6. Chapter 6
Lucy arrived back at the car clutching two cheese and onion sandwiches, two bags of cheesy puffs, and a family-size bag of MM’s. They were half-way to Shropshire and, somewhat to Lucy’s disappointment, her car was running just fine.
‘That’s a lot of cheese,’ Jack said as she clambered back into the passenger seat and dumped some of the cheesy fare in his lap. ‘We’ll have some ripe breath by the time we get there. People will give us a wide berth.’
‘Here’s hoping,’ Lucy said through a mouthful of cheese and onion.
Jack peeled open the sandwiches.
‘Mmm, service station food. My favourite,’ he muttered. He shook his head at her. ‘This is all going on the list, so I can ensure you repay me with a suitably significant favour in the future.’ He eyed his curly-edged sandwich warily, took a tentative bite and pulled a face. ‘Ugh, it’s like eating a cheesy flannel.’
Lucy, already onto her second sandwich, rolled her eyes and patted her tummy.
‘Yummy.’
‘So’, Jack said, chewing frantically in what Lucy assumed was an attempt to hammer home his point about the food, ‘we need to work out our story, don’t we?’
Lucy blinked at him over her giant bag of cheese puffs. ‘What story?’
‘The story of how we got together.’
Jack pulled the crust off the second sandwich, looked at it with disgust, and then dropped the whole thing back into the packet with a sigh. Lucy pretended not to notice and dug deep into the cheesy puffs.
‘How about… we were out walking one day, and you slipped and fell, and I caught you,’ he looked at her earnestly and flexed his biceps, ‘in my strong arms.’
Lucy wished she didn’t have a mouthful of cheesy puffs.
‘And you suddenly realised you had all these repressed feelings for me.’
Lucy snorted and chewed furiously, desperate to interrupt this monologue.
‘Or,’ she said, forcing herself to swallow partially masticated cheesy puffs so she could interrupt before Jack’s imagination ran any further. ‘We could just say we were out with friends one night, had a few drinks and one thing...’ she shrugged, ‘led to another. And we crossed the line…’
Jack considered for a moment.
‘No.’ He crossed his arms. ‘I definitely think you made a play for me. Look at me.’
Jack ran his hands over his body and gave her what Lucy assumed he thought was a red-hot, smouldering look.
‘Who wouldn’t want a piece of this?’
He blew her a kiss.
Lucy snorted so hard her head hit the passenger window. Rubbing the sore spot, she decided she needed to rein this in.
‘Okay, okay, Mister Lover Man. This has to be a story I can tell people with a straight face.’
She tossed Jack his crisps.
‘Boring is better. Boring is easy to remember. Let’s just say…. we went out one night with friends. They went home early, we stayed on for a couple more drinks, we kissed.’
She licked her fingers and shoved the rubbish back into a carrier bag.
‘And it went from there.’
‘Wow,’ Jack said. ‘And when was this magical night?’
‘Hmm.’ She thought about when she’d confirmed with Ollie that she would definitely be plus one for the wedding. ‘About three months ago.’
Jack nodded.
‘Okay. So about three months ago, we got pissed and hooked up?’
Lucy frowned.
‘Try to make it sound a bit less sleazy.’
‘Oh, okay. Let’s see.’ He lowered his voice in the style of a movie trailer voice-over. ‘About three months ago, that extra glass of wine broke down our barriers and enabled us to see what should have been obvious all along—that we are meant for each other.’
Lucy honked with laughter.
‘If you can say that to my mother with a straight face, I will call you big man for the rest of the weekend.’
Jack held his hand up for a high five.
‘Deal.’
Lucy high-fived him and worried that he might somehow manage it.
‘C’mon,’ she said. ‘Let’s go. Don’t want to be late.’
Jack glowered at her sideways, but she ignored him and flapped her hands at him to start the engine.
***
A brace of spaniels lay in a patch of shade beneath a tree, panting. The golden one raised its head briefly as Lucy and Jack clambered out of the boiling car, then flopped back down, too hot to bother with the new people.
The hotel sat in wide, manicured lawns at the end of a tree-lined driveway. Age had softened the building around the edges and mellowed the brick to muted red, orange and yellow in the sunlight. Virginia creeper, knotted with clematis, covered much of the front of the original building. A sympathetic extension, done in the original style of the house, had tripled the size of the original Manor House footprint, and the old barns and outbuildings had become function rooms and guest cottages.
