all that but, yeuch, I have to say she sounds a complete nightmare to live with. Plus, she’ll be relieved to see the back of you.’
‘Say, listen—’
‘So, talk about tough decisions, is it going to be picking used tea bags out of the sink in a disgusting bombsite of a flat in Notting Hill, or being waited on hand and foot by the live-in staff at an eight-bedroomed mock-Grecian mansion in Bel Air, complete with home cinema and infinity pool?’
Gabe looked at her and said nothing. He didn’t need to; Savannah read it in his eyes.
Finally, hesitantly, she said, ‘So ... is that a no?’
He nodded. ‘Yes: Hope flared. ‘Does that mean yes it’s a no, or yes it’s not a no, it’s a yes?’
Gabe hastily shook his head. ‘Sorry. It means I can’t come to LA with you.’
‘Can’t? Or won’t?’
Oh hell, he hated it when girls got pedantic.
‘Can’t, I suppose.’ He rubbed the back of his neck. ‘I’m sorry, but it wouldn’t be fair on you.
You’re an amazing girl and I think the world of you, but there’s just ... something missing.’
‘Like, my hair?’
Shit. ‘No. God, no.’Vehemently Gabe shook his head. ‘Don’t even think that.’ Fuck, was she really thinking that?
‘It’s all right, I believe you.’ Savannah managed a ghost of a smile.
‘Well, good, because your hair has nothing to do with it. If anything I’m thinking there must be something seriously wrong with me. I mean, you’re Savannah Hudson: said Gabe. ‘And I’m nobody at all. The lowest of the low. Lower than that, even. I’m a street pap.’
She picked at a loose strip of bark on the tree trunk beside her. ‘And now you’re turning me down. Does that mean you’ll sell your story to the papers?’
‘I won’t do that. I’d never do that. You can still trust me.’ Gabe’s voice softened. He felt sorry for her. It couldn’t be easy being Savannah Hudson.
‘You know who I feel like?’ She made a brave stab at levity. ‘Like the Baroness in The Sound of Music when she gets dumped by Captain Von Trapp.’
Was this an embarrassing film to admit to being familiar with? Oh well, never mind.
‘Except I’m not about to run off with an irritating ex-nun and seven caterwauling children.’
When a shocked Lola had discovered last year that Gabe had never seen her all-time favourite film she had sat him down and forced him to watch it. Personally he’d have gone for the Baroness every time; what had Julie Andrews been on when she’d let them cut her hair like that?
Back at the cottage for what they both knew was the last time, Gabe collected together his few belongings. Upstairs, having picked up his toothbrush and aftershave, he looked around the clinical white bathroom and Savannah’s equally immaculatebedroom. He wouldn’t miss this place; for all its traditional exterior, the inside of the cottage was modern and sparsely furnished, minimalist bordering on sterile .. .
Hang on a minute. That couldn’t be right, surely? Taken aback, Gabe looked around again. He liked sterile, didn’t he? Cool, clean lines and no clutter was his thing, had always been his thing.
And this was what he was seeing here; design-wise, he and Savannah couldn’t be more perfectly matched. Yet somehow all these clean lines suddenly seemed a little bit .. . well, empty.
OK, this was too weird, like an alien invading his brain and taking over. An alien with shocking taste at that, and a predilection for gaudy knick-knacks.
Unable to face searching through pristine drawers for the dark grey sweater he knew was in here somewhere, Gabe left it and hurried down the staircase.
Savannah, pale but composed, was waiting in the kitchen with her back to the Aga.
‘So you’re off then.’
‘I should be getting back.’ Thank God she wasn’t crying. ‘Sure you don’t have a chirpy ex-nun and seven caterwauling kids waiting for you at home?’
Gabe smiled briefly. ‘Trust me, all I have is a stroppy invalid waiting to give me an earful because she asked me to pick up a box of tea bags before I left the flat last night and I forgot.’
‘And you really don’t have another girlfriend waiting on the horizon?’
‘I really don’t.’
‘I just wasn’t right for you, is that it?’
‘Hey, you’ll be perfect for someone else. You know that.’ Gabe folded her into his arms and she clung to him.
Against his chest Savannah mumbled, ‘I just have to find someone who likes bald girls. Mr Spock, maybe:
‘Don’t think like that.’ He dropped a kiss on her forehead. ‘You’re beautiful with hair or without it. Be proud.’
She smiled. ‘I’ll do my best. And if I ever decide to go public, you can be the one to take the photos.’
Gabe gave her one last kiss. One last hug. ‘Sweetheart, it’d be an honour.’
Chapter
’I don’t believe it,’ cried Sally. ‘Another living breathing human being! After months of being marooned up here all alone, I finally have the chance to speak to someone – that’s if I can remember how to speak ...’
