Dr Graham's Marriage Page 3

  So she'd bought the dress. No matter that Alex hated dancing and that the dream had been as unrealistic—given the state of her marriage and the tickets to Scotland—as the rest of her dreams at that time.

  Then she'd lost the baby the next day. But the silly idea must have been hiding in the murky gloom of her subconscious, emerging from the dark depths when she'd written the same thing on her list this morning. 'As if!' she muttered to herself, shoving the red dress into the bag with the undies. She certainly wasn't charitable enough to give it to some other woman to wear for her dream.

  CHAPTER TWO

  The plastic bag hovered over the dumpster in the maintenance area behind the building, then Gabi withdrew it, pulled out the red dress, slung it over her shoulder and tossed the rest in. The other garbage bags were by the door leading to the steps down to the basement. She picked them up, depressed by the fact that her entire wardrobe of clothes fitted into two garbage bags.

  Then she felt the slither of silk against her shoulder and remembered the dress. It was like a red flag of courage, reminding her of her commitment—awaiting the night when she'd wear it to fulfil the final item on the list.

  She was so focussed on the future she failed to see the figure, laden with groceries, crossing from a parked car to the lift.

  'Are you sleep-walking or what?' Kirsten demanded, and Gabi, blinking to adjust her eyes from the light in the stairwell to the gloom of the basement, chuckled.

  'Probably!' she said. 'I'm sure if I was fully conscious I wouldn't be doing this.'

  Kirsten's slumberous green eyes took in the garbage bags, and widened in surprise.

  'Doing what? You're not moving out?' she wailed. 'Who will I have to talk to if you go? When did you decide? Does Alana know? Oh, Gabi, don't go!'

  The plaintive plea lost oomph, and even in the semi-darkness Gabi could see the speculative gleam in Kirsten's eyes.

  'Before you get totally carried away, imagining your perfect man shifting into my flat, I'm not going anywhere. I'm just taking all my clothes to the charity bins down the road.'

  'You're joining a nudist colony? Or is it a new quirky thing in A and E—just white coats and nothing underneath? Are patient numbers dropping so that you have to try something different? Boy, what would I give to see Eric Cooper's coat flap open!'

  'The mind boggles!' Gabi giggled at the picture. 'Can you imagine?'

  'So what's it all about? You've won a complete wardrobe from one of the department stores! Oh, great. Let me dump these groceries and I'll come with you. Help you choose. Then we'll ring Alana, and she can find out who else is free, and we'll go out clubbing tonight so you can show them off.'

  'No!' Gabi said, remembering her list.

  'No, I can't come with you or, no, you won't go out? If it's going out, you always say no at first, then you give in—'

  'Only because you and Alana keep on and on at me. This no is a no that I mean—not tonight, Kirsten, because I won't have time to sleep all day.'

  'You're going to shop all day?' Kirsten said with such total disbelief Gabi felt her eyes rolling around in her head. She couldn't have avoided seeing Kirsten, but she should have kept her mouth shut about the shopping.

  'No!' Gabi said again. 'First I'm going to the hairdresser.'

  'You're going to the hairdresser?'

  'Is there an echo down here or are you being more than usually dense?' Gabi demanded. She dropped the bags to the ground but resisted the urge to shake her friend. After all, if anyone knew about clothes and style it was Kirsten, and her help and advice on the shopping expedition would be invaluable. 'I'm popping these bags in the bins, going to the hairdresser, then shopping for clothes. Now, do you want to meet me for the shopping part or not?'

  'Where?' Suspicion clung to the word, Kirsten no doubt imagining Gabi's usual shopping outings to outlet shops and dreary department stores.

  'El Centro.'

  'El Centro? You're going shopping in El Centro?'

  'It's the echo thing again!' Gabi muttered, then realised she was fast running out of time. 'Look, if you want to come shopping with me, meet me at Luca's Salon at two.'

  She walked away with another echo, Kirsten's disbelieving 'Luca's Salon?' ringing in her ears.

