Jill Mansell - Chapter 1

He half smiled, accepting her decision. ‘Fair enough. That’s absolutely your prerogative.’ He paused, then added with a complicit glint in his eye, ‘It might have been fun though.’

Amused, Blythe showed him to the front door. ‘I daresay. I’m just not curious enough to need to find out.’

‘Mum? Hello?’ Lola’s voice snapped Blythe back to the present. ‘What are you daydreaming about now?’

OK, probably best not to say sex with your father. ‘Sorry, love, just wondering whether Malcolm would like a nice book about World War Two for his birthday next week. He likes that sort of thing.’

‘I thought you’d decided to buy him a sweater.’

‘Oh, I already have. A lovely stripy red and yellow one with an eagle on the front.’

In that case, better come with me.’ Lola steered her in the direction of the history section.

‘Sounds like poor old Malcolm’s going to need a book about World War Two to cheer him up.’

The weather had taken a distinct turn for the better in the last week; temperatures rose and the sun shone, drying out the ground and encouraging the first primroses to peek through the tangled undergrowth. Avoiding the public footpaths where they might bump into other walkers, Gabe and Savannah - strolled arm in arm through the woods on the hill below Minchinhampton Common. Savannah was talking about her experiences of working with other actors and the fights that ensued when they discovered their co-stars had negotiated bigger Winnebagos than they had. Even when you were an A-lister, evidently, size mattered.

. he said if he couldn’t have one as big as George’s, he was walking off the set. And the director said from what she’d heard— whoops.’

‘Careful’ Gabe caught Savannah as she tripped over a tree root.

‘All strong and masterful. I love being rescued by you.’

‘Don’t need any more invalids in my life just now. One woman crashing around on crutches is plenty, thanks.’

Savannah gazed up at him then reached up and pulled his head down to meet hers. There was new urgency in her kiss. Finally she let go and leaned back again, her chest heaving and her eyes almost feverishly bright. ‘Gabe, come with me:

‘Come where?’ Gabe hesitated, he couldn’t help himself; did she mean back to the cottage for yet more unbridled sex? He was as heterosexual as the next man but his heart sank slightly at the prospect. He wasn’t sure he had the energy for another bout.

‘To LA.Why not? We want to be together, don’t we?’ Savannah gripped the sleeves of his faded blue sweatshirt. ‘Well, what’s to stop us?’

‘Hang on, you mean Los Angeles? In California?’ It was necessary to ask. Gabe had learned this lesson the hard way years ago when he’d asked a girl if she wanted to go to Grease with him and she’d joyfully assumed he was inviting her on holiday. For all he knew, LA could be the name of some ubertrendy new London restaurant.

Savannah beamed. ‘No, Los Angeles in Iceland. Of course Los Angeles in California!’

This time Gabe’s heart didn’t so much sink slightly as go crashing down like a lift with its cables cut. She was making it sound like a spur of the moment idea but he knew it wasn’t; this was something she’d been waiting to spring on him.

‘Um...’

‘Don’t say um, say yes! And there’s no need to look so worried.’ Savannah shook her head.

‘When you think about it, it’s the obvious answer. My agent’s rented a house for me in Bel Air so that’s all taken care of. And I know you’d feel funny aboutcoming out just to keep me company; but that’s the beauty of your job — you can work as easily over there as you can here!’

‘Savannah, listen—’

‘So basically it’s perfect in every way! The answer to all our prayers: she rattled on. ‘We can be together, we can even go public as a couple because I completely trust you now!’

‘Hang on a—’

‘And it’ll get you away from that messy flatmate of yours .. . I mean, I’m sure she’s a nice enough person and 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.