Darcy knows I’ve got to be up early, so she has the girls sleep in the bedroom with her. By 6 a.m. I’m dressed. I’ve packed a small suitcase, throwing in a spare pair of jeans, a top and some clean undies. I go to close the lid and then stop. I pull my red dress off its hanger, remembering the glint in Gabriel’s eyes last time I wore this. I smile to myself; the way he looked at me, or should I say leered! I run my teeth between my lips, folding the red lycra material in half. It may come in useful; well, I’d like to think so.
I decide 6:15 a.m. is too early to text, but if anyone knows where Gabriel is, Jase will. I message him that I’ve text Gabriel countless times, but as yet haven’t heard anything back. Is he staying with you? I type out on my phone. If not, have you heard from him, or do you know where he’s staying? I press send, and when I check a couple of minutes later I see that it’s been read. I run the small bristle brush through my hair, add a thin layer of waterproof mascara to my lashes and walk out of the bedroom, holding onto the handle of my case.
I was going to take a quick peek round the door into Darcy’s room, as I can’t imagine two days of not seeing the twins and would have liked to see them sleeping before I left, but I see that the door is shut and I daren’t open it for fear of waking them.
I tiptoe down the stairs, avoiding the creaks where I can. Leaning my elbows on the breakfast bar, I drink a strong mug of coffee, butter a piece of toast, and by the time I’ve finished both and glance at the kitchen clock, it’s a couple of minutes past seven. There’s no sound from upstairs. I glance at my phone, but there’s still no reply from Jason. I tap my fingers on the work surface, wondering what I should text next: I’m getting in the car in five and driving down to London. If you know where Gabriel is, please text back; I need to speak to him. I delete speak to him and type see him instead.
My intention was to drive, but as I ponder over the remainder of my coffee, I have a change of heart. If I get the train from Derby it’ll take me straight through to Euston.
It’s twelve noon, and I’m watching the man behind the bar pour my first gin and tonic and lower two ice cubes into a tall glass. I didn’t think I’d be visiting the Warwick Castle, but here I am, sitting on a bar stool staring at a line of optics. I’ve still had no message from Jase, and I’m beginning to wonder if I’ve made this journey for nothing. I chew my way through a bag of crisps, more out of boredom than anything else, and not wanting any more alcohol I wash them down with a cold glass of orange juice. I text again, this time in capital letters: I’m in the Warwick Castle waiting for your text. If I don’t hear back from you in the next five minutes, I’ll make my way along the canal to your narrowboat. One way or another, we will talk!
The power of words! I smirk, as almost instantly I receive a message back: Sorry, Tash, I didn’t text back because I don’t want to get involved. If you really must see Gabriel, make your way to Regent’s Park, you’ll find him there.
I have no idea if Gabriel’s actually there, or if he is, how he’ll react when I finally catch up with him. I reread Jase’s text as I wander through the park gates. A poignant smile lifts my lips. Last time we were here, it was summertime and I had been wearing open-toed sandals. I remember the sweet scent from the beautiful flower gardens.
Damp grass and leaves make water marks on my leather boots and the moisture seeps its way up the hem of my jeans, bringing my focus back to today and why I’m here. I glance round. There are people with dogs, and the odd rowing boat circling on the dark waters. I saunter around the lake, passing benches where I imagine Gabriel would sit. With my hand cupped above my eyebrows, I squint to the far side of the lake, but it’s too far away for me to see. My steps have slowed and I’m not walking as upright as I was before, probably due to my increasing lack of enthusiasm. I’m beginning to question whether I’ll find him here at all.
I walk a little further along a loose-stoned path that weaves its way towards a small grassed area, beyond which lie a couple of empty flower beds. My eyes widen. Mousey-brown hair, a dark denim jacket and an easel at the side of the bench where he’s sitting. My steps slow but my heart picks up pace, thumping erratically in my chest.
“Gabriel,” I whisper.
With each step I take, I lift my feet and place them down carefully. I want to make it to the bench without him hearing or seeing me. I want me being here to be a surprise, and hopefully a good one. I frown, then stare. He doesn’t look like Gabriel. He’s leaning forward, hunched over, a swirling trail of smoke drifting above his head. I edge round to the opposite end of the bench and lower myself down until I’m sitting on the cold wooden slats. My stomach is in knots; even being this close to him feels good. If I were to stretch a little and reach out my hand, I could touch him and it’s a tempting thought.
I can’t be sure if he senses me, but surely he must know that someone is close, yet he doesn’t turn and just looks straight ahead. I pass him a sideways glance, but still he appears oblivious to having company. He seems fixated on something, but I have no idea what it is because there’s nothing but an overgrown area of grass.
