The headline in the national newspaper grabbed my attention immediately – Local artist returns home this summer to Taupo in the Central North Island of New Zealand for exhibition.
    With mixed emotions I tore out the article. I re-read about his pièce de résistance the reporter had mentioned — a portrait called ‘Taupo Girl’.

My request, a few weeks later, elicited disbelief and then hoots of laughter from my three friends, seated around the kitchen table.
    ‘You’re going to do what?’ said two of them in unison.
    ‘I need to make a man think I’ve haven’t stagnated in Taupo, so I could do with a makeover. I want to appear sophisticated and satisfied with my life.’
    Gales of laughter ensued again. Dowdy, studious, efficient and practical were adjectives that sprang to mind when they surveyed me, Libby Andrews, local librarian and their best friend of three years.
    ‘I know you find it amusing. However looking after an invalid parent and working fulltime hasn’t given me much of a chance to treat myself with beauty treatments and fancy clothes. Nor to have much of a social life. Now that Mum’s dead things will be different. I’m going to start afresh.’
    I need to prove to myself that Gabriel is past history.
    Lose the glasses. Cut the hair. Get a new wardrobe, were some suggestions bandied about.
    ‘Most importantly,’ Michelle said archly, ‘Who’s the man?’
    ‘And secondly,’ chipped in Fiona. ‘Why haven’t we heard of him before now?’
    ‘Gabriel Lawson,’ I said with aplomb and with a certain smugness, I must admit.
    Their astonished gazes, except for Lauren, preceded another outburst of hysterical laughter.
    ‘He’s a babe magnet,’ exclaimed Michelle. ‘Whatever can you be thinking of?
    ‘Who’s Gabriel Lawson?’ piped up Lauren.
    ‘A Hugh Jackman look-alike except he’s got black hair and blue eyes,’ said Michelle.
    ‘Wow!’ exclaimed Lauren.
    ‘You haven’t answered my question. Come on. Spill the beans.’ Fiona said.
    Everyone gazed at me, rapt.
    ‘I’ve known him for many years. We went to the same school. He was three years older than me. Now he’s come home. That’s it in a nutshell.’ I replied.
    ‘Were you an item back then?’ asked Michelle.
    ‘Yes.’ I hesitated before adding, ‘At least I thought so.’   
    ‘What happened?’
    ‘He left five years ago.’
    ‘He’s coming back for you,’ gushed Lauren looking dreamy-eyed. ‘How romantic.’
    ‘He’s coming back for an exhibition,’ I stated dryly. ‘I’m not transforming myself for him. I’m doing it for me. I haven’t had the time...’
    ‘Yeah, yeah. That’s your story,’ teased Michelle.
    I intuited, from their expressions, the consensus of opinion. I was a sandwich short of a picnic. Never mind. I was accustomed to it.
    I was disinclined to elaborate further about Gabriel. To tell you the truth, he’d been my first and only love. When he’d promised to return after making his name in the art world, it wasn’t an idle boast. Gabriel was talented. By twenty seven he was renowned in the Northern Hemisphere. Why come home now, I mused? It wasn’t to see me. That’s for sure!

A month later, when Gabriel was due to arrive, my transformation was complete. Contact lenses in situ, a new wardrobe and my blonde hair cut and highlighted into a fashionable bob.
    I saw him striding past the library, on his way to the Great Lake Centre to check his exhibition.
    Unobtrusively I followed him behind the almost floor-to- ceiling windows, until he disappeared through a doorway, directly opposite the library entrance. I spent the morning trying to analyse my feelings about him. By the afternoon I was irritable and incommunicative.
    I endeavoured to put the returned books on the shelves. Well nigh impossible to concentrate with my friends, who had wandered in, giving me the third degree.
    ‘When are we going to meet Gabe the babe?’ Fiona said laughing. The other two joined in.
    ‘I’m trying to work here, guys,’ I said. They’d come to the wrong conclusions about Gabriel. He was here for his exhibition, not for me.
    As they walked towards the library foyer, I ran after them, apologising for being vexed.
    ‘I’ll see you all later. Okay?’
    I swung round quickly, straight into a solid wall of body. Two strong arms encompassed me, holding me steady. Even before I looked up into his memorable blue eyes I smelt his tangy after-shave. I flushed under his direct gaze. His frank admiration unnerved me. Where was my new-found confidence?
