Convenient Engagements

‘You just have to get used to him.’

Phoebe couldn’t imagine ever getting used to Gib. Every time he came into the room she would catch her breath as if startled by the blueness of his eyes and the lazy good humour of his smile. Nobody had the right to be that attractive and that relaxed the whole time!

She wished she could be like Kate and Bella, and treat him like just another friend, but somehow she couldn’t. You weren’t aware of friends the way she was always aware of Gib.

It made Phoebe uneasy. There was nothing wrong with physical attraction, but it felt all wrong at the moment. She wasn’t ready for another relationship, whatever her friends said. Ben had meant too much to her for her to get over him that easily. She might never get over him and, if she did, it certainly wasn’t going to be with someone like Gib. He wasn’t her type at all.

So why couldn’t she get used to him as Josh suggested?

‘I’ll try,’ she said.

Across the kitchen, Gib eased the cork out of the bottle with a satisfying pop and watched Phoebe talking to Josh. For the first time, he wondered if there might be something in this friendship thing. He had found himself envying Josh’s uncomplicated friendship with the three girls, who were all patently delighted to see him. Even Phoebe’s face had lit up, and she had given him an unselfconscious hug.

Gib sensed that she wasn’t someone who hugged indiscriminately. It would be a real sign of acceptance if Phoebe hugged you, he thought. He could imagine with unnerving clarity what it would be like to feel her slender body in his arms, her silky hair against his cheek. He bet she smelt wonderful. He had noticed a faint scent lingering in the air after she had passed once or twice.

All right, every time.

Hugging Phoebe would be his goal, Gib decided. Just in a friendly way, of course, he added hastily to himself. It would be just like hugging Kate and Bella, both of whom had thrown their arms around him when they first met him.

They were both such warm, friendly open girls that it was impossible not to be friends with them. Gib already knew about Kate’s obsession with someone referred to by Bella and Phoebe as Slimy Seb, and he had heard so much about Bella from Josh that she felt completely familiar.

But Phoebe … Phoebe was different. She was much more guarded and inclined to be prickly. Gib knew that he would have to work hard to earn her friendship and the prospect of a hug, but if he did, he thought it would be worth it.

Bella’s Thai crab cakes to start were a huge success. Kate had roasted a chicken and Phoebe had been persuaded to make her trade mark strawberry torte in honour of the occasion. By the end of the meal, they were all replete and relaxed, and Gib felt as if he had been living there for ever.

‘I’ll make some coffee.’ Phoebe pushed back her chair as Gib polished off the last of the torte. Unsettling he might be, but you had to admit that there was something very appealing about a man with a good appetite.

‘How was Celia today?’ asked Bella, sitting back with the air of one anticipating a good story.

Phoebe filled the kettle under the tap. ‘Oh, the usual nightmare,’ she sighed.

‘Phoebe has the boss from hell,’ Bella leant over to fill Gib in. ‘Kate and I love hearing about her. It’s sort of therapeutic. When you realise what Phoebe’s going through with her immediate boss, it makes you realise that your own isn’t that bad.’

‘What’s she done now?’ Kate asked across Bella.

‘She’s completely obsessed with the man who runs this ethical bank we want to make a programme about. Now she’s threatening to dump me from production work altogether if I can’t fix up an interview with him!’

‘She can’t do that, can she?’

‘It’s such a small company, and so many people are desperate to work in television that she can pretty much do whatever she wants,’ said Phoebe despairingly. ‘Personally, I don’t see why we can’t just concentrate on the community projects which are the whole point of the bank, but Celia keeps banging on about the personal angle, and how this guy is the real story.

‘I’m afraid she wants to do one of those horrible, cynical hatchet jobs,’ she went on, opening and closing cupboard doors in search of the cafetière. ‘Her theory is that nobody could make that kind of money and be truly altruistic, so if this J.G. Grieve is setting up a bank, it’s because he’s getting something out of it for himself. So I not only have to arrange an interview with him, I also have to dig up any dirt I can find on him so that Celia can challenge him with it and make herself look like a fearless investigative reporter.’

‘Maybe there’s no dirt to dig up,’ said Gib lazily.

‘It’s beginning to look that way,’ Phoebe agreed. ‘All I’ve found out about him so far is that he goes climbing occasionally. It’s hardly the stuff of which award-winning documentaries are made, is it?’

She poked through the debris on the counter. ‘Where’s the coffee gone?’