“Gabriel,” I mumble, but he just stares into space. “I thought you’d have kicked that filthy habit,” I mutter as he takes a long draw on a cigarette.
He slips it from between his lips, blows out and drops the nub between his feet, then crushes it beneath the heel of his shoe.
“I had quit,” he mutters back.
He straightens, pushing himself up with his hands. My fingers walk along the bench to join his, but that initial touch never happens as he clasps his hands in his lap.
“Gabriel, please, please come home,” I beg, inching closer.
I turn to face him and reach for his knee, but as my fingers touch him, his leg tenses.
“Nothing’s the same,” I choke out, “and whatever you believe, I miss you, so much.”
“Miss me?” he asks sarcastically.
He swivels round and our eyes meet. His face is unshaven and gaunt. How I’d love to launch forward and throw my arms around his neck, tell him that I want things to go back to the way they used to be, for us to be the couple we once were.
“Three people in a relationship, in the same house…” Gabriel shakes his head. “It just didn’t work. Then add into the mix that the third person was Adrianna, your sister. She called me a dad…” He laughs. “But that was all for show. She wanted me out of the way, out of the house, so thumbs up to your sister because she succeeded. She must be very pleased with herself.”
I shake my head. “It’s not that simple.”
He rolls his eyes, leans forward and rests his elbows on his knees.
“I know all about Adrianna, and I know what she’s done.”
“Do you?” He questions as he reaches up and scratches his head. “You’ve no idea what she was like. She followed me round like a dog following its master, always standing there, breathing down my neck.” Irritation bubbles over in his voice as he continues. “Admittedly I fucked up a few times, but didn’t she love it and rub it in? And you, Natasha...” He tilts his head, gazing up into my eyes. “You backed her up, sided with your sister over me. God damn it, you made me feel this big.”
He lifts his hand in front of my face, separating his thumb and index finger just slightly to make his point.
“You turn up here, expecting me to throw my arms around you and just forget how I was treated, forget that you allowed it. It’s not often I speak out, Natasha, but you’ve hurt me.” He shakes his head. “You haven’t a clue just how much.”
I grab his arm. “Gabriel, listen to me, please.”
I try to explain the way Danielle explained to me that Adrianna never realised when she agreed to carry a baby for us how she’d feel. Her hormones played a big part, and then feeling the babies kicking inside her and Logan being taken, well, that was the icing on the cake.
“Yes, I hurt you and I’m sorry for that. But I’m not having an easy ride of it myself. The parenting order needs drawing up and signing, but my sister won’t even talk about it.” My eyes blur with tears. “I could lose them, Gabriel, I could lose them both, and with the law on her side, where does that leave me?” I sniff. “Please, if not for me, then do it for the twins. Come back, come home. Help me, Gabriel, please, help me keep our babies.”
He rubs his hand down his face, pulling at his lips, and then he’s back staring into space. My heart’s pounding. I’ve laid everything on the line, and now all I can do is sit and wait, hoping that he agrees to give us a second chance.
Something catches my eye and I turn. A squirrel scurries down the trunk of an oak tree set back from the empty flower beds, coming surprisingly close to our bench, and then sits up on its hind legs. From the angle it tilts its head, I imagine that it’s watching us. I smile as its whiskers twitch and its tail bobs, then it takes off into the long grass. A welcome interruption to the heavy mood hanging between the two of us.
“Maybe I will come back,” Gabriel pipes up, grabbing my attention. “But if I do, don’t go reading too much into it.”
He throws his arm over the back of the bench and stretches his legs.
“If me coming back manages to get one over on that sister of yours, and makes damn sure the right things get done, then yes, I will come back with you.” He puffs out his cheeks. “As for us…” He shakes his head. “I’m afraid there are no promises. I guess we’ll just have to take each day as it comes.”
As we get up to leave, Gabriel folds his easel and places it under the bench. I peer at his phone as he texts Jase, asking if he’ll come and pick it up. Curious, I walk round and turn a page to see what he’s been sketching, but there’s not even a scribble on his art paper. I frown and ask him why. He half smiles and shrugs it off, blaming it on his mood and the time of year.
I never stayed the two days I planned to, and instead we headed straight home.
The train journey back to Derby is strange, as though I’m having a conversation with someone I’ve only just met. Gabriel’s eyes are down, browsing through a local newspaper, picking snippets from the sports pages which are of little interest to me. While waiting for our taxi home he’s a little more talkative, but he seems more interested in people watching. I feel empty, almost hollow inside. I hadn’t realised the damage I’d caused; maybe not knowingly, but I can’t deny that I allowed it to happen.