  Luca himself insisted on overseeing the transformation of Gabi's hair from an indeterminate colour and styleless cut to a shining bob of blonde and hazelnut streaks. She'd been uncertain about the streaks, assuming, given her luck, she'd end up looking like a tiger or, worse, a variegated rug, but when he'd announced she would also be getting a complete make-over, fears about striped hair vanished.

  'I'm a minimal make-up kind of person,' she protested, but Luca waved her objections away.

  'Minimal is good, but you have to get it right,' he told her, summoning his make-up artist, then poking and prodding at Gabi's skin and facial structure.

  'Leave it to Anna!' he finally decreed, and the woman went to work with lotions and potions, then a dash of this and a brush of that and a whisk of something else, bringing out cheekbones Gabi hadn't known existed, and emphasising eyes which had been useful enough in the past to see out of, but were now things of beauty.

  Transformation complete, Gabi stared at her image in the mirror, wondering if the inner woman would ever be able to match up to the gleaming confident-looking outer one.

  But best of all was Kirsten's double-take when they met in the doorway of the salon—Kirsten stepping aside to let the stranger past, then realising who it was.

  'My God! You're beautiful!'

  'It's the make-up,' Gabi assured her. 'Underneath that it's just the same old nondescript me.'

  'Nonsense! You were never nondescript. In fact, you were very attractive in an understated way—you just kept understating it and understating it until you practically disappeared. All that ex-husband's fault, no doubt.'

  This was the moment to tell Kirsten about the ex-husband's return, but as it was only temporary, and Kirsten had never known Alex—and Kirsten was very attractive— Gabi chickened out, suggesting instead they eat before hitting the shops.

  Maybe food would shift thoughts of Alex—and Alex's reaction to the new Gabi—out of her head. After all, she was doing this for herself, not for Alex or any man!

  Familiar with the shopping centre, Kirsten guided her to 'the best' coffee-shop, then proceeded to outline her plans for the afternoon's sortie.

  'We'll start at Starkers, because there's no point in trying on fabulous clothes if you're in your usual sensible underwear. Then move on to Star Signs for casual gear you can wear to work or at weekends around the house, and leave the glamour stuff for last.'

  She studied her friend.

  'I don't suppose you'd like to buy this gorgeous sexy black-beaded evening gown I saw in Stardust last weekend?'

  'Fit both of us, would it?' Gabi teased, then, puzzled by more repetition, asked, 'Do all the shops have "Star" in them?'

  'Only the women's clothes shops.' Kirsten grinned at her. 'The men's use "Stud". Come on, you've had your caffeine fix—let's go.'

  And go Gabi did. Determined that if she was doing this at all, she'd do it properly, she dug into the savings she'd been accumulating so diligently over the years, splashing out on matching bra and panty sets—patterned, lacy, stitched with bright flowers—silky camisoles and slinky half-slips that hugged her hips and thighs.

  'Nobody'd ever have guessed you had a figure under your daggy old skirts and blouses,' Kirsten remarked, dragging Gabi, new underwear hidden beneath her old work clothes, to the next stage of the expedition.

  'They were never daggy,' Gabi protested. 'Just serviceable.'

  Had they been daggy? Had Alex thought so? Damn the man—why come back and mess with her head right now, just when she was going for change and confidence.

  'Daggy!' Kirsten, not privy to the mental conversation, repeated firmly. 'Now, look at this.'

  They'd halted in front of a window display where smiling mannequins displayed softly s
wirling skirts with boat-necked tops in feather-light knit fabric, or snug denim skirts with delicately ruched blouses.

  'Mix and match,' Kirsten said. 'Get some decent jeans, two pairs of Capri pants, one denim and one white, a couple of skirts, half a dozen tops, and you can go anywhere, any time.'

  She led Gabi inside, pausing just inside the door to grab a lightweight denim trench coat.

  'Oh, isn't it to die for? Gabi, you simply must have this.'

  'So you can borrow it?' Gabi teased, but she liked the coat, and knew it would look smart and be useful between seasons as she walked to and from work, though if she got the job at the new children's hospital she'd be driving to work...

  'Hey, you should be smiling.' Kirsten must have caught her momentary hesitation. 'You don't have to buy the coat!'

