Jill Mansell - Chapter 1

Inactivity had bred boredom. She’d watched too much TV, read too many magazines, eaten far too many biscuits. In fact, she could do with expending a bit of energy now. Gazing around the flat, Sally decided to spend the day tidying up and .. . oh God, could she do it? ... de-cluttering the flat she’d devoted so much time to cluttering up.

Yes, she could do it and she was going to. Feeling energised already, Sally pushed up her sleeves and limped over to the ornate stained-glass mirror over by the window. She knew her passion for coloured fairy lights drove Gabe to distraction. OK, fine, she could live without fairy lights.

Reaching up, she unwound the ones draped around the mirror and threw them onto the sofa.

Then, because the mirror was now looking naked, like a Christmas tree brutally stripped of decorations, she took it down too.

Breathe in, breathe out, no need to panic. And that pink lampshade with the glittery fringing was another culprit; Gabe had always hated it. SaAy unplugged the lamp and added it to the mirror and the fairy lights on the sofa. She was on the verge of hyperventilating now but that was OK, no need to panic, it was only stuff. It didn’t make a difference to her life.

Cushions next. She’d keep her silver sequinned star-shaped cushion – in her bedroom – but the rest could go. And all the tea-light holders, which she knew Gabe found unbelievably pointless.

And the vase of peacock feathers on the floor next to the TV. And any magazines more than two months old. Right, start with the cushions, then move on to- Sally stopped in mid-fling at the sound of the letterbox clattering downstairs. The post had arrived an hour ago, so what was this?

Hobbling over to the window, expecting to see a spotty teenager delivering flyers, she peered down and saw instead the rear view of a slender blonde disappearing into the back of a black cab. The door slammed shut and the taxi pulled away.

Curious enough to go and investigate, Sally wrestled the armful of cushions into a black bin bag then made her way downstairs. Reaching the front door, she bent down and retrieved the envelope from the mat.

It was a plain, pale blue envelope with Gabe’s name on the front. Just that, Gabe, no surname, written in black ink with enough of a curly flourish about it to indicate that it had been penned by a girl.

Was this why he’d been so distant lately? Was Gabe embroiled in a tempestuous relationship that for some reason he hadn’t mentioned to her or Lola? As she slowly made her way back up the stairs, Sally itched to know what the envelope contained. Could she do that holding-it-over-the-kettle thing and steam it open? OK, maybe not; she’d tried that once during her miserable time with Toby the Tosser. Not only had the letter not been incriminating — it had been a dental appointment — the steam had turned the envelope all crinkly, making it glaringly obvious what had happened to it.And hadn’t Tosser Toby enjoyed getting his money’s worth out of that little slip-up? He hadn’t let her forget it for weeks.

Back in the flat Sally heroically put the letter down on the table. No snooping; instead she’d get on with the job in hand. Rummaging through one of the kitchen drawers she located an advertising card she’d kept — how spooky was that? — froma small local charity asking for items to sell in their shop. Can’t Deliver? We’ll Collect! promised the card, which was jolly helpful of them. She called the charity’s number and booked them in for four o’clock. There, now she couldn’t chicken out. Once everything was gone, it was gone for good.

Clean, clear lines might actually be nice. De-clutter your surroundings, de-clutter your life. As she energetically dragged magazines out from under the armchair, Sally began to feel better already. She could become a style icon, a champion of minimalism and space creation.

Blimey, and she’d always thought style icons were boring! She’d be turning into Anouska Hempel next.

Gabe stopped dead in the doorway, taking in the scene. Finally he said, ‘What’s going on?’

‘Ta-daaa! Just call me Anouska Hempel.’ To match the cool, clean lines of the flat, Sally had even changed into a floaty white dress.

‘Who?’ As he studied the living room, devoid of ... well, pretty much everything, Gabe said flatly, ‘So that’s it, you’re off.’

‘What?’ It was Sally’s turn to be confused.

‘Leaving, taking all your stuff with you. Moving out, moving on...’

‘No!’ She shook her head, dismayed by the realisation that this was probably what he’d been praying for. ‘I’m not going anywhere. I just tidied up. I thought you’d be pleased! I started doing a little bit then I got carried away. And guess what? I think I like it!’

Gabe exhaled audibly — with relief or disappointment, she couldn’t tell. He put down his camera and said evenly ‘So where is everything?’

‘Gone.’ Sally’s spirits plummeted; she’d been so proud of herself. Why couldn’t Gabe be proud of her too?

‘Gone where?’

‘Charity shop.’

‘Why?’

‘Because I’m turning over a new leaf!’ If her leg hadn’t still been hurting she’d have stamped her foot. ‘Gabe, why are you being like this?’

He shrugged. ‘Probably because I’m wondering why you’re being like this. It isn’t you.’

‘Oh, for God’s sake!’ Sally’s voice rose in frustration. ‘All my life people have complained about how untidy I am, and now I’m doing something about it you’re being all weird.’

‘I’m not being weird,’ said Gabe, who definitely still was. ‘I’m just wondering who you’re trying so hard to impress.’ He eyed her white dress and make-up and said with an edge to his voice,

‘Off out somewhere tonight?’

Like she was some kind of prostitute or something. ‘Yes’ Sally stared back at him. ‘Is that allowed?’

‘Who are you seeing?’

Honestly, damn cheek. In actual fact she’d been invited over to dinner by her lovely boss Dr Willis and his wife Emily to celebrate her return to work. Annoyed by Gabe’s attitude, Sally said,’What are you, my mother?’ and flounced into her bedroom. If he was going to be this stroppy and horrible, so was she.

When she returned ten minutes later with a black and white checked holdall, Gabe raised an eyebrow.

‘So you won’t be home.’

Having earlier turned down the Willis’s kind offer of a bed for the night in order to save her the tube journey into work the next day, Sally had now changed her mind. Maybe by thetime she returned tomorrow evening, Gabe would have snapped out of his mood. ‘Well done.You should be a detective. Oh, by the way, you’ve got a lett—’

‘What?’ Gabe looked up from his laptop when she abruptly stopped in mid-sentence.

Sally’s brain shot into overdrive, replaying the last eight hours at warp speed. The letter ... where had the letter gone? She’d left it on the coffee table before launching into her tidying frenzy and now it was no longer there. Somewhere along the way it had got swept up in the whirlwind and deposited goodness knows where.

‘Come on.’ Gabe sounded like Jeremy Paxman only more impatient. ‘I’ve got what?’

OK, she definitely didn’t need him shouting at her, which was what he’d do if she told him the truth.

‘A lettings agent after the flat. He called earlier, wondered if you were still interested in renting it out.’ As she spoke, Sally limped over to the magazine rack and began feverishly flicking through the few magazines she hadn’t despatched to the charity shop.

‘A lettings agent? What are you doing now?’

‘Just looking for the ... um, piece of paper. I wrote down their name and number in case you wanted to call them back.’