‘In the fridge,’ said Bella before reverting to the problem in hand. ‘Maybe climbing is just the first clue you need to track him down,’ she suggested. ‘Mountaineering’s quite a small world, isn’t it, Josh? Someone might have come across him. These rich guys always need someone to nanny them when they do dangerous sports like that,’ she added authoritatively, as if she had years of experience of dealing with the rich and famous.

‘That’s a good point.’ Phoebe straightened from the fridge and turned back to the table. ‘You’re always running up and down mountains, Josh. Have you ever come across a J.G. Grieve?’

‘I can’t say the name means anything to me.’ Josh looked across the table at Gib. ‘What about you, Gib? You’ve done some climbing. Do you know anything about him.’

Tipping back in his chair, Gib pulled down the corners of his mouth. ‘Bankers aren’t the kind of guys I want to spend much time with,’ he said. ‘They’re usually pretty boring.’

‘Well, this guy can’t be that boring, or why would he refuse all interviews?’ Phoebe pointed out. ‘Most people in his position would do anything for publicity. The fact that he won’t even consider it does make it seem as if he’s got something to hide. Maybe Celia’s right about that.’

‘There might be lots of reasons why he doesn’t want to talk to journalists,’ objected Gib, still balanced precariously on his chair.

‘Yes, maybe he had a terrible accident that left him scarred for life,’ Kate put in. ‘His wife died in the same accident, and their only child, and probably their dog as well.’

‘Oh, no, not the dog as well!’ said Gib, much struck by the story unfolding.

Kate nodded firmly. ‘Yes, a little terrier. Called Ruffy,’ she added as an afterthought. ‘And you see that’s why he’s never been able to forgive himself. He’s shut himself away from the world ever since then, unable to face anyone.’

There was a moment’s silence, interrupted by Phoebe bringing the coffee back to the table.

‘Kate has a very rich fantasy life,’ she explained kindly to Gib. ‘You’ll get used to it.’

‘Well, she convinced me,’ he said. ‘I think you should leave the poor guy alone and stop hassling him for an interview!’

‘I wish I could,’ sighed Phoebe. ‘I’m sure that in reality he’s really dull and avoiding interviews is just a way to try and make himself interesting. I think I’ll tell Celia that I’m following leads, and hope that eventually she’ll forget him.’

She held up the cafetière. ‘Who’s for coffee?’

‘Any messages?’ Kate asked hopefully, dropping her bag onto the table. It was over a week since their welcoming dinner for Gib, and she had come home to find Phoebe and Bella draped over the armchairs and nursing a glass of wine each as they grumbled about their respective bosses.

‘No,’ said Phoebe. ‘And before you ask, yes, the phone is working! No post has been discovered under the doormat, there have been no emails or telegrams or bunches of flowers that accidentally got delivered to the wrong address six weeks ago. You’ve got to face it, Kate,’ she said more gently. ‘Seb’s not going to ring.’

‘But why is he being like this?’ wailed Kate.

‘Because he’s vile,’ said Bella firmly. ‘Phoebe’s right. Seb is never going to love anyone but himself. It suited him to string you along for a while, but he’s obviously found someone new to exploit.’

Kate slumped into the sofa with a sigh. ‘You don’t think he was knocked over by a bus and lost his memory?’

‘No.’

‘Or had to go to his grandmother’s funeral on a deserted island where all the phone lines are down and they’re cut off because of storms?’

‘What, for six weeks?’

‘Well, maybe he’s part of some top secret government programme where he’s not allowed to contact anyone and—’

‘No, Kate.’

She sighed again. ‘I know, I know, it’s probably not that. You’re right, he’s not going to call.’

Her eye fell on the cordless phone that was lying half buried under a pile of papers at the end of the sofa, and Phoebe and Bella both jerked upright as she reached for it.

‘Kate, you are not going to ring him!’

‘I’m just checking to see if anyone else called,’ she said with dignity, pressing 1471. She listened to the number on the recorded message and her mouth drooped. ‘No, it wasn’t Seb. Some Bristol number I think.’

Phoebe dropped her head back with a groan. ‘That’ll be my mother. She wants to talk to me about Ben’s wedding.’

‘You’re not really going to go to that, are you?’ asked Bella curiously.

‘I’ve got to,’ she said. ‘Ben’s family and mine are so close, it would be like his sister not being at his wedding.’

‘Still, they can’t expect you to celebrate your fiancé marrying somebody else,’ said Kate.

