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He hid his impatience. He needed to know the truth, but losing his temper wouldn't get him anywhere. "I just want to know everything that you did. I'm not interested in names and it won't be taken any further. You have my word." She still looked anxious. "Claudia wouldn't allow it."
"Only, the photograph ... someone else put that in the parachute. A friend, one of the film crew. He didn't know what it was. I told him it was a good luck message. I told Claudia that this morning."
In Mac's opinion, Joanna Gray's friends.h.i.+p was not something to be eagerly pursued, but his smile remained friendly, his voice rea.s.suring. "I thought that was probably it. Tell me about the letters."
"Oh, G.o.d." She covered her face with her hands. "I can't believe I did that. She put the idea into my head you know. She said if she hurt herself I could take over as Amanda ... I thought if she was really nervous she might be tense..."
And it had worked. Claudia had been nervous and she had hurt her ankle. But she hadn't made a fuss, she's just had it strapped and carried on. He put his hand on her shoulder. "We all do things we regret, Joanna. The important thing is to learn from our mistakes. Come on now, tell me about it. Tell me about the letters."
"I just pushed the first one through her front door. Someone was going out and he held the door for me. After the first one the others just seemed to happen..."
"And the dress?"
She balked. "Look, I've admitted all this. I don't want to talk about it."
"But you slashed the dress."
"Yes!"
A nurse looked in. "Is everything all right, here? Joanna?"
For a moment she looked as if she would complain, but Mac held her gaze. "I'm fine," she muttered. "No problem." She looked sullenly at Mac. "I slashed the dress, I sent her nasty little notes, I cut up her photograph and had it put in the parachute. Now will you go away and leave me alone? Or do you want a confession in blood."
"What about the car, Joanna?"
"The car?"
"Claudia's pretty new car. The brakes were tampered with. Did your friend in the film crew handle that? Or was that another friend?"
She stared at him. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"And the man watching her flat. The man in the delivery van. Was that another friend?"
She was staring at him as if he were mad. "I don't know what you're talking about," she repeated.
"Don't you? Then tell me about the paint."
"What paint?" Her shocked expression was convincing. She'd come clean quickly enough about the letters and photograph but she appeared to be totally unaware of the nastier elements of Claudia's ordeal. But she was an actress; it was her job to be convincing. It was his job to be certain.
"Didn't you wonder why Claudia had her head covered up this morning?" he asked. "Why she was wearing so much makeup? She doesn't normally as I'm sure you know, since you're such a friend." The woman in the bed visibly flinched but she didn't answer. "Someone flung a liter of scarlet paint over her two nights ago. She reacted badly to it and her skin came out in great blotches. And they had to cut her hair off in the hospital. She could have been blinded, Joanna."
For a moment Joanna Gray stared at him. "Do you really think I'd do something like that? That I'd want to really hurt her?" she asked in a disbelieving whisper. He didn't answer. "Oh, no," she said, shaking her head. "Oh no, you can't really believe that."
"Why? Because you're her friend? Tell me Joanna, would you have stopped at nasty letters if Claudia hadn't handed you her role on a plate when the strain got too much for her?"
"I wouldn't have done anything else. Please." She clutched at his hand. "You've got to believe that. I felt so ashamed of myself. I was going to call her, confess what a b.i.t.c.h I'd been, then out of the blue she phoned me, asked me if I'd take over from her for a week or so. As a favor to her. I thought ... I knew if I'd told her what I'd done she wouldn't let me near the theater." She covered her face and began to sob quietly. "Oh, G.o.d. She was my friend, my very best friend and I've ruined everything."
Mac stared down at the girl. He'd given her a hard time because he'd had too. She'd been a fool, but she hadn't hurt Claudia and he didn't believe she ever would. "I'll tell you something about friends.h.i.+p," he said, quietly. "When Claudia came to see you this morning, rus.h.i.+ng to comfort you, rea.s.sure you, offer you the sanctuary of her own home, she believed you had done every one of the things I've told you about. But she was more concerned about how you were feeling than with what you had done to her."
"But I didn't!" She clutched at his arm, looking up at him with her tear-stained face. "You've got to believe me. I didn't touch her car, or throw paint at her." She gave a little groan. "And if I didn't, someone else must have. You were right, she is still in danger. For pity's sake -"
But Mac hadn't waited to hear any more.
"I have to go home, Mel. I need some fresh underwear and much as I love you I have no wish to borrow yours. You're just too d.a.m.ned skinny."
"Do you want me to come with you?"
"To hold my hand?" Claudia knew Melanie meant well, but she would have to face it sooner or later and she needed to begin to reclaim her life. Make some decisions about her future now that the horrors were behind her. The first hurdle would be facing her flat on her own. This morning hadn't counted. It had all been too frantic. And Gabriel had been there. "No, really. I just needed a couple of hours sleep that's all. I'm fine now." Maybe that was an exaggeration, but she would make it the truth. Gabriel was no longer a physical presence for her to lean on, but he would always be with her in spirit. He had cared for her, looked after her, put her first. Discovering that she loved him, was capable of falling in love with him, had taught her so much about herself. She felt as if she had taken a step forward out of the black hole of the past.