The front door opens to Darcy’s smile, and she throws her arms around Gabriel’s waist. His arms almost swallow her up as he hugs her back. With her short dark hair and petite frame, she looks more elfin like than she does a 27-year-old woman.
She peers round Gabriel’s waist and raises her eyebrows.
“Your trip was worthwhile then?”
I shrug. “Guess so.”
She puts her finger to her lips as we walk into the hall to let us know the girls are asleep in the lounge. I offer her a drink, but she says she needs to get off, as it’s only a couple of days until her interview and she’s got plenty to sort out. As I walk into the kitchen to make a hot drink, she runs up the stairs. Very quietly I take my coffee into the lounge and kneel down on the floor next to Larry, who’s wagging his tail, very pleased to see me. I watch the girls sleeping for a little while, hoping that Gabriel might join me.
Larry follows me back into the kitchen, and I hold the door of the dishwasher open.
“Bye, Tash, and good luck.”
I turn upon hearing Darcy’s voice and frown.
“Good luck?”
“His clothes, Tash, well, what’s left of them,” she whispers, “he’s seen the bags. He’s emptied them out and has been sorting through all his bits and pieces.” She laughs.
I roll my eyes. “Good old Adrianna.”
Then it hits me that anything he owns still worth wearing is on Jase’s narrowboat. He wasn’t in the best of moods when we arrived home, so I can only imagine the mood he’s in now. I thank Darcy for staying to look after the twins and she says she enjoyed it, and that if she got the job, she’d let me know.
I check on the girls, but neither is stirring. Checking the time, I see that I’ve got about another hour until their next feed.
When I reach the top of the stairs, the landing is partially blocked by the loft ladder, which has been pulled down. I glance up, almost slipping on the top stair as a grey hessian bag comes hurtling my way, followed by an old-fashioned brown holdall. I can’t help but frown; it’s the sort of bag my nan kept in her cloakroom full of creams and boxes of plasters.
Gabriel’s feet appear and then his face.
“Cobwebs,” he snaps, brushing himself down.
My mouth falls open.
“You may well ask, or should I say you should ask that scissor-happy sister of yours. Lucky really, I was in two minds about throwing this lot out.”
He secures the loft hatch, grabs both bags and walks past our bedroom, continuing into the spare room where he drops them onto the bed. I watch him as he begins to unbuckle two thick grey straps, unrolling and flattening out a casual shirt and jacket. He looks back over his shoulder to where I’m standing just outside the door.
“Natasha, I imagine you have plenty to do downstairs, and if not, I don’t mean to sound rude, but I don’t need an audience while I unpack a few clothes.”
“Don’t need an audience?” I mutter, walking away.
The back of my throat is burning, and I’m not sure whether it’s from anger or because I’m upset. I know things aren’t great between us, but it never crossed my mind that we wouldn’t be sharing a bed.
My mind takes me back to the bench in Regent’s Park, when he said he could make no promises and that we’d have to take each day as it comes.
Back in my room, I sink down on my side of the bed, lashing out with my feet at the cut-up carnage scattered over the carpet. Gabriel seems so at ease with acting like strangers, whereas I feel so God damn uneasy. I squeeze the quilt between my fingers and gaze into the dressing table mirror. I know I’ve got some making up to do and there’s no quick fix to our relationship, but how can I make up with someone who seems unwilling to give me a second chance? I close my eyes and lie back, letting the soft pillow take the awful weight my head has been carrying around.
My sister and I used to be close. Yes, we had our fights, awful ones at times, but then what sisters don’t? Then I bring to mind her behaviour since having the twins and how she’s changed and turned against me. I feel like I hardly know her now. I run my fingers over my eyebrows and sink down further into the mattress.
I’m smiling at the thought of Gabriel. I think back to before his eye operation. He was so different, in a special way, and we had something good together. It wasn’t just me, all my family could see it; we just worked. But lying here, there’s not one happy thought passing through my mind. I can’t rest or settle, and I’m left feeling unsure if Gabriel or Adrianna can still be a part of my life.
I’ve fed the twins and am sitting cross-legged on the lounge carpet rocking Iris-Mae, while Harper, who’s a wriggler and is not happy lying still, is on a pink fleecy blanket. I smile down at her making sweet gurgling sounds and kicking her legs.
Gabriel walks into the room, and I glance up and smile. It might just be me being paranoid, but he doesn’t meet my eyes and looks over my head, not even glancing towards the girls. He picks up his keys from the mantelpiece and mumbles that he’s popping out. I don’t hear where he’s going, and picking up on his mood I decide not to question him.