  'Oh, yes, I do,' Gabi told her, selecting the coat first and handing it to a saleswoman standing ready to ferry things to a changing room.

  *

  It was six o'clock before Gabi staggered home, laden with carry bags, lack of sleep adding to the hyped feeling in both her body and her brain.

  'You shower and change into one of your new outfits,' Kirsten ordered, following Gabi into the flat with more parcels, packages and boxes. 'I called Alana earlier and she's free tonight, so we'll all go down to Mickey's for a drink then dinner to celebrate the new you. I'll even shout dinner.'

  She whirled past Gabi, who'd paused in the small entry to the flat, her body tense as she tried to sense if Alex had returned.

  'I'll dump these on the bed in the spare room,' Kirsten continued. "That way, if you don't have time to unpack them all tonight, you'll still be able to get into your bed.'

  Gabi watched as she disappeared into the spare bedroom, then saw her flip back out like a Jack-in-the-box, her eyes wide with astonishment.

  'Gabi, there's a man asleep in your spare bedroom!' she said, whispering so loudly she could probably be heard on the ground floor. 'Is that what this is all about?'

  She waved the goodies still slung across her arms to emphasise the 'this'.

  'Of course it isn't,' Gabi told her, grabbing parcels from her and dumping them on an armchair. 'That's only Alex.

  He's back to see his mother—flew in this morning, so I guess jet-lag caught up with him and he's, come here to have a sleep.'

  Then, concerned Kirsten might still believe she was changing her entire life because of Alex—of all men!—she added, 'This is about me, Kirsten, no one else.'

  'Well, I'm glad,' Kirsten said, 'because I was reading just the other day where the women most likely to end up in a successful relationship are women who are self-focussed.'

  Gabi rolled her eyes again.

  'And where did you fit in this latest pop psychology quiz?'

  'Oh, I'm a commitment-phile.' Kirsten seemed almost pleased with the label. 'I always think every man's "the one", then get shattered when it doesn't work that way. I had you down as the "soul-mate" type—you know, you think you've met your soul-mate, then you're disappointed because he doesn't match up to the ideal. Neither of us rank too well in the happy-ever-after stakes, but now you've switched to "self-focussed" you're on your way, girl!'

  Kirsten gave her a high five by way of celebration, then wafted out the door, turning in the doorway to say, 'Seven at Mickey's, OK?' before crossing the small foyer to her own flat on the other side of the lift-well.

  'Seven? That gives me exactly thirty minutes to shower, change and work out how to put on all the make-up I've just bought,' Gabi muttered to herself, but her thoughts were more on the person sleeping in her spare bedroom than the intricacies of make-up. Kirsten was right. She'd thought she'd found her soul-mate in Alex, way back when they'd been starting university. But apparently—and she'd proved it—soul-mates had little chance of success in their relationships.

  She frowned as she picked up the parcels Kirsten had dumped.

  Why?

  Surely people who were alike in interest and outlook should have a good chance of maintaining a successful relationship.

  She'd have to ask Kirsten, who, for all her ditzy ways, pop quizzes and flip talk, had an excellent brain hidden beneath the fashion-plate image. In fact, she'd completed her master's degree in psychology earlier in the year.

  Dropping all the packages on the floor in the corner of her bedroom—she'd unpack properly tomorrow—Gabi searched through them for the white skirt with the aqua and gold beading around the hem and the matching aqua off-one-shoulder top. The outfit was sufficiently special for a celebration, which tonight definitely was, but not too dressy for Mickey's bar and bistro on the ground floor of the apartment block.

  Once found, she spread the garments on the bed, dug through the bags again to find the pale blue bandeau Kirsten had insisted she could wear as a bra under the top—and the matching panties.

  She smiled at the glamorous lingerie, and excitement kicked in again. The clothes might only be outward indications of her new self, but they were also the confidence boost she needed to stick to her plans.

  Confidence which wavered slightly a little later as she opened the door to cross from bathroom to bedroom, clad only in the bandeau and briefs, and met a rumpled, sleep-dazed Alex peering uncertainly at her.

  'What are you wearing?' he demanded.

