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Iris stared at their reflections, Gabriel and Laure on one side of the crack, her on the other, like a photo torn down the middle. She gave a nervous laugh. “I hope it doesn’t mean we’ll have seven years’ bad luck.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be silly, it was an accident. I didn’t like that mirror much anyway.” Iris swooped to pick up a glass and handed it to Gabriel. “Come on, let’s drink.”
Except that nobody seemed to know what to drink to. Instead, they clinked their glasses together and smiled bright smiles.
16
“Are you all right with Laure staying here for the unforeseeable future?” Iris asked Gabriel, when he emerged from the shower.
He gave a helpless shrug. “What choice do we have? We can’t force her to leave, any more than we can force her to go back to Paris. As long as she doesn’t start making any more changes. You are going to make her put the kitchen back to how it was before, aren’t you?”
“Yes, of course.”
“Why did she do it without asking?”
“Apparently, as she’s going to be staying with us longer, she thought she’d arrange it as she would want it.”
“That’s crazy.”
“She thought we’d be pleased. She still thinks that her way is better.”
In the mirror, she watched from under her lashes as Gabriel pulled the towel back and forth over his shoulders, sweeping away beads of water. He’d always been in good shape but he had lost weight since Charlie Ingram. Her senses awakened by the smell of clean skin, she let her eyes travel over his broad chest, then followed the line of hairdownward from his stomach. But when he quickly brought the towel down and knotted it around his waist, she averted her eyes. Had he seen her watching, seen her desire?
“More importantly,” Gabriel said, returning to the beginning of their conversation, “how doyoufeel about her staying longer?”
“Fine. It’s just—” Iris stopped.
“Go on.”
She turned to face him. “She’s quite invasive, and sometimes, I just need to be on my own.”
“Then tell her. She’ll understand.”
Iris reached for her hairbrush. “I can’t even go for a run without her. And she’s still asking to go to the quarry. It’s like she’s obsessed with it.”
Gabriel frowned. “Really?”
“Yes. Yesterday, she wanted to go and see where Charlie fell.”
Incredulity widened Gabriel’s eyes. “But she knows it’s out of bounds, doesn’t she? There’s a huge sign that says trespassers will be prosecuted.”
“She said that in France nobody would block off such a beautiful place just because someone had an accident there. Her argument was—why should everyone else pay for one person’s stupidity?”
Gabriel visibly winced, then took a towel from the rail and rubbed his hair with it, hiding his face from her. “It’s always amazed me how some people get a kick out of visiting the site of an accident. I never thought Laure would be like that.”
He lapsed into silence and Iris gave an involuntary shiver at how much had changed between them. Before, he might have reached out and she would have pulled him toward her, and he would have dropped his towel, lifted her onto the sink and held her there, his arms tight around her. And she would have wrapped her legs around his waist and drawn him into her. But not tonight. Tonight he didn’t reach out to her. Instead, he went through to the bedroom.
She was about to follow him when she found herself hesitating.Gabriel hadn’t given her body as much as a glance. When was the last time he looked at her with desire, had run his finger down her bare back as she stood cleaning her face in the mirror, and laughed as she squirmed and shivered, unable to bear the butterfly touch on her skin? When was the last time he had told her she was beautiful? What if it wasn’t him, but her? Or rather, her body.
Slowly, she turned toward the mirror on the back of the door. She couldn’t remember the last time she had looked at herself,reallylooked at herself, closely, minutely. She’d been aware of changes in her face as the years passed, the fine creasing around her eyes, the faint track lines across her forehead, not too deep yet, not something that she’d wasted time worrying about. But she had never examined her body, had never looked for sagging and drooping. None of the older women in her family—her mum, her aunts—had been as slim later in life as they’d been in their youth, and Iris hadn’t expected to be either. Breasts drooped, waists thickened. That was life.
Raising her hands, she cupped them under her breasts and pushed upward an inch or so. It was where they used to be, Iris thought, looking at them full-on, then twisting her body for a side view. Which means they’d definitely dropped. She lifted her right arm to the side and with her left hand, pinched the flesh between her breast and armpit, and was shocked at how much there was of it. She faced the mirror again and stuck both arms out, checking for loose flesh. There was none, but when she looked closer, she could see the beginnings of it. Leaving her arms outstretched, she let her eyes travel down her body to her waist. She still had one, but it wasn’t as well-defined as before, and she remembered that the last time she’d bought a pair of jeans, she’d had to buy a larger size.
Iris lowered her arms and turned from the mirror. She wasn’t worried about her legs; long and slim, they were her best feature. She reasoned with herself; she hadn’t doubled in size, she’d put on half a stone at the most. Those few extra pounds couldn’t be the reason Gabriel no longer desired her. But still, she was glad to put on her pajamas before walking through to the bedroom.
“How’s Esme?” Gabriel asked as she climbed into bed. “Have you heard anything from her?”