‘They don’t know it wasn’t a mutual decision to break up,’ Phoebe confessed. ‘They were all so happy when Ben and I got engaged, I just couldn’t bear to tell them. I love Penelope and Derek. Ben’s parents are closer than any of my own aunts and uncles. They would have been devastated if I hadn’t pretended that Ben and I had both agreed that it wasn’t going to work.’

‘They must have had a clue when he told them he was going to marry Lisa, surely?’

‘He didn’t tell them immediately. They might have suspected something, but I think they’d prefer to believe that I’m quite happy with the situation, so if I don’t turn up they’ll realise immediately that’s not exactly the case.’

Phoebe ran her fingers through her hair in a hopeless gesture. ‘Then they’d be upset, and it would spoil the wedding for them, and I can’t do that to them. As it is, Penelope and Mum are desperately worried in case I’m embarrassed, or Ben is embarrassed, or Lisa is embarrassed …’

She sighed. ‘I think they’re secretly afraid that I might make some kind of scene when it comes down to it. I’m dreading going to the wedding on my own. It’s bad enough at the best of times. You know what people are like about single women in their thirties, and it’s going to be worse at this wedding since there’ll be so many old friends there who all knew me when Ben and I were together.

‘I know I’m going to end up looking like Glenn Close in Fatal Attraction. Either people are going to be edging warily around me and making sure any stray bunnies are safe, or they’ll be desperately sorry for me. I’ll spend my whole time being told cheerily that it will be my turn next,’ she finished gloomily.

‘It’s dire, isn’t it?’ said Kate with heartfelt sympathy. ‘It’s either that or being asked if it isn’t time you were thinking of getting married—like you’ve got some kind of choice in the matter!’

Bella had been pondering the problem. ‘What you need,’ she said, ‘is a man.’

‘Tell us something new!’

‘No, I’m serious. You should take a fabulous lover to show off at the wedding.’

‘Oh, yes, and fabulous lovers are so easy to find!’ said Kate sarcastically. ‘Didn’t you hear the announcement? It’s now official: there are now no single, straight men over thirty at all in London, let alone any with a modicum of intelligence and financial stability. And as for trying to find one not suffering from a morbid fear of commitment … forget it!’

‘Maybe not,’ said Bella, ‘but there’s nothing to stop Phoebe inventing one.’

CHAPTER THREE

FOR a moment there was utter silence, and then Kate looked at Bella with new respect. ‘That’s a brilliant idea, Bel!’ she said.

Phoebe was less impressed. ‘I don’t see that an imaginary lover is going to do me much good, however fabulous he is!’

‘The whole point is that he doesn’t seem to be imaginary,’ said Bella. ‘All you need is to hire someone to pretend to be a lover as fabulous as you want!’

‘You don’t mean hire a male escort?’ Phoebe stared at her, appalled. ‘I couldn’t do that!’

‘I’m not suggesting that you pick up some gigolo,’ said Bella reasonably. ‘I bet you’re not the first woman to need an escort in this kind of situation. There must be some reputable agencies that supply presentable types who are used to going along to weddings and official dinners. You’d have to pay for it, of course, but there wouldn’t have to be any funny business.’

‘Yes, and since you’re paying him, you could get him to say whatever you wanted,’ Kate added eagerly, picking up the idea and running with it with typical enthusiasm.

‘He’s bound to be good-looking if he works for an escort agency, so you could pretend he’s incredibly rich and successful, too. You can tell everyone that he utterly adores you, and asks you to marry him every day, but you’re not sure whether he’s exactly what you want, so you’re keeping him dangling.’

‘Why would I want to do that?’

‘So everyone will envy you, of course. The other women at the wedding, anyway,’ Kate qualified. ‘And the best thing is that if anyone meets you in the future and asks what’s happened to him, you can say that you just got bored with his insatiable sexual demands!’

Phoebe couldn’t help laughing. ‘That doesn’t sound very likely!’

‘OK, he can’t satisfy your insatiable appetite!’

‘Oh, yes, I can see myself telling Mum that when she asks why I don’t bring my nice young man down for the weekend!’

‘Kate’s just complicating things,’ said Bella, bringing them back to order. ‘All you need is someone attractive who will brush up nicely in a suit and look suitably adoring so that instead of everyone pitying you or making their husbands and boyfriends cover their eyes whenever you go near them, they’ll all be madly jealous!’

