Undertaking Love

Chapter 4

‘And do you agree with them?’ Gabe said softly, his eyes fixed on Jonny. Marla glanced between the two men in the few silent seconds that followed and saw straight away what Gabriel Ryan was up to, and, judging by Jonny's pink cheeks, he'd succeeded. He was melting in front of her eyes.

‘Because it strikes me that you're a respected man here in the community. Your opinion matters to these people,’ Gabe went on, and Marla watched her campaign leader preen like a lion getting his mane stroked. His ego, more like. She cleared her throat and caught his eye with a deep frown.

‘I most certainly do agree with them,’ Jonny blustered, flapping his arm half-heartedly rather than swishing it this time. He licked his lips and pushed his hand through his hair. ‘You, Gabriel, are a very, very, bad man ..." He sounded as breathless as a heroine about to pass out. Marla groaned as someone at the back heckled 'get a room', and Jonny fanned himself with his speech, clearly at a loss for what to say next other than 'yes, let's get a room.'

‘Marla, would, er, you like to say something?’ he croaked eventually, and stepped down from the lectern without waiting for her reply.

She shot him daggers as she walked past him. This hadn’t been part of their carefully worked-out plan. He was supposed to be the front man of the operation. She was thrown even further off her stride when the reporter stood up and flashed his camera in her face.

‘First of all, thank you everyone for coming tonight, we really do appreciate your support.’

She ignored Dan’s loud snort, but even from the other end of the chapel she didn’t miss the swift dig in the ribs that it earned him from Gabe.

‘As you all know, the “proposed” funeral parlour,’ she paused to shoot Gabe a ‘don’t you dare interrupt me’ look, ‘creates a huge problem for us here at the chapel.’

Gabe lifted a warning brow but let her continue without interruption.

‘If they are allowed to open, there is every likelihood that we will be put out of business within twelve months.’

She looked around at the people in the room, and was gratified to see the troubled expression that crossed their faces.

‘We bring a considerable amount of business to this area. The florist is busier than ever, the B&Bs are full most weekends, and a new one has just opened its doors to meet the demand for rooms from our wedding guests.’

Marla glanced over at Helen and Robert Jones, the owners of the latest boutique B&B. She was encouraged by their nods of agreement.

‘The tea shops are packed, the art gallery sells out, and the pubs and restaurants enjoy full houses. In short, ladies and gentlemen – as long as this chapel thrives, then the community does too. Just yesterday we lost out on a booking directly because of the funeral parlour’s presence. The first of many, no doubt.’

A frisson of shock reverberated around the room and Gabe’s head snapped up. Marla flinched with guilt. It wasn’t a lie, exactly, but in truth, the bride-to-be had probably already decided that the chapel was way too kitsch for her sensible accountant fiancé. The funeral parlour next door had been the last on a long list of issues, and Marla strongly suspected she’d used it as a convenient excuse to make a quick getaway. She brushed off any lingering guilt and threw back her shoulders to deliver her killer punchline:

‘I’m not here tonight to beg for favours. I’m here to spell out the hard facts. If we go under, then I’m sorry to say that the rest of the village will go down with us.’

She let her eyes travel slowly over the faces of her friends and acquaintances in the room, until finally, she settled on Gabe. She was glad to see that she’d managed to wipe that smile off his face.