He walked the length of the bar, pulled up a stool two seats away from where she was sitting, and peeled off the long leather coat he was wearing to reveal a beautifully tailored suit. When he ordered a glass of champagne, his voice seemed to trickle like warm liquid over her.
Suddenly she was thinking about hanging around. Just a little longer. She fingered her empty glass. That was when the man turned and gave her a smile that sent a frisson through her whole body.
‘I’ve always hated drinking alone,’ he said. His tone was gentle and warm. Kirsty could feel the envious looks of the women at the table.
She nodded.
‘Care to join me?’ he asked.
She said that she would. He ordered a bottle of champagne, introduced himself as Gabriel. When he asked her what she did, she blushed and said she was an actress.
‘Not a very successful one,’ she added, and told him about the few bit roles she’d had, mainly TV, and her failed audition that afternoon. ‘That’s why I’m here,’ she explained. ‘Feeling rather sorry for myself.’
He gave her that shattering smile again. ‘I believe in synchronicity, Kirsty.’ He took out his card and slipped it into her hand.
‘Topaz Productions?’ She looked up at him, blinking.
‘I’m an executive producer,’ he said. ‘And the funny thing is, we’re just about to go into production with a film project I’ve been developing, and the lead actress just dropped out.’ He told her the name. It was a famous one. ‘But I must tell you, I never considered her quite right for the part. I was looking for someone like you.’
The champagne just seemed to be slipping down. Kirsty was getting heady. It didn’t seem to affect Gabriel. He ordered another bottle. ‘It’s exquisite, is it not?’
‘I like the way you talk,’ she said. ‘You’re not like other men.’
‘Maybe I’m old fashioned,’ he said.
‘I like it. Where are you from? I can’t place your accent.’
He smiled. ‘All over.’
‘Tell me more about the film.’
‘Do you have a little time?’
She thought about Steve. Screw him. ‘Plenty,’ she said.
He paid the bill, leaving the half-empty bottle without a second glance, and she followed him out of the Dorchester. The night was cool and fresh, and the moon was full over London. He walked her towards a car that was lower and sleeker than any sports car she’d ever seen before.
‘Wow. What kind of car is this?’
‘It’s the fastest car in the world,’ he told her as he opened the gull-wing door for her. The driver’s seat was in the middle, like a racing car. Kirsty climbed a little uncertainly into the passenger seat positioned just behind and to the side. The car felt very low down. Gabriel settled in behind the wheel, flashed another brilliant smile and started up the engine with a rasping roar.
In what seemed like no time at all, they were hurtling down the motorway heading out of the city.
‘Henley?’ she said when he told her where he lived. ‘That’s in Oxfordshire.’
‘It won’t take us long in this,’ he said. As the car accelerated and Kirsty felt herself pressed back in her seat, she watched the surreal climb of the speedometer.
150…180…190. She blinked, laughed, dizzy from the champagne.
‘Do you know how fast you’re going?’
‘I can go faster, if you wish.’
‘Aren’t you worried about the police?’
He turned. ‘Should I be?’
‘What if they stop us?’
‘Then I shall simply kill them,’ he shrugged casually.
She laughed again. ‘You’re such a joker, Gabriel.’ He obviously had enough money to bribe his way out of any kind of trouble, she thought.
‘I never joke,’ he replied.
As he’d promised, it wasn’t long before they were speeding through the country lanes of south Oxfordshire. He pulled up at the high gates of what looked to Kirsty like a huge estate. The gates opened automatically, and the car rumbled on through them and up a long, winding driveway.
She was babbling with excitement as they pulled up outside the house. ‘This is where you live?’
‘Not all of the time. I have homes in several places.’ He killed the engine, climbed out and opened her door for her, taking her hand to lead her across the gravel.
‘I’ve had too much to drink,’ she giggled. As he led her inside the grand hallway, she asked him, ‘Do you live here alone?’
‘Some of my family also reside here. My sister Lillith is here at the moment. You may meet her.’
Kirsty’s head was spinning with more than champagne as he ushered her through the house.
‘This is the library,’ he said. She looked around her at the enormous oak-panelled room, the ornate coved ceiling, the towering bookcases filled with antique leather-bound volumes, the gleaming grand piano in the corner. A fire was crackling brightly in a marble fireplace.
‘Would you care for another drink?’ he asked.
‘Why not?’ What the hell. She thought about Steve again, and smiled to herself.
Sweet revenge.
Gabriel graciously excused himself. Alone in the library, she went over to one of the bookcases and ran her fingers across the polished wood. She opened one of the glass doors and selected a book at random. Carefully flipping open the cover, she saw it was Milton’s Paradise Lost. She wondered how old it was.
‘Very old indeed,’ said Gabriel’s voice, making her jump.
‘You startled me.’
He smiled. ‘It was unintentional. I apologise.’ He was carrying a heavy silver tray with a bottle of Krug and two slim flutes.
‘This is more champagne than I’ve ever had before,’ she said. She sipped her drink as Gabriel walked over to the piano. His hands descended delicately on the keys, and he began to play.
‘That’s beautiful,’ she murmured.
‘Composed by someone I once knew. His name was Frederick. Frederick Chopin.’
Kirsty frowned. ‘Isn’t he, like, dead? As in, dead a long time?’
Gabriel made no reply. He went on playing, and the powerful, melancholic music filled the room. As she listened, Kirsty wandered back over to the bookcase and found one by someone she recognised, Jane Austen. She opened it carefully and saw it was signed by the author.
‘This is an amazing collection of books, Gabriel,’ she said. ‘Some of these must be terribly rare.’
He abruptly stopped playing and stood up. Picked his glass off the piano and sipped it as he walked over to her. ‘Just little things I’ve acquired on my travels,’ he said. He reached past her and slipped a book off a shelf. ‘Like this one. Turgenev. First edition. It’s extremely valuable.’ He weighed the book in his hand, then flung it in the fire. It burst open and curled and blackened as the flames devoured it.
She stared at him.
‘Just words,’ he said. ‘The truth is, Kirsty, I have little love for human culture. It amuses me for a while, but ultimately I find it vacuous and oafish.’ He stepped closer to her and touched the skin of her shoulder. ‘So soft,’ he said. ‘I could have a coat made out of you.’
‘You’re crazy,’ she giggled. He leaned in slowly to kiss her. She felt the cool press of his lips on hers, and responded. She was breathless by the time he broke the embrace.
‘Do you have a husband, a boyfriend?’
‘Never mind him,’ she breathed.
‘So fickle. Frailty, thy name is woman.’
She went to kiss him again, but he stopped her. ‘I’d like to see you in costume,’
he said.
‘Costume?’
‘For the role you’re going to play. Lillith will take you up to the dressing room.
