the afternoon lurking in a wet hedge. It was probably one of the reasons Savannah Hudson had chosen to hide out in this cottage. Honestly, these camera-shy celebrities were so selfish.
Having parked in Nailsworth, Gabe stocked up in the bakery with a selection of pies and cakes to keep him going and stave off the tedium. He put a can of Coke and a bottle of water in the pockets of his Barbour. Back at the car he took out his camera, careful to keep it hidden from view, and slung it around his neck under the waxed jacket. Please God, make today the day he got a decent shot and could prove to Colin he wasn’t a complete waste of space.
Two hours later Gabe had cramp in his legs. He was going out of his mind with boredom. It would be getting dark soon, he’d eaten all his food and it was obvious Savannah Hudson wasn’t going to emerge from the cottage. The only good thing about the afternoon was that the pies from the bakery had been excellent.
Bugger, he wasn’t going to be able to impress Colin after all. Unless he knocked on the door of the cottage, fell to his knees and begged Savannah Hudson to take pity on him. Maybe she would, and he could just take a couple of quick faux-candid shots .. .
What the hell, it was worth a try. He unfolded his long legs, brushed himself down and headed for the cottage. There was definitely someone inside, he could see their outline through the drawn curtains as they moved about in the lit-up living room.
Putting on his most charming face — the one that didn’t seem to be getting a lot of use these days — Gabe braced himself and rat-tatted the black wrought-iron knocker.
The door was opened by a middle-aged woman in a purple velour tracksuit, clutching a duster and a can of lemon Pledge.
‘Oh, hi,’ charming smile, charming smile, ‘I’m here to see Savannah.’
‘Sorry, duck, she’s not here. Friend of hers, are you?’
Gabe knew he should say yes, then he might be invited into the cottage. He sighed inwardly; this was why he was so crap at this job. ‘No, not a friend exactly ...’
‘Off you go then, duck.’ The woman’s expression changed. ‘Wait, do you know when she might be back?’
‘Maybe tomorrow or the day after. Bye.’ The door was closed • firmly in his face.
That was that then. If the woman had been lying and Savannah Hudson was inside the house, she wouldn’t be coming out now. Terrific. No photos and it was starting to rain. He may as well get back to the car before the heavens opened. At least it was downhill.
As he set off down the lane, Gabe tried to work out what time he’d be home. His social life had taken a serious nosedive lately, what with work and having to look after Sallythe-whingeing-cripple and getting over the whole bloody soul-destroying business with Jaydena. Maybe a night off was what he needed, a few hours of mindless drinking and clubbing with old friends, chatting up girls, possibly even getting some long-overdue sex ... Ha, so long as they could go back to her place, because if he brought someone home to Radley Road they were bound to be interrupted in mid-shag by Sally banging on the wall that separated their bedrooms, bleating, ‘Gabe, I’m really thirsty and my leg hurts too much for me to get out of bed, could you bring me a glass of water pleeease?’
Oh yes, her leg was definitely a pain. The only good thingabout it as far as Gabe was concerned was that having Sally physically confined to the sofa all day meant the mess she created was confined to that area. The rest of the flat, practically undisturbed, was really quite tidy and Bloody hell.
Having rounded a bend, Gabe saw a figure hurrying up the lane towards him with a bag of shopping in one hand and a dog on a lead in the other. His brain shot into overdrive as he took in the oversized jacket, the skinny legs in skinnier jeans, the blonde head almost hidden beneath the hood of the jacket and the thick grey scarf wound round her neck. .. Bloody hell, it was her, Savannah Hudson was heading straight for him, this was his big chance.
Then her head tilted up and she saw him, her actress’s antennae on instant alert. As her hood blew back she stopped in her tracks, like a deer hearing the click of the hunter’s rifle. Gabe, already reaching for the camera slung around his neck, realised she was about to bolt and called out, ‘Please, could I just take one picture of—’
But the wind whipped his words away. Savannah was backing off, dragging the dog with her.
The dog, a black and tan Jack Russell, began barking furiously, leaping up on its back legs.
Tugging harder to keep it under control, Savannah almost dropped her bag of shopping. Then a ferocious blast of wind knocked her off balance and sent her staggering sideways into the verge.
She let out a shriek of alarm as the hedge bordering the lane bent and swayed, grasping at her with branches like mad spiky fingers.
‘Look, I’m sorry,’ Gabe yelled above the noise of the wind, advancing towards her. ‘I just wanted to ..
The words faded in his throat and he stopped dead, gazing in disbelief as the furiously waving branches clawed at her hair and, having yanked it free, waved it like an ecstatic contestant on Supermarket Sweep. Savannah Hudson let out a whimper of anguish and dropped the shopping as she attempted to shield her exposed head – click – from Gabe. Letting go of the dog’s lead, she used her other hand to grasp helplessly – click click – at the blonde wig caught up on the spiky branches.
Jesus Christ, she was as bald as an egg. This was a major scoop, bigger even than his petrol station expose of Tom Dutton and Jessica Lee. Appalled, Gabe hastily sidestepped as the dog raced up to him barking furiously.
‘Sshh, it’s OK, don’t do that.’ Reaching down, he grabbed the dog’s lead before a car could come along and mow it down. Together they made their way over to the verge where Savannah Hudson was still battling to free the wig. It was a hawthorn hedge and the spikes were needle-sharp. Tears swam in her eyes and she ducked her face away at Gabe’s approach, flinching as a thorn scratched her wrist.
‘Here, let me. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I’ll do it,’ said Gabe. ‘You just hold the lead.’
‘Please,’ her voice broke, ‘just leave me alone. Bunty, shh.’
Bunty, what a name for the world’s yappiest terrier. The yaps were actually making his ears hurt.
Ignoring the scratches his hands were amassing, Gabe grimly disentangled strands of hair from the vicious branches and finally managed to liberate the blonde wig, although it did look as if it had just been dragged through a ... no, no, definitely not the moment to make a joke.
‘Thank you.’ Tears slid down Savannah Hudson’s white face; angrily she dashed them away.
