danish pastries. We sit on the balcony to eat. I still don’t like it, but Gabe seems to enjoy the space, so I put up with it. I still expect to plunge to my death any minute. My nerves about being on the balcony make me chatter on, about nonsense.

Gabe moves his chair closer to mine. ‘Tell me about your Dad. About your childhood.’

My mouth drops open,‘Oh.’

I’m flustered. I’m used to keeping this coiled tightly inside. Then I think of what Gabe shared with me.

I look out over the water and begin talking.

‘I suppose the memories I have of my dad now are mainly from photos. I was only six when he died, so I don’t remember him that well. But I have these slivers of memories, you know? Like I can picture him walking past the window with a pink wooden fairy castle in his arms, and feeling so excited. I couldn’t get my mum to open the door fast enough.

He always smelled of mints. He loved polos. I can’t bear the smell of mint, I even struggle with toothpaste. How crazy is that?’

Gabe smiles and gestures for me to carry on.

‘Anyway one day he didn’t come past the window. Mum sat me down and told me the angels had taken him because he was too good to be on earth. He’d been in a car accident on the motorway.’

I look at Gabe, his eyes are full of compassion.

‘My mum cried a lot yet she kept me close, looked after me. She made sure she always took me to school and was there to pick me up. She took me all over, visits to the zoo and the beach. Every night we’d chat to Daddy in my room before I went to sleep, tell him what I’d been doing, so he’d know.’

‘That was a sweet thing to do.’