19. Chapter 19
Sunlight sliced between the gap where the curtains didn’t quite meet and fell across Jack’s face. He groaned under his breath and stretched, easing out the kinks and aches from a night spent on the chaise longue. Across from him, further into the shadows of the room, Lucy slept on, curled up on her side, her hand cradling her face, hair curled around her neck and shoulders.
Jack thought back to the kiss the night before. He didn’t know where it had come from, that sudden urge to kiss her like that. He couldn’t recall any gap between feeling that it was the only thing it made sense to do, and taking her face in his hands. She had opened up to him so easily; if they hadn’t been interrupted, who knows how things might have ended.
He levered himself off the chaise longue and stretched to the ceiling, feeling his muscles shake off the shape of the chaise. He slipped on a pair of trousers, pulled a T-shirt over his head and sloped off in search of coffee and food.
The smell of hot, buttery toast and fresh croissants pulled at his empty stomach as he strolled into the restaurant. It wasn’t that early, but most of the hotel guests were guests at the wedding, and many of them had been up late the night before, so the breakfast room was quiet. He saw Ollie’s best man, Dave, sitting with their friend Greg across the room at a window table. Dave looked pretty green, and Greg was pouring him more coffee and pushing toast in front of him. They glanced up, and Dave managed a tremulous smile before his eyes fell back to the table. Greg gave him a thumbs up and made an eek face about Dave. Jack grinned.
Lucy’s Aunt Paula was sitting next to an air-conditioning vent and periodically holding a glass of ice-water to her cheeks while consuming a full English. Georgia, one of Sophie’s bridesmaids, appeared to have been up bright and early and was sitting in a corner wearing a demure gingham sun dress, eating a bowl of fruit with a fork and determinedly making eye contact with no one.
The young waitress approached Jack and asked him where he’d like to sit and what she could get him for breakfast.
‘Can I sit on the terrace?’ he asked, keen to avoid other guests as they trickled in. ‘And just coffee, for now, thank you.’
The waitress smiled shyly.
‘Sure, no problem.’
She smiled, nodding towards the French doors before scurrying off.
He sidled through the doors onto the terrace and found a spot in the shade. Even at this early hour, it was hot. The final preparations for the big day were in full swing. The reception itself was taking place in a huge marquee on the hotel grounds, as the function room couldn’t hold all the additional guests coming to the party in the evening. A florist pushed a large cart of flower arrangements across the lawn in the direction of the marquee, and the wedding planner marched past, high heels sinking into the grass, clutching a large box full of lavender ribbon and swags of fabric.
A small boy was stomping around and around the edge of the fountain while his father urged him to be careful and not fall in. Further down the gardens, a woman was being walked by two spaniels. She disappeared abruptly into a hedge just as Jack’s coffee arrived.
Jack opened his phone and read the email again.
Hi Jack,
Good to meet again last week and finalise the terms of the sale agreement.
Please find attached the contract from Casston Media Communication’s lawyers confirming the terms of the sale, including you working with them for a period of 12 months from the sale of the company to ensure a smooth transition for the business, your clients and staff.
As you know, Casston is keen to press ahead, and per the recent meeting, would like confirmation from you by Monday next week that you wish to proceed.
Looking forward to hearing from you,
Regards,
Steven
Jack put down his phone and took a gulp of his coffee. The email was dated five days ago and was the final step in a process that had been going on for months, ever since Casston Media Communications had approached him about buying BrandFriendsSocial.
Jack had never imagined he would build a company and then sell it on; he had imagined he’d build something and keep on building it. But he also knew that selling would allow his company to become part of a bigger operation, with more support and opportunities for his clients and more development for his staff. He had other business ideas he wanted to develop, ideas that would only be possible to work on once he had the time and the funds from the company sale. Consulting in New York for a year—on more reasonable hours than he worked now—wouldn’t slow that down too much, and the new contacts he would make could prove valuable.