Lucy peeled her sweaty dress off her back and wafted it back and forth in vain hopes of a cooling breeze. Jack, sweat beading on his forehead, swore when he opened the boot and one of her bags tumbled out and fell on his foot. Lucy crunched across the gravel to help him and he growled at her. A shout came from the direction of the hotel terrace.
‘Lucy, darling!’
Her mother, elegantly dressed in linen trousers and a crisp cotton blouse, waved from the terrace and began picking her way over the gravel drive in heels. Jack heaved the bags out of the car and piled them up, his face red with heat and effort, his lips pressed into a thin line. The journey had taken them about an hour longer than expected after it turned out Lucy had entered the post-code into the sat-nav incorrectly. The last thirty minutes of the drive had passed in a tense silence.
‘Let me help you,’ Lucy squeaked, reaching towards the bags.
Jack glared at her with an expression that clearly said, don’t bother, it’s done now, and she stepped back out of range.
Lucy’s mother tottered up to them, heels spiking gravel out of her way.
‘Lucy,’ She took her daughter by the shoulders and looked her up and down. ‘I can see the drive has been quite the ordeal.’
She kissed Lucy on both cheeks, her lips barely grazing the skin.
Jack, red-faced and sweating beside the tower of bags, shut the boot with as little force as possible.
‘And you must introduce me,’ her mother cooed, turning to face Jack.
Lucy smiled as Jack smoothed down his shirt and stood up straighter under her mother’s scrutiny.
She took a deep breath.
Here goes nothing.
‘Mum, may I present Jack, my—’ She hesitated for a beat, even though she knew what she had to say. ‘My boyfriend. Jack, this is my mum, Valerie.’
Valerie extended a manicured hand, and Jack, the stress of the bags set aside, raised it to his lips and kissed it.
‘How charming,’ Valerie said, slipping her arm through Jack’s. ‘Lucy has mentioned you, of course, but,’ she batted her eyelashes and simpered up at him, ‘she never said just how handsome you are. Or how tall.’
Jack caught Lucy’s eye and grinned triumphantly. Lucy rolled her eyes so hard she nearly detached her retina.
‘And she never said she got her own good looks from her mother,’ Jack replied, smooth as silk, patting Valerie’s hand where it rested on his arm.
Lucy, unused to seeing this side of Jack, felt her mouth fall open.
‘Well, I can”t wait for you to meet the rest of the family,’ Valerie said, as she guided Jack toward the hotel. ‘Lucy can’t keep you a secret any longer!’
Over her shoulder, she called, ‘Lucy, drinks are this way!’
Lucy mumbled something unintelligible, wafted her damp dress again, and stared at the stack of bags as Valerie and Jack retreated towards the shade of the hotel terrace.
The spaniels shifted listlessly under the tree, searching for a cooler patch of grass. Lucy could hear the clink of glasses from the terrace and sighed. She could still taste the cheesy puffs she’d eaten earlier, and her lips felt parched as she contemplated a cold glass of wine and a cool shower. She was weighing up the bags to find the two most manageable ones when Jack’s voice was in her ear.
‘Come here,’ he said, reaching round her to take some bags.
‘Oh,’ Lucy puffed happily and let go of the bags. ‘My mother released you, did she?’
‘Oh yes, when I told her it wasn’t right,’ he put his hand on his heart and pulled a face of great earnestness, ‘for me to leave you with the luggage, she let me go. Such a gentleman, she said. Said you were a lucky girl.’
‘She hasn’t seen your downward dog in yoga,’ Lucy muttered, slinging the heavier bags Jack’s way. ‘Or hung out with you the morning after a beer and curry night.’
‘Don’t be crass, darling,’ Jack said, blowing her a kiss. ‘Remember—you’re a lucky girl, and I am very handsome.’
Jack swung the bags easily over his shoulder and set off back in the direction of the terrace, where Valerie was frantically waving at them. Lucy shuffled behind, lugging one of the lighter bags and muttering something about smothering Jack in his sleep.
‘Over here, darlings!’ Valerie called. ‘Come and say hello before you check in.’
Lucy, after five hours in a hot car with no air conditioning, her dress sticking to her back, and her hair sticking to her forehead, would dearly have loved to scurry off to their room and a cold shower. Jack, however, somehow far less frazzled and wilted by the journey, despite their unexpected detour around Shropshire countryside, was divesting himself of luggage and greeting her parents. Lucy dragged the bag up the terrace steps, puffing and panting, before dropping it like a lead weight at the top. She flicked her hair from her eyes, wiped her sweaty palms on her dress and grudgingly shuffled up to the group.
