Page 31 of Wedding Crasher

‘Gabe, I would never behave like that. Not intentionally, anyway.’

‘Oh, hang on. No, don’t tell me. You did it unintentionally,’ he said, with a humourless laugh. ‘Why didn’t I think of that?’

‘I didn’t do it at all, Gabe,’ she said. ‘But I know now that it might have been connected to the chapel, somehow, and if it was, I’m truly very sorry.’

Faced down by Gabe’s impenetrable expression, she haltingly explained about Jonny’s online campaign, ever aware that Melanie would be back soon.

‘So, what do you expect of me, Marla?’ He assessed her coolly. ‘A pat on the back for telling the truth? You pay for the damage and we forget all about it? It’s criminal bloody damage.’

Marla sighed heavily. He would be well within his rights to call the police.

‘Just get the hell out of here,’ he sighed with a resigned air of disappointment. ‘I don’t want your money, and I won’t be calling the police.’ Marla closed her eyes and breathed out. ‘And don’t kid yourself that I’m doing it for you, or Jonny. I’m doing it for me, and for my business. The last fucking thing I need is to turn this into a sideshow in the paper.’

They both looked out towards the street as Dora, who had started to sweep up the glass, suddenly began squawking.

‘Get out of it! You should be ashamed of yourself!’

They stepped nearer to the window at the exact moment the photographer fromTheHeraldpointed his camera towards them and flashed it in their eyes. Melanie burst through from the back at the sound of raised voices, as outside Dora started poking the broom at the hastily retreating backside of the photographer.

Gabe rounded on Marla, his eyes blazing. ‘Everything is a fucking opportunity to further your petty campaign, isn’t it? You come over here with your pretty apology, knowing all the time that that lowlife was on his way to splash this all over the front page. Bravo, Marla. You really are a piece of fucking work.’

Words failed her. For the second time that day, Gabe had been all too quick to automatically assume the worst of her, and it wounded her more deeply than she could have expected. Melanie strutted to the door and yanked it open, jerking her head, her venomous eyes making her message clear in no uncertain terms.Get out before I throw you out.In the absence of the necessary magic to tap her ruby heels together and disappear, Marla dipped her head and left the parlour. Even Dora emanated disapproval, shaking her head slowly as she stoutly swept the glass from the pavement without meeting Marla’s eye.

By the time Marla reached the relative safety of the chapel, she needed another good cry and a large gin.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

‘Two glasses of Shiraz please, Bill. Large as you can.’

‘I’ll bring them over for you, ladies.’

Emily smiled gratefully at the landlord and steered Marla across to a table in the corner of The Mermaid’s busy bar.

Bill followed with their glasses and a big smile, but made a hasty retreat after one look at Marla’s stricken face.

Marla picked up her glass, grateful for the wine’s warmth and spice after the strangeness of the day.

‘You can’t keep blaming yourself, Marla. You had no idea what was going on.’ They had talked of nothing else but the window incident since this afternoon, and despite searching relentlessly through the emails for clues, they were no closer to finding out who was behind it. Whoever had thrown that brick made sure they covered their tracks well.

‘What am I going to do, Em? This has all got badly out of hand.’

Emily nudged Marla’s glass closer. ‘Drink your medicine. It helps.’

Uncharacteristically, Marla did as she was told. She was tired. Exhausted, in fact. Going over to the funeral parlour this afternoon with her tail between her legs ranked up there amongst the most toe-curling moments of her life.

‘Jonny’s pretty cut up you know,’ Emily offered, swirling her wine around in her glass.

Marla shook her head and sighed. She and Jonny were chalk and cheese in so many ways, yet somehow it worked and they’d become close friends as well as colleagues. Up until this afternoon, anyway. She hadn’t been able to hide her disgust when he’d showed her what was going on online, and though it was clear he realised with horror exactly how much jeopardy he’d placed the chapel in, it had been all she could do not to fire him on the spot. As it was, she’d sent him home to pull their website offline completely, and to retrace his steps, wiping absolutely every hint of the campaign from the net.

‘I’ll talk to him in the morning. If I ring him now I’ll say something I regret.’ Marla still couldn’t believe that Jonny had been so monumentally stupid. However well intended, he should never have started the campaign without consulting her, and to have kept the spiralling problems to himself like a child afraid of getting into trouble had placed them all at risk. It had been by far the biggest disagreement between them, and Marla had been too humiliated and horrified to offer an olive branch yet.

Emily nodded.

‘How did you leave it with Gabe?’

Marla’s shoulders slumped even more.

‘I’m officially the Wicked Witch of the West over there.’

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