He pulled up the file on his phone with the new app idea he was developing and scrolled through the outline business plan. The plan was for an app that acted as a one stop shop for all events and activities in any area. No more getting frustrated scrolling multiple websites to try to find out what was on, or missing out on popular seasonal events in your area—like the kids meeting Santa—because the app held it all in one place, would learn a user’s preferences and alert people once tickets went on sale for events they wanted to go to. It could even track your location, so when you went away it would let you know what was on nearby. Jack smiled as he thought of the impact this could have both for families trying to plan days out, and for visitor attractions trying to reach their audience. He felt the rising excitement of a new venture, a feeling he hadn’t had since the early days of BrandFriendsSocial. He loved what he had built, and he loved his team and (most of) his clients. But the day-to-day management of the business had taken its toll; it wasn’t where his passion lay. He wanted to go back to the beginning, to build something from the ground up again. Letting go of what he had created would be a wrench, but the time was right. He had been working on the new app in fits and starts for a couple of years, but getting it off the ground needed time and resources he didn’t currently have. Selling the company solved both problems and would let him fall in love with his work again.
A couple of weeks ago, he had imagined that when the final sale agreement came through, he’d sign it within hours. But he’d had the email for five days and done nothing yet, running closer and closer to the deadline. Jack read the email once more and scrolled through the attached contract.
‘Sale to include the transfer of all clients, assets and personnel….’
‘CEO of BrandFriendsSocial to continue to work with the company for a period of 12 months following the sale, from the New York Headquarters of Casston Media Communications…’
A year in New York had seemed like an exciting prospect when it was first brought up a couple of weeks ago, but now that it was close to becoming a reality, he was less sure. Friends knew he was in talks to sell the company, but they didn’t know it might now mean him moving away for at least a year. That aspect of the sale terms had emerged later. Even Lucy didn’t know he might be leaving, and he had only a couple of days left to tell her before he had to sign the papers. He wished he had persisted in telling her that day in the café and not let the conversation carry them in another direction. It would have seemed like nothing then––just telling a friend about something going on at work and an adventure he might be going on. She would have been delighted for him and promised to visit him, and they would have made plans, checked flights and even penciled in dates. Lucy would have spent the rest of the morning talking in a terrible New York accent and periodically singing New York by Frank Sinatra. She would have been unswervingly supportive of what he decided, he knew that. But he didn’t tell her—it felt easier not to somehow, not to say out loud that he might be going, to just enjoy the day as it was.
He had thought he’d tell her the next day, and then the day after that. And as the days passed, and he began to feel the full significance of a year away from all he knew and loved he put it off. He knew deep down that it was the kind of news that changed everything between people; the dynamic would shift between them as soon as Lucy knew. They’d be walking on different paths. He wanted Lucy and all his friends to be just as they were—the life they all lived together preserved as it was. He would just slip away for a while, then slip back again. And now they were at her brother’s wedding, signing the contract was imminent, and departure was just a few weeks away. There was no good time to talk about it—not now, not there.
The boy running around the fountain finally slipped and fell in, and a watery wail rose up as his father hurriedly scooped him out and pressed him to his chest, getting soaked in the process. Jack could hear desperately soothing repetitions of oh dearie me punctuating the wails, as the father hurried the soaking, squalling child away from the quiet gardens.
A hotel worker puffed as he pushed a huge trolley precariously laden with wedding chairs covered in lavender bows along the bottom of the terrace towards the marquee. A bow got snagged as the procession passed a hedge. The trolley came to an abrupt stop, and the hotel worker mumbled, fuck’s sake, as he tried to unpick it, then suddenly realised Jack was sitting nearby, blushed and grimaced, sorry.
Jack smiled and shook his head—no problem.
Maybe more lavender bows would get stuck in shrubs along the way.
‘Oh. There you are.’
A tousled honey-coloured head stuck sideways out of the door and blinked in the morning sunshine like a badger coming out of its den. Lucy squinted and frowned at the sun and said, ‘urrghh,’ before scurrying across the terrace to join him in the shade. She had thrown on a loose sundress, and he could see a few more golden freckles across her cheeks and shoulders after the kayaking trip the day before. The sudden rush he felt at seeing her took him by surprise, and he busied himself rearranging cups and cutlery on the table.