Phoebe let herself imagine what it would be like to turn up at Ben’s wedding with someone apparently rich and good-looking on her arm. She had to admit that as an idea, it had its advantages. Her mother and Penelope would relax and enjoy the wedding for a start, and there was no doubt that it would be easier to meet Ben and Lisa if she wasn’t quite so obviously left on the shelf.

‘I’m not sure I would have the nerve to carry it off,’ she said doubtfully.

Bella was having none of that. ‘Of course you would,’ she said briskly. ‘Now, the first thing is for you to start dropping a few hints to your mother that you’ve met someone special, and then we’ve just got to find you a man and get him primed up with your story.’

‘I don’t know …’ said Phoebe feebly, half dazzled and half terrified by the way Bella and Kate were sweeping her along on the tide of their enthusiasm.

They were always doing this, pushing her into doing things and then holding up their hands in innocence when the said things turned out to be a terrible mistake.

The colour of the bathroom paint—a lurid pink they had assured her would look fantastic—was a case in point.

Ignoring her feeble attempts to come up with some sensible objections—Phoebe was sure there had to be thousands, if she could only think of them—Kate and Bella were discussing how best to track down a reputable escort agency.

‘I suppose we could try the obvious and look in the Yellow Pages,’ said Bella eventually. ‘Where are they, anyway?’

She started hunting through the pile of clutter on the table. ‘I’m sure I saw them here the other day. God, we must tidy up soon, I can’t find anything—oh, that’s where my glove is!’ She fished it out triumphantly and tossed it onto the sofa, where it promptly slipped down out of sight once more.

‘Aha!’ she cried, spotting the directory, dragging it free of a welter of paper and beginning to flick through it without much system. ‘What do I look under? A for agency or E for escorts?’

‘Hold on,’ said Kate slowly. ‘I’ve got a better idea.’

Bella looked sceptical. ‘Not another of your elaborate fantasies?’

‘No, no, this is so simple and so obvious I don’t know why neither of you thought of it,’ she insisted. ‘Why go through an agency when we’ve got the perfect candidate living right here in the house?’

‘Who?’

‘Gib, of course!’

Kate sat back and beamed, delighted with her own brilliance.

‘Gib?’

The other two stared at Phoebe’s outraged tone. ‘I never knew you could do such a good Lady Bracknell impression!’ said Bella, diverted.

Phoebe shot her a look. ‘I’m not asking Gib!’

‘Why not? You’ve got to admit, he’s incredibly attractive.’

‘He’s not that special,’ she protested, unwilling to admit anything of the kind.

‘Oh, come on, Phoebe!’ Kate rolled her eyes in disbelief. ‘He’s gorgeous, and you know it!’

Phoebe’s mouth set in a stubborn line. ‘He’s too pleased with himself,’ she said, ‘and I’m sure he must wear contact lenses. Nobody has eyes that blue!’

‘Don’t be silly, of course they’re real,’ said Kate. ‘You’re not doing much of a job of not finding him attractive if the only thing you can think of to say is that his eyes are too blue!’

‘I can see that he’s quite good-looking,’ Phoebe allowed grudgingly. ‘I just think he would be more attractive if he didn’t know it.’

Kate shook her head. ‘I don’t understand why you don’t like him,’ she said, puzzled. ‘I think he’s great. He’s good fun, he’s easy to talk to, he does his bit around the house, and he doesn’t roll his eyes at the mess or insist on correcting you if you say it’s about five hundred miles to somewhere when in fact he knows it’s four hundred and ninety-seven.’

‘Well, don’t you think that’s a bit fishy?’ countered Phoebe. ‘He’s just a little too perfect, if you ask me. Why hasn’t he got a girlfriend if he’s that wonderful?’

‘Maybe he’s gay,’ said Bella dubiously.

‘He’s definitely not that.’ Phoebe’s voice held a tart edge as she thought of the way Gib flirted with everyone from the plump checkout woman at the supermarket, to the elderly lady who lived next door and the newsagent’s shy wife. Flirtation obviously came as naturally as breathing to him, an automatic response to any female that crossed his path.

Except her, of course. He never flirted with her.

‘I’d prefer him if he was,’ she said.

‘I don’t think he’s gay either,’ said Kate. ‘Maybe he’s got a broken heart like the rest of us,’ she added with a sigh.

‘He’s doing a good job of concealing it, then,’ said Phoebe, unconvinced. ‘He’s always smiling, even when he’s not.’