    I’d worn two of my favourite newly purchased clothes to work, a deep ruby cashmere V-neck pullover over a black pleated skirt. I knew the outfit looked good on me. Gabriel’s wide-eyed stare confirmed it.
    ‘Hello Libby,’ said Gabriel. His deep voice sent tingles down my spine.
    ‘Hello there. Are you Gabriel?’ Lauren called out.
    Gabriel smiled languidly and then looked amused as I ushered my friends towards the door. No way did I want them hijacking Gabriel before I’d had my say. I imagined them confessing how I’d altered for his visit. ‘The girls are just going.’
    Accepting defeat, they chorused. ‘See you later.’
    ‘Hi Gabriel,’ I said huskily, my heart racing. God, he was more handsome than ever. I cringed inside. I was falling under his spell again. Who was I kidding? Wasn’t love akin to hate?
    Glancing back into the library I saw the head librarian beckoning me back to work. With relief I could honestly say, ‘I have to go.’
    ‘Come and see me this evening after work. I don’t have to leave until seven thirty. I’m staying at the Lanecove. I think we need to have a chat.’
    ‘Yes. I agree.’ The perfect opportunity to confront him once and for all. Again I experienced small niggles of doubt about my supposed animosity towards him, as I looked at his tousled black hair and striking features.    
    ‘I’ve missed you Libby.’
    ‘Hmm.’ Not half as much as I missed you.
    Gabriel gave me a sharp look. Before he could quiz me I said goodbye and quickly moved away.

At five o’clock I stood nervously outside his motel room. On opening the door, he embraced and kissed me gently.
    ‘Mmm, you taste good.’
    ‘I feel I’m a substitute for a refreshing glass of beer.’
    ‘Hardly,’ he laughed wryly. Then he held me at arm’s length.
    ‘Let me look at you properly. You’re just as beautiful. My fingers are itching to sketch you. If I had enough time I’d do an impromtu sitting now.’
    ‘With or without my clothes?’ Stop flirting, my girl.
    Gabriel chuckled, raising his eyebrows. I removed my hands from his grasp and walked into the middle of the room. I gave him a brittle smile. ‘How long are you staying here?’
    ‘As long as it takes,’ he replied.
    ‘I see.’ Not really seeing at all. ‘You’re looking well. I’ve followed your successful career.’ I kicked myself mentally. Fancy saying that. My show of indifference had just evaporated.
    Gabriel stared at me as though he hadn’t heard a word I’d been saying. He seemed nonplussed by my nippy-sweetie attitude. So he should!
    ‘Come and sit down over here,’ he said, coming out of a reverie and waving me over to a comfortable couch.
    While he got us a drink from the mini bar I watched him unobserved. I had to acknowledge he looked even better now than five years ago. Good enough to eat, like one of my favourite Rush Munro ice creams. Still slim, and judging by the firmness of his body he exercised regularly.
    Time to cut to the quick, Libby. Don’t prevaricate.
    ‘Why did you leave me here for five years with no contact whatsoever?’ I asked abruptly.
    ‘When you didn’t answer my letters...’ Gabriel rapped back.
    ‘Hold on,’ I interjected, ‘I sent several letters and they were returned.’
    Gabriel’s jaw tightened. ‘I wrote a lot to you. I moved around. Each time I gave you a forwarding address.’
    ‘I didn’t receive anything. Did you get my letters?’
    ‘Of course. A few. Although after they stopped coming I assumed you’d found someone else and forgotten all about me.
    ‘Why didn’t you telephone?’ I said hotly.
    ‘I tried but you’d changed address.’
    He must have picked up my vibes of scepticism.
    ‘It’s no good thinking I should have tried harder. I thought it was a lost cause.’
     All the anguish, hurt and bitterness I put in to three words. ‘You left me.’
    ‘Are you saying I didn’t love you? My private life had to go on hold for a while but that’s not the same as saying I didn’t stop thinking about or loving you. When you didn’t get in touch...’
    ‘That’s not true. I...’