  'Underwear!' Gabi retorted, then, glancing at the faded black jocks stretched across his hips, she added, 'You?'

  He obviously failed to see the humour in the situation, for he frowned, then growled, 'You're going out again? What about sleep? What kind of service do you think you'll give to patients if you're exhausted?'

  Pleased she'd stirred him up enough to be grouchy, Gabi smiled.

  'Terrible!' she told him. 'Really, really gross. So I'd better sleep tomorrow, hadn't I?'

  She moved away into her bedroom, shutting the door so the pheromones couldn't follow and confuse her with issues that had nothing to do with her personal campaign of change. Though the scrunchy feeling in her stomach suggested they didn't need to follow—while Alex was around she'd find it impossible to not think of him.

  Focus—that was what she needed.

  The new clothes fitted beautifully, the white accentuating the tan on her freshly shaven and thoroughly moisturised legs. Aqua sandals—really nothing more than a few fine strips of leather—held together with a bow of glass beads— completed the outfit, and as Gabi twirled in front of the mirror a sense of excitement, so long missing from her life, filled her with the fizz of champagne bubbles.

  'Toenails!'

  The glitch was only momentary. She'd actually bought some new fast-drying nail polish a couple of weeks ago, though, as her toes rarely saw daylight, she hadn't bothered to use it. Slipping off the sandals, she applied the vibrant pink, knowing it would set while she did the make-up thing.

  'I can do this!' she told herself as she opened little boxes and bottles and followed the procedure Luca's make-up girl had used.

  'Boy! Even that worked! Maybe this transformation caper's going to be a cinch.'

  She twirled again, talking to herself in an effort to ignore the voice that suggested maybe all this twirling stuff was a way of putting off her exit from the room. An exit that could possibly—would probably—bring her into contact with Alex once again.

  'Bulldust!' she muttered, but did a final twirl anyway, then, chin held high in what she hoped was a confident tilt and not a stiff-necked pose, she opened the door and walked out.

  After all, it was her flat—even if it was in Alex's name.

  She wasn't sure whether to be glad or sorry when she found the living room deserted. Ditto the kitchen.

  No way was she going to check the bathroom or second bedroom—it could give him the impression she cared where he was. But she did feel slightly deflated.

  Still, it was after seven—no time to brood; she had to go.

  She grabbed her handbag then realised it didn't match. Ruined the entire look. Surely they'd done handbags!

  She thou
ght back. A little aqua clutch—she remembered Kirsten, high on spending someone else's money, throwing it in with the shoe purchases.

  Back into the bedroom, where she found the clutch, transferred money and handkerchief and the new, minimal cosmetics self-focussed women needed for touch-up jobs, and once again prepared to leave the flat.

  Alex hadn't emerged from either bathroom or bedroom, so Gabi called an obligatory goodbye in case he was still in the flat and left, feeling new excitement as she heard the tip-tap of her stiletto heels click across the tiled foyer.

  'Wow!'

  Alana's reaction when she stepped into the lift on the second floor was all Gabi could wish for, and though the old Gabi might have uttered her thoughts—You don't think I've gone too far?—the new Gabi kept them inside and savoured Alana's surprise.

  'But you'll be wasted on Mickey's,' Alana continued. 'Let's have a quick drink there then go on somewhere special—like the Blue Room. Somewhere people go to see and be seen.'

  They'd disembarked in the foyer and were walking towards the entrance to the bar and bistro, but before entering Gabi stopped and turned to the woman who'd been her friend since they'd first met in kindergarten twenty-six years earlier.

  'I'm not doing this so I'll be seen—not for other people, Alana. I'm doing it for me. So I get the very most I can out of life. I'm doing it to make me feel good. I don't believe anyone can "have it all", as the saying is these days, but I'm going to have a damn good go at having a whole lot more than I've been having.'

  Alana eyed her doubtfully.

  'I hear what you're saying but I'd find it a whole lot easier to believe if Kirsten hadn't mentioned seeing Alex asleep in your flat.'

  Gabi exploded.

  'This has nothing to do with any man!' she yelled at her friend. 'Least of all Alex Graham, who's been out of my life for far longer than the year we've been separated.'