‘Too early to be so bright,’ Lucy grumbled as she dragged her chair further into the shade.
‘Ahhh, a good morning to you too, Little Miss Cheerful,’ Jack said with a grin.
‘It’s early,’ Lucy muttered, ‘and I need coffee. It’s on its way,’ she added, before Jack could say anything else.
She leaned back in the chair and took a deep breath, her neck falling back and her dress pulling tighter across her chest. Jack sipped his coffee and trained his eyes on the breakfast menu.
‘Have you seen Dave?’ she asked, as the waitress arrived with a fresh pot of coffee. She snickered. ‘He’s in a baaad way…Greg said some of them were still up drinking at 04.00.’
‘How is he even up at this time, then? Surely better to sleep it off?’
‘Too hot to sleep,’ Lucy said, wagging a finger towards the sun. ‘And Greg thought Dave needed to eat ASAP.’
They fell quiet, but Jack could feel Lucy looking at him. He turned to look at her and she was peering at him out of the corner of her eyes.
‘Yes?’ he said.
‘Just checking that, um.’ She poured her coffee. ‘That we’re still okay after…’
Jack waited, wanting to make her say it.
Lucy looked around furtively.
‘After last night.’
‘Why? What happened last night?’
He opened his eyes wide and questioning, as he sipped his coffee.
‘What?! You know what...’ Lucy burst out laughing. ‘You know exactly what I’m talking about.’
‘Ah, yes.’ Jack returned his cup to the saucer. In a whisper loud enough for the returning waitress to hear, he said, ‘When you tried to have your way with me.’
The waitress started clearing away Jack’s empty coffee pot and milk jug.
Lucy said to her, ‘I didn’t try to have my way with him.’
The waitress shook her head in horror at being in any way drawn into the conversation and hurried away, cups clattering on the tray.
‘But if I had wanted to,’ she added, a smile playing about her lips, ‘you’d have been more than eager.’
Jack could feel warmth creep into his face as he recognised the truth in her words and was glad they were sitting in the shade. He had wondered more than once just how far things would have gone if the waiter hadn’t shown up to fetch cleaning supplies.
‘Okay, okay.’ He held his hands up. ‘I think everyone had plenty to drink, and we all got carried away, and now it can be The Thing We Never Speak of Again.’
‘Yes,’ Lucy agreed, banging her cup down a little too noisily. ‘What happens at the wedding, stays at the wedding.’
‘Exactly. The first rule of accidentally snogging your friend outside a cleaning supply cupboard is—’
‘Don’t talk about snogging your friend…’
They both snorted with laughter. It was going to be okay.
Lucy laughed, but he saw her smile fade, and her face suddenly seemed very still.
‘Luce? You sure it’s all okay?’
He reached out and touched her arm.
She abruptly moved her arm away.
She laughed, but it seemed a bit strained.
‘Of course! I’m just tired and,’ she rubbed her eyes, ‘thinking about today and…’ She seemed to drift off for a moment, losing her train of thought. Then she added, ‘And who in my family can I argue with today,’ she joked and grinned.
They fell into an easy silence, and Jack decided that this was as good a time as any to tell Lucy about the sale and the move abroad. They might not get another quiet moment together, and he had barely forty-eight hours before the contract needed to be signed.
‘Listen, Luce, there is actually something I need to talk to you about.’
He cleared his throat. Lucy looked over at him, surprised by the sudden serious tone. Her eyes were studying his face, searching for clues.
‘Is this about….’
‘It’s not about last night,’ he said, with a half-smile.
She looked relieved and waited, her eyes pressing him to speak.
‘You know I’ve been talking about selling the business,’ he said, watching her face.
‘Yes,’ she said. ‘Has it fallen through or something?’
‘No,’ he replied. ‘It’s looking like it’s going ahead. In fact,’ he cleared his throat, ