Whatever Gabriel said was interrupted angrily.
“It’s not me who causes problems; it’s that glorified garment stitcher. Laura is the one that should be kept away from him. I thought you were on my side. Why didn’t you defend me?”
Nicole’s next words raised a dozen questions in Pierre’s mind.
“No, you don’t.” Her voice quivered with emotion. “Youhaven’t been the same ever since you arrived here. It’s as if we’re strangers and you...” Her voice lowered and became muffled for a moment.
Pierre stood still with one foot in her pyjama bottoms and one foot out, waiting until Nicole moved closer to her window and her words became easier to hear.
“You’re making me run after you. Why don’t you…Look at me, babe. This is what I mean. I have a wonderful suite of rooms here, but you insist on staying in that tiny...”
This was bad. It was private and Pierre shouldn’t be listening. But she couldn’t move away. In fact, she wished she had Adam’s stethoscope to put to the wall and hear what Gabriel said.
“I don’t work all night.” Her voice softened. “And I miss you.”
Now she could move, or to put it more accurately, now staying to listen became worse than moving. Pierre pulled on her soft flannel pyjamas and went next door.
Could she really be friends with Gabriel?
Snagging her dip-dyed kimono dressing gown from the hanger behind the door, she went to her desk. Her laptop welcomed her like a friend. One who never let her down.Friendship is a sweet consolation.She typed quickly into her template.
No.
She pressed the back space button and deleted.
Why do men who can’t love you always want to be friends?
Too bitter, and too on the nose.
Friendship is like opening a Christmas present and finding yet another scarf.
The curser blinked on and off at the end of the word scarf. Unfair. Scarves were lovely things; you only didn’t appreciate them because you wanted something else.
Again, she highlighted the whole line and pressed the space bar to delete.
When a man you like offers you his friendship, it’s like opening a birthday present and finding socks.
Better. Because her cards had to be at least a little funny. But it needed a bit more. Her fingers were still for a moment on the keyboard, then went on typing.
When a man you like offers you his friendship, it’s like opening a birthday present and finding socks. Smile, say thank you, then give them to Oxfam. You’ll make someone’s cold feet very happy.
It needed a bit more work.
Maybe tomorrow. Then she remembered that tomorrow Millie was coming back, and happiness flooded her. Millie was a friend.
Friendship is like the best, warmest, fluffy socks on a cold day. But in the wrong place, from the wrong person, friendship is like warm socks on a sunny beach.
Seventeen
The next morning, a fizz of excitement filled the kitchen. Millie and George were due back today. Things would get back to normal. Cook moved like a whirlwind between serving porridge and preparing a mountain of food for a very special welcome dinner.
Laura was almost jittery with nerves; Millie would get to try on her wedding dress.
“Relax,” Liam told her over breakfast. “I’m sure you’ve done a magnificent job.”
Mrs B hummed as she arranged flowers in a vase. “Now Mr George is back, he can deal with the land agent and everyone else that’s been waiting for him.”
“How does the island run without him here?” Gabriel asked. No breakfast in bed that morning, he sat with them eating his usual scrambled eggs and sausages.