    ‘No. Let me finish, Libby. I thought it was over. I had to concentrate on my art. It was all I had left. I worked hard for that scholarship to London and I wasn’t going to blow it. A few months ago I met someone from Taupo, at a gallery. When I inquired, they knew of you working in the library. I decided it was time to find out the truth. So here I am.’ He smiled in that heart-stopping way I remembered.
    I weighed up his words. He was convincing. Had I got it all wrong? Had he really suffered like me?
    ‘My mother told me after you left that you hoped I would find someone else. Our romance had been one big mistake.’
    ‘And you believed her? It appears she spun you a web of deceit. She was an embittered woman because of her illness.’
    ‘I felt uneasy about it. Especially after the passionate speech you made at our last meeting. I wrote to discover the truth. I wanted to believe in you.’
    I recalled when I’d last seen him. My blonde hair tied loosely in a ponytail. Dark-rimmed glasses exaggerated my eyes, while my plump teenage body was disguised in nondescript baggy shirt and jeans. Had he really thought me beautiful?
    ‘I don’t know what to believe,’ I cried.
    He reached over and enfolded me in his arms, whispering against my hair. ‘You’re the one I love and have always loved. Surely the ultimate proof is that I’ve come back for you.’ He let me go and gently tapped my forehead with his forefinger. ‘I always saw what was in there. Your self-sacrifice which, on the one hand had me cursing because you wouldn’t leave your mother alone, but on the other, I loved you for it. Follow your heart, Libby. Let’s start again.’
    I was flustered. ‘All these years I thought... Blamed you for... I can’t stay now. Please, I have to go.’
    ‘Will I see you at eight o’clock?’
    ‘Yes. Maybe. Oh, I don’t know.’
    Gabriel raised his eyebrows, saying nothing.
    I got up from the sofa. Avoiding his eyes I turned and left him standing in the middle of the room. ‘Libby, if I can forgive...’ I heard him say as I closed the door. Practically running down the corridor, I ran out to my car. I fumbled for my keys in my bag and then promptly dropped them. After picking them up with shaking fingers, I managed to open the door. I rested my hands and head on the steering wheel at the same time as I took deep breaths, fighting back tears.
    I hadn’t stopped loving him. I’d been deluding myself.
    It was Mum. She must have been so scared I would leave her. She’d intercepted my post. Lied to me. How could she? Five years wasted. Tears flowed at my mother’s deception.

I took my time to get ready. A long soak in a scented bath preceded the decision of what I was going to wear. By the time I was organised my bedroom looked like a mine-field. A variety of clothes lay strewn on the floor, bed and chair. Lipsticks, perfumes and an assortment of eye-shadows lay scattered on my dressing-table.
    Finally I stood in front of a long mirror. I’d chosen a gold and black spangled taffeta dress. Black stockings and shoes enhanced the effect. Piling my hair on the top of my head, with a decorative clasp, completed my outfit. Palms sweating and stomach churning I took one last look and waltzed out of the chaos.
    The taxi picked me up with only minutes to spare. If I had any misgivings about my choice of outfit, the taxi man showed his approval with a low wolf-whistle as I moved away from the car towards the Great Lake Centre.
    Shyly looking around, I searched for Gabriel. I saw a group of people standing around a painting perched on an easel. I was drawn like a magnet until a gap in the crowd gave me a glimpse of what they were admiring. Thunderstruck, my heart pounding, my mouth dry, I stood looking at a younger version of myself.
    ‘Taupo Girl’ had, in essence, captured the last time we’d been out together. I’d sat on a wooden mooring stump down at the Marina, looking down as I fed the ducks at my feet. With artist’s licence he’d changed my usual jeans and over-sized tee-shirt for one of my Indian embroidered cotton dresses. My face was hidden behind a sheet of long hair.
    Did I need any more proof?
    Gabriel saw me, on the fringe of the crowd. He stared, moving his head to one side to gain a better view. Moving forward through the throng, he said tentatively, ‘Libby?’
    I gazed at him before I turned and walked quickly away.
    ‘Libby,’ Gabriel called.
    I carried on walking, faster.
    He tried to follow. Friends snagged him as he passed. I heard him make his excuses as he kept coming after me. Just as he caught up, I stopped a waiter holding a tray covered with glasses of champagne. I picked up two flutes and turned back to an anxious-looking Gabriel. I handed him one of the glasses. Silently I mouthed two words.
    ‘To us.’