"If you're quite sure." Melanie still sounded uncertain so Claudia kissed her cheek and gave her a hug.
"Don't worry, darling. I'll see you later."
Twenty minutes later, stuck in a traffic jam, she paid off the taxi and began to walk.
Mac put his finger to Claudia's bell and held on. There was no answer. But that didn't mean she wasn't up there. Hurt. Or worse. He rang Kay's bell, but before she had a chance to answer he caught sight of Claudia. She was strolling along the street, her long legs swinging in that easy, seductive gait that sent the blood rus.h.i.+ng to his head. Just seeing her, so unexpectedly, took his breath away.
And then she saw him too and stopped. Just stopped, the look on her face unmistakable. It was joy. Pure unadulterated joy and his heart felt as big as a haystack.
"Gabriel?" She took a step towards him, then hesitated as if she wasn't sure she could believe her own eyes. Then her face changed, the teasing smile was levered back into place and her thick lashes were doing their flirtatious tango as she hid her deepest feelings behind a mask of careless nonchalance. "What on earth are you doing here?" she asked, casually as you like. But it was too late. She would never fool him again.
He'd thought she was like Jenny. Hard, selfish, uncaring. He'd been so wrong. And he was there because there was nowhere else in the entire world he would want to be. He covered the ground between them without any particular awareness of putting one foot in front of the other, taking her hands in his as she looked up at him with those extraordinary eyes, the little black flecks darkening the silver irises.
"I'm here because..." - because he couldn't live without her, because he had to tell her how much he loved her - "... because I wanted to ask you a question."
"A question?" Claudia lifted one shoulder just a touch awkwardly. For a moment she had thought that he had come back because ... well, just because ... "You're always asking questions," she said, and he saw the disappointment in her face. Twenty-four hours ago he would have missed that. Now he knew what to look for.
"Two questions, actually."
"Two questions," she repeated, disgustedly. Claudia didn't care for the way he was looking at her. As if he knew something that she didn't. "What do you think I am? An encyclopedia? Why don't you go for broke, darling? Three's a charm, or didn't you know?"
Oh, yes, he knew and there was a third question. A very important question, but that would have to wait. "I want you to tell me who threw the paint at you last night."
He kept fooling her. When would she ever learn? Over and over she fell into the trap of thinking he might be able to care for her because even when she had gone to such heartbreaking pains to let him see that he was free to walk away without giving her another thought, he didn't seem to be able to do it. And every time he came back her heart would keep hoping.
"You know who," she said, crossly. "Joanna -"
"It wasn't Joanna. She sent the letters, she slashed your dress, but she didn't know anything about the paint."
She pulled her hands away from his. She hadn't a clue what he was talking about, but she wasn't prepared to play any more. "Gabriel, it's all over. I don't want to talk about it."
"Claudia, darling, if you're protecting someone, it's time to stop."
"I'm not protecting anyone. Let it go." She waited for him to step aside, let her pa.s.s. He didn't. "Gabriel, I need to pick up a few things before I go to the theater." She tried to get pa.s.sed him but he blocked her way, gripping her shoulders.
"Claudia, listen to me."
"It's over," she insisted, pulling free.
"You've been great, Mac," she said, reverting to the name that everyone used, distancing herself from him. "I'll write you a reference any time you want, but it's over. You have to know when to let it go." She couldn't say it any more clearly, she thought, sweeping around him, desperate now to get away.
"There are two questions. You haven't heard the other one." Claudia stopped, her back to him and waited. "Who is David Hart?"
She spun round, absolutely furious. "David is a friend. That's all. A sweet, kind man who never judges me, never criticizes me and never, ever plagues me with stupid questions -"
The squeal of tires cut off her words and she stood, open-mouthed as a small delivery van swung across the road heading straight for her. She remained transfixed, glued to the pavement as everything happened in slow motion around her. The van mounting the pavement, a glimpse of the driver's face contorted in pain, or rage, someone shouting from a long way off for her to move. Then Gabriel caught her, lifted her and flung her out of the way. She threw up her arms to protect herself as she hit the pavement and rolled, automatically using the method Tony had taught her so painstakingly before her parachute jump and which she had so notable failed to employ at the time. And she lay there for a moment, winded, trying desperately to suck air into her lungs so that she could scream.
It was so quiet.
Then the sounds began to fill in the eerie silence around her. The crash as the car piled into something. The pounding of feet running towards them. Someone shouting instructions to call an ambulance and the fire brigade. A low moaning. Then she realized the sound was coming from her and she opened her eyes.
Her eyes were a few inches above the gray pavement and for a moment she couldn't think why. Then she remembered Gabriel and she turned her head. He was lying a few feet from her. He was horribly still and blood was beginning to pool at the side of his head. And then she did scream.
"Gabriel?" She'd been sitting beside him for hours, waiting for him to come round fully from the anesthetic. He'd drifted in and out several times. Once he'd spoken to her but she could see that he wasn't absolutely conscious.
Now when he turned his head his blue eyes were clear and bright against the pallid color of his skin and he smiled as she stood up and took his hand. "I like your hair. I didn't have a chance to tell you before."
"No." d.a.m.n. She hadn't cried so far but now, when he was conscious, her eyes were filling with tears.
"And you're not hurt."
She gave a little sniff. "Thanks to you. You saved my life."
"Not really. If I hadn't kept you talking on the pavement you'd have been inside your flat well out of harm's way."
"Not quite." She hesitated. "It wasn't an accident, Gabriel. He was trying to kill me. That's what you were trying to tell me, wasn't it? That there was someone else? If I'd listened this would never..." What began as a gesture towards the bed ended with her hand stuffed into her mouth to stop herself from screaming.
Gabriel reached up, rescued her fingers and carried them to his cheek. "Who was he, Claudia? Who was the man in the van?" She told him the man's name, who he was and watched the slow realization cross his face. "The man who crippled your mother?" She nodded. "But why?"
Claudia shrugged. "Who knows. Dad believes it was the photograph that set him off. I look sufficiently like her in all honesty, but the photograph was touched up and I had my hair done in exactly the same way. I was even wearing one of her dresses. He probably recognized it. He might even have bought it for her." She closed her eyes, trying to blot out the horror of it all. "I suppose he thought she'd come back to haunt him, to expose him. By attacking me he must have hoped to get rid of her, put the genie back into the bottle. The trouble was I kept bouncing back. I was on the television, three times in four days as well as in the Stalker promos. The guilt had probably been eating away at him all these years ... it just needed something like that photograph to make him snap."
"I suppose his death will be put down to a heart attack? Another cover up?"
"I hope so. Let the dead keep their secrets."
"Yes, well, I'm glad it's over." He turned away, staring straight ahead at the clock. Then he said, "Shouldn't you be at the theater?"
"Should I?"
"Well, someone should be. Losing one leading lady might be construed as bad luck; two looks a touch careless from where I'm lying."
"There's always another actress waiting in the wings, Gabriel. Tonight it's the turn of the girl who has been playing the maid to get her chance as Amanda, and the ASM gets to play the maid's role. Dreams, you see, really can come true." She paused to gather her breath. "As for me, well I have to tell you, Gabriel MacIntyre, that there isn't a play, or a film, or a television series, or a part in any one of them that would have kept me away from you." He didn't answer and she stared down at her hands awkwardly twisting the corner of the sheet.
"You might so easily have been killed. All the time in the ambulance I kept thinking that you might die and I wouldn't ever have the chance to tell you how much I love you. You don't have to do anything about it. But I wanted you to know." Still he said nothing. "That's all."
"Can I ask you a question?"
Claudia sighed. "Weren't you listening? Or did that car knock what sense you had clean out of your head? I told you, David is just friend. He's never -"
"Forget David. Three's a charm you said."
"Did I? Oh. Well, yes, I suppose I did."
"Then let's hope it works." He turned to her, then, regarding her gravely, before motioning her closer. She leaned over him. "Closer," he murmured. Then as she put her ear down to his mouth, he caught her and pulled her down beside him, ignoring the cry of alarm as she toppled over, ignoring the pain that shot through his leg. That was a familiar pain and he knew that it would go away in it's own good time.
"Gabriel, for goodness sake, your leg..."
"Stay exactly where you are and my leg won't be a problem."
"I can't stay here!"
"You'll have to." His mouth widened in a broad grin as she glanced nervously towards the door. "I want to ask you a question and I want your undivided attention."
She was inches above him, her body pressed along the length of his and suddenly she didn't care who might be outside in the corridor. She only cared about him. "You've got it, my love. I'm all yours."
"Then there's only one more thing to settle. Are you going to marry me without a fuss, Claudia Beaumont? Or will I have to take a leaf from Luke Devlin's book and lay siege until you surrender. I warn you that unlike him I have the training for it so you might as well give up without a fuss."
"Is that right?" She looked into his eyes, saw that he meant every word he said and a warm glow began to spread through her entire body. "Will we live in the cottage?"
"Would you like to?"
"I think I'd like to bathe by candlelight and swim as the sun rises."
"But only in the summer," he advised. "We'll extend the place, I've got the plans drawn up already." He paused. "And well put in electricity."
"Who needs electricity, when I've got you to keep me warm?"
"Can I take that as a yes?" he inquired, huskily.
"Mmmm." She eased herself down onto him, avoiding the cage that protected his injured leg. "How's your head?" She lightly touched the dressing pad that covered the small scalp wound that had produced such a frightening amount of blood.
"A bit sore."
"Would you like me to kiss it better?"
"I thought you'd never offer."
And her kiss was everything he knew it would be. All the promises, all the answers to any question he had ever asked. After a while, he eased her down beside him. "Well?"
Claudia put her head on his shoulder and snuggled against him. "Ask me again when you're not concussed and I'll take you seriously."
"I've never been more serious in my entire life," he a.s.sured her. Then he yawned. "Or had so little sleep outside a war zone."