Undertaking Love

Chapter Eighteen




Melanie held the small envelope over the kettle and winced as the steam scalded her fingertips. It always looked easier than this in the movies, she thought, as she finally managed to open the damn thing and extract the note.

She stopped and sighed at the sight of Gabe’s bold, slanted handwriting, even though she already knew perfectly well that it was from him. But the dreamy smile slid from her face as she scanned the missive.



Dear Marla,

Something to help make your July 4th go with a bang, and to say I hope we can enjoy a less explosive friendship from here on in.



Yours,

Gabe

X


Melanie read it twice more. Her heart thumped with adrenalin from her own audacious detective work as well as annoyance at Gabe’s blind determination to smooth things over with that woman.

Why couldn’t he just let it be? Dora had unknowingly become the fall guy for last weekend’s debacle, and Melanie had learned a valuable lesson. She needed to be less obvious with her meddling.

Gabe had gone off to some undertaking convention for the day and left her in charge, making her all glowy inside with the knowledge that he trusted her. She’d even managed a mechanical smile earlier when Gabe had asked her to run a package over to the chapel at some point during the day. She sat down again at reception and poked the offensive parcel with her toe, hard enough to put a little rip in the pretty paper Gabe had used to wrap it. Bad luck if Marla’s gift looked a little shabby and hastily put together by the time it arrived. A surreptitious glance under the ripped corner of paper revealed the contents of the box. Fireworks. Melanie all but growled with anger as she slid the little note back into its envelope, but didn’t re-attach it to the parcel. Instead she placed it on the desk in front of her, Tapping it with one finger and trying to decide if she had the guts to bin it.

A tiny scream of temper escaped as she recalled his sign off again.

Yours, Gabe. X

He wasn’t Marla’s.

He was hers. Or at least, he should be.

Bugger. She really didn’t want to deliver the parcel, which was why it was still sitting under her desk at gone half past four. She’d sort of intended to take it across at lunch time, but this and that had come up and it hadn’t taken much at all to prevent her from going over there.

Hope we can enjoy a less explosive friendship.

Pah. He wasn’t that witty with the notes he left for Melanie.

Do this please, Melanie, or ring so and so please, Melanie, was about the sum of it. Although actually, a couple of weeks back he had left one note where he’d signed off with an x under his name, a much handled post-it note that now resided in her bedside table for nightly stroking purposes.

She scowled at the fireworks. It was great big box to lug about. What did he think she was, a packhorse? She wanted to be the one who received his thoughtful gifts and notes, not just the delivery girl to someone else who clearly didn’t want or deserve his attention.

Much as she’d like to go and fling the box in the nearest canal, there was no way out of the fact that she had to take them to the chapel. Gabe was sure to mention them to Marla, and then where would she be? She’d just have to tough it out, because, well, love was just like that sometimes.

Outside the window, the owner of a small open-top sports car revved his engine as he made a meal of parking. She recognised the driver and huffed again. Great. Another man hanging onto Marla’s irresistible coat tails. Melanie had originally been thrilled the feckless guy from the newspaper had arrived on the scene. Surely he would stamp on any buds of friendship between Marla and Gabe? She was doing everything she could at this end to subtly nurture the ‘us and them’ mentality between the funeral parlour and the chapel, but Rupert had so far proved himself too much of a fop to be much use as an accomplice.

She watched him unfurl his gangly limbs out of the car with a sour taste in her mouth. The man oozed wealth and self-satisfaction in his Ray-Bans and white Ralph Lauren jeans.

A zing of irritation flashed through her as he reached down into the back of the car and emerged with a bunch of flowers. Marla bloody Jacobs should just be done with it and erect a sign outside the chapel telling lovesick gift-givers to form an orderly queue. And then the brilliant idea struck her.

Quick as a flash, she hopped around the desk and flung the front door open just as Rupert rounded the bonnet of his car.

‘Excuse me!’

She called out, and added a loud cough for extra security. She didn’t want to risk him not hearing her now that she’d spotted her big chance.

Oh good, he was turning around. Melanie felt the heat flood her cheeks.

‘Could I, err, have a word please?’

Rupert slid his glasses down his nose and glanced over his shoulder as if he expected her to be talking to someone behind him. Finding no one, he shrugged and sauntered back across the road.

Melanie faltered. Close up he really was a rather attractive man, in a clean cut and useless sort of way.

‘I have something … a parcel. It’s to be delivered to the chapel.’

‘Have you mistaken me for the postman?’

His smug smile did nothing to lessen the pompousness of his joke, but Melanie decided to play along with a nervous laugh.

‘Hang on there a sec please …’ She ducked back inside the funeral parlour, and emerged again a few seconds later, dumping the big box awkwardly into Rupert’s arms.