They blinked at her curiously. ‘What?’

‘You know.’ Too late, she heard how obscure she sounded.

‘No.’

‘Yes, you do,’ she insisted, a little embarrassed now. ‘Even when he’s got a perfectly straight face, you get the feeling he’s laughing at you.’

‘Phoebe, it’s called having a sense of humour,’ said Bella as if explaining to a child. ‘And how many men do we know who need one of those? If only they were all like Gib, life would be a lot easier!’

Phoebe was beginning to get frustrated. Her friends just didn’t seem to be able to understand how jittery Gib made her feel.

She picked morosely at the arm of her chair, trying to find the words to explain. ‘He’s just so vague about everything,’ was the best she could come up with. ‘We don’t really know anything about him, do we? I mean, what does he do all day? He talks about these unspecified projects of his, but as far as I can see he spends his entire time lounging around here.’

‘Well, he’s got a laptop and a mobile phone,’ Kate pointed out in an infuriatingly reasonable voice. ‘He can probably work just as effectively from here as going in to some office.’

‘He doesn’t look like he’s working to me. I’ve never met anyone as lazy!’

‘He’s relaxed. That’s a good sign.’

‘No one’s got the right to be that relaxed,’ grumbled Phoebe, determined not to be convinced.

‘Look, aren’t we getting from the point?’ Bella interrupted, chinking a teaspoon against her glass for their attention. ‘Say what you like, Phoebe, but the fact is that Kate’s right. Gib would be ideal. He looks good, he’s got the confidence to carry the whole thing off, and the best thing is that he’s actually living here, so if your mother or anyone rings and he answers phone, it would be dead convincing!’

‘Maybe, but—’

‘And I’m sure he would be willing to help you,’ Kate chipped in before Phoebe had a chance to think up any more objections. ‘You could always offer to pay him if that made you feel better. I get the impression he could do with some extra money and it would be a way of helping him out without hurting his pride.’

‘Oh, yes, let’s worry about Gib’s pride!’ said Phoebe sarcastically. ‘What about mine?’

‘Just think of it as a business arrangement,’ said Bella. ‘It’s all it would be, after all. You were prepared to go to an escort agency, and who knows what kind of psychopath you could end up with there? At least Gib would be a better option than that!’

Phoebe opened her mouth to point out that she hadn’t in fact got anywhere near agreeing to the idea of hiring an escort, but the sound of the front door banging made her stop.

Bella smiled triumphantly as if she had just won the argument. ‘Here’s Gib now,’ she said unnecessarily. ‘You can at least ask him, Phoebe.’

A few moments later, Gib himself breezed into the kitchen. As usual, he brought with him a surge of energy that swirled around the room as if a fresh wind had blown in with him, and as usual Phoebe found herself braced against the impact of his smile.

‘Hey, girls,’ he said and lifted a carrier bag in their direction. ‘I bought more tonic.’

‘You see!’ whispered Kate. ‘How can you say he’s not perfect?’

Phoebe pretended not to hear. Draining her glass, she began to get to her feet. She was not going to let Kate and Bella push her into this stupid idea. There was nothing wrong with going to Ben’s wedding on her own!

‘Gib, we were just talking about you,’ said Bella.

‘Oh?’ Gib turned from the fridge where he was stacking the bottles of tonic.

‘Phoebe’s got something to ask you.’

Jerking upright, Phoebe glared at her friend. ‘Bel-la,’ she said warningly.

‘Look Phoebe, you’ve been going on and on about how much you’re dreading this wedding,’ Bella said in a firm voice. ‘You were worried about your pride. Well, here’s a way to get through it with your pride intact. What’s the harm in at least asking Gib?’

Gib looked from one to the other. ‘Ask me what?’

‘Come on, Kate, we’ll let Phoebe ask him herself,’ said Bella, getting up. ‘We’ll leave you two alone, and then she can tell you it’s all our fault,’ she added kindly to Gib, who raised an amused eyebrow and turned to Phoebe with an enquiring look.

She put up her chin. ‘I don’t want to ask you anything,’ she said bravely, but Kate and Bella had already whisked out of the door, and she couldn’t follow them because Gib was standing in front of it, his blue eyes alight with that disturbing laughter that never failed to send the air leaking out of her lungs.

‘Yes,’ he said.

Phoebe looked blankly at him. ‘Yes, what?’

‘Yes, I’ll do whatever it is you want me to do.’

‘But you don’t know what it is yet!’