‘Jack.’ Valerie was clasping his hand and gazing at him like a new favourite son. ‘This is my husband and,’ she glanced back at Lucy panting her way along the terrace, ‘Lucy’s father, James.’
Her father shook Jack’s hand vigorously, the ubiquitous large glass of red in his other hand.
‘Welcome, Jack, you’re very welcome,’ he said, pumping Jack’s hand.
Lucy locked eyes with her father over Jack’s shoulder, and he smiled broadly as he opened his arms.
‘Sweetheart, so good to see you.’
Jack stepped aside, and Lucy staggered into her father’s solid and comforting hug and inhaled his familiar smell of Old Spice aftershave, cigar smoke and a hint of merlot. James was tall and solid, with a modest middle-aged spread that Valerie’s attempts at diets had failed to fully curb. Of all her family, Lucy felt closest to her father. He was a little quieter, like her. To Lucy, he seemed like an oasis of stillness amongst the tumult and urgent energy her mother and sister brought.
‘Hi, Dad.’
‘Hello, my Lucy-Lou,’ James murmured into the top of her head.
Valerie flapped her hands, urging them to be seated.
‘Heather, Mark and their boys are due in the morning,’ she said, gesturing to James to bring more chairs around for Lucy and Jack. She smiled at Jack and leaned into him. ‘Thomas and Peter are Mark and Heather’s sons. They’re both in the ceremony. Thomas will be fine. He’s such a good boy. Very mature for six. But I do hope little Peter can manage.’ She looked over at Lucy. ‘He’s at that difficult age. Your grandmother,” Valerie”s voice took on a weary note, ”is napping upstairs. She came down with your father and I and is sleeping off her lunch.”
Lucy saw her father hide a smile by taking a sip of wine as his wife mentioned his mother, Lucy”s nanna.
Her mother continued.
‘Ollie and Sophie, our happy couple, checked in a couple of hours ago. They’re having a quiet afternoon before the event this evening.’ She clasped her hands with glee. ‘I am so delighted to have you all here with me.’
As she listened to her mother position herself at the centre of the weekend’s events rather than the absent bride and groom, Lucy could swear she felt a stomach ulcer start to form. Valerie reached over and tucked Lucy’s hair behind her ear.
‘Are you all right, darling? You don’t look quite well.’
Lucy leaned back out of her mother’s reach.
‘Yes, it’s just hot.’ She fanned herself with her hand. ‘Aren’t you boiling?’
‘It’s this dress you’ve got on,’ Valerie said, plucking at the fabric as if she’d never seen the like before. ‘What is this fabric? Some sort of polyester?’ She leaned in. ‘Polyester won’t let the skin breathe, darling.’ She patted Lucy’s knee. ‘You were always a hot and sweaty child.’
Lucy stared at the terrace and willed a sink hole to appear. Jack, who had somehow ended up seated between her mother and father, gave a slight smile and crooked an eyebrow at her, as if to say, I see what you mean.
‘We really should go and check in,’ Lucy said, and made to stand up.
‘Nonsense,’ James said, handing her a glass of chilled white wine. ‘You’ll have a drink with us and celebrate us all being together. Then you can check in.’
Well.
So long as there was wine to be had, how bad could it be? She took the offered glass, and her father raised his in a toast.
‘To family,’ he said. ‘All being together.’
‘And to Jack,’ her mother added. ‘We’re glad to know Lucy has met someone, at last.’
Jack blew her a kiss across the table, and she smiled through gritted teeth and blew one back.
The wine was tart and fruity and ice-cold. She took a long sip and felt the coolness as it travelled down, then winced at a sudden ice-cream headache.
‘Here now,’ her father said, standing up and offering his chair. ‘You and Jack can sit together.’ He gestured for Lucy to take his seat beside Jack as he moved to sit beside his wife.
‘Oh no, it’s okay,’ Lucy began, as Jack said, ‘Thank you, James, that’s very kind.’
He patted the newly vacated seat beside him. Lucy unglued herself from where she was sitting and plumped down beside Jack.
‘Feeling better now, darling?’ Jack asked, getting into the role.
He took her hand and held it. It was far too hot for holding hands, but Lucy couldn’t very well rebuff him. So she smiled and squeezed Jack’s fingers a little too hard. He responded by kissing her hand while gazing into her eyes. She smiled back with her mouth only. Her mother and father looked on and nodded.
Lucy felt the next three days spread out before her like a chasm.
***
Lucy squinted at the door numbers as they trundled down the windy corridor, ancient floorboards creaking every few steps.
‘Here, this is it.’ Lucy nodded at the hotel room door. ‘212.’
She swiped the hotel room key card, and it flashed red and beeped.
Jack, wrestling with his bag as well as several of Lucy’s, puffed, ‘Do it more slowly.’
Lucy swiped the card again, and the light went red.
‘Bloody hell. It’s not working.’
She wiped the card on her dress and tried again.
Red light.
‘Right, I’ve got to go all the way back down to reception to get this sorted,’ she huffed.
Jack dropped all the bags and took the card. ‘Give it here. You’re going too fast. You have to do it sloowwly.’
Lucy glared at him, folded her arms, and prayed to all that was right and just in the world that the card wouldn’t work. Jack slid the card through the reader. The red light came on. Lucy was triumphant.
‘Yes! See? It’s not me, it’s the card, smart arse.’
Jack slid the card through once again. The green light came on.
He turned and gave her a grin as broad as the Cheshire cat’s. He raised his eyebrows in a quizzical expression and spread his hands.
‘I’m sorry. You were saying?’
Lucy ignored him and stalked into the room, leaving half her bags in the corridor.
‘I’m not the bell boy,’ Jack called after her.
Lucy returned and started gathering bags.
‘I’m perfectly capable of carrying my own bags, thanks, I just had to get away from you before your ego smothered us both.’
She wheezed with the effort of lugging her bags into the room. She dropped one in the entrance way but refused to stop and start again, so she started kicking it into the room with one foot while peering over the bags piled into her arms to see where she was going.
Jack followed with his single bag, still smiling.
‘How are you doing there? Need a hand?’ he asked sweetly.
‘Sod off,’ Lucy said, dropping the bags onto the bed and collapsing on top of them.
‘Oof!’
She looked around the room. It was in the older part of the hotel and was a spacious room with dark wood antique furniture. A king-size bed with a huge wooden frame sat squarely in the centre of the room. Lucy glanced at it then averted her eyes.
‘So,’ Jack said as he closed the door. ‘We’ve met your mum and dad, and they love me, check.’ He gave a thumbs up. Lucy groaned. ‘What’s happening tonight?’
Lucy started digging through bags.
‘It’s just an informal buffet and drinks this evening because people are arriving at different times. Mostly family, a handful of friends, I think. Most of the guests arrive tomorrow.’
‘Exactly how many people are coming to this thing?’
Jack was pulling shirts and trousers out of his holdall. They were remarkably neat and uncreased. Lucy thought of her own packing technique and glanced around the room for an iron.
‘Um, I think about a hundred people are invited for the whole weekend, but about another hundred are invited to the ceremony and reception on Saturday.’
‘Bloody hell! I don’t think I even know that many people.’
Lucy rubbed her temples and screwed up her nose.
‘I’m getting a migraine just thinking about it. All that small talk…so much time with Heather and mum…’
Jack grabbed his toiletry bag and a towel from the bed and started heading for the shower.
‘Hang on!’ Lucy called. ‘We need to set the room up.’
Jack stopped and looked about.
‘Looks pretty set up to me.’
‘We’re hardly sharing a bed, are we?’ Lucy said, hands on hips.
She watched him glance about the room.
‘Ahh. Good point,’ Jack said slowly.
‘And that sofa won’t be much fun to sleep on.’
Lucy gestured to a decorative but uncomfortable-looking chaise longue.
‘Luckily for you, I came prepared.’ Lucy dragged a bag out from the pile. ‘Ta da! I brought a blow-up mattress.’
Jack turned his back to the bathroom and threw his towel on the bed.
‘Why is it lucky for me? How come I am the one who’s sleeping on the blow-up mattress?’ He folded his arms. ‘You dragged me into this. The least you can do is give me the bed.’
Lucy stared at him.
‘Well, I had thought you might be a bit more gallant about it. We could at least talk about—’
‘Gallant? Lucy, we haven’t been stranded in a hurricane with only one room left in a remote inn. You planned this. You asked me to give up my time and my weekend, but you managed to leave out the part where you expect me to sleep on the floor for three nights?’
‘Blow up mattress,’ Lucy corrected him. ‘It’s really very comfortable, it’s fleece lined.’
‘Then you’ll be just fine on it.’
Jack grabbed the towel and strode back over to the bathroom.
‘Remember,’ he said, as he turned in the doorway. ‘You’re a lucky girl.’
He grinned and disappeared.
Lucy glowered at the closed door as the shower cranked to life.
She dragged out the air bed foot pump.