He stared at it with a furrowed brow. He’d obviously been expecting something redirected from the regular mail, not a brightly covered gift box. He looked at Melanie blankly.

‘It’s fireworks. From Gabe.’

His jaw tightened, giving away his annoyance.

‘Fireworks? What the hell for?’

‘It’s July fourth. Americans have fireworks. Independence Day, and all that.’

A look of pure hatred turned Rupert’s handsome face momentarily ugly. Melanie took the limp flowers dangling from his fingertips and laid them on top of the gift box as an idea formed in her head.

‘The card has fallen off. It’s on my desk. I could get it, if you think … ‘

Melanie held her breath as she waited for him to connect the dots, and breathed out as the light of understanding clicked on.

‘Should I get it, do you think?’ She tipped her head to the side and regarded Rupert with round, innocent eyes.

‘No, no need for that. I’ll see that Marla gets them.’

Melanie nodded and rewarded Rupert with a small smile for taking the bait.

‘’Kay then. Thanks.’

She watched him swagger away towards the chapel, struggling to get his sunnies back in place before he opened the door.

Melanie brushed her clammy hands down her skirt as she went back inside. Rupert had just gone up a notch in her estimation. Perhaps now he would be the ally she’d hoped he would be. She slumped into her chair, exhausted. All this duplicity was turning out to be hard work, but also strangely enjoyable. Hell, she might even let herself eat the Mars bar later she’d been saving up for a special occasion for the last three months.



‘Rupert, that is so thoughtful!’ Marla flung her arms around Rupert’s neck and hugged him tight. His gift touched her deeply. She hadn’t expected him to even realise the significance of the date, let alone go out of his way to find fireworks in the middle of summer.

‘Will you help me with them tonight?’

She pulled the lid off the box as she spoke and laughed with delight at the sight of the multi-coloured rockets.

‘We’ll have to do it here though, your garden is way too small for that thing.’

Rupert eyed the large firework in Marla’s hand. She nodded. He was right. Her garden was tiny with overhanging trees, and Rupert’s communal apartment garden was out of the question. No, the chapel garden out back would be perfect.

She placed the rocket back in the box and turned to Rupert. His skin was warm and smelled of expensive aftershave; she wound her arms around him and nestled into his neck.

‘Thank you.’

His hands moved straight down to massage her bottom as he sought out her lips with his own.

‘You can show me the full extent of your appreciation later.’

She kissed him and leaned back in the circle of his arms.

‘Oh, go on then. I’ll let you light the first rocket.’

Rupert laughed low and dirty.

‘You’ve just lit my rocket.’ He rocked against her and pinched her bum hard to prove his claim. Marla jumped away and slapped his hand.

‘Rupert, I’m at work. Come back later.’

He rolled his eyes.

‘You’re the boss. I’ll be back at eight. Be ready for action.’

Marla watched him leave, not entirely sure if he’d been talking about the fireworks or not. Probably not. She bit her lip, and tried to summon enthusiastic thoughts, not prepared to give headspace to the fact that the thought of sex with Rupert didn’t excite her as much as it really ought to.

She knelt down and fussed Bluey’s ears.

‘Don’t worry darling, I’ve got some lovely furry earmuffs and a big bone to distract you from the fireworks.’

Bluey was impractically large for her office, but her neighbours complained if she left him at home because he wailed like a baby. As long as he was with Marla he was happy, a feeling that went both ways. Bluey’s constant presence at her side was something she’d come to love and rely on. On previous bonfire nights he’d proven himself to be mostly unfussed by fireworks, which was just as well if he was going to be here for their little display later.



Melanie took the Mars bar out of the fridge and sliced it into tiny slivers, before arranging it on the plate in a perfect spiral.

‘I’m going to my room.’

She wasn’t sure why she bothered to tell her father. It wasn’t like he could actually care less whether she was in her room, or in the house at all for that matter. As long as his dinner hit the table at six o’clock and she left betting money on the side each morning, he didn’t give a damn what happened in between.

Up in her room, Melanie perched on the edge of her bed and slid open the bedside drawer. Gabe’s post-it note from a few weeks back was the only thing in there, and she held it for a few seconds to help herself to calm down. She’d just placed it back in the drawer and reached out for a piece of chocolate when the most terrible thought struck her.

The other note.

The note from the fireworks box was still on her desk.

Shit, shit, shit.

Cold panic iced her heart. There was no way she could leave it until the morning. Gabe might get there early and spot it; she couldn’t bear him to question her on what had happened.

She’d have to go back and get it right now. Thank God Gabe had trusted her enough to give her a set of keys. He’d never know that she’d been back there this evening.

She tipped the Mars bar into the dustbin in disgust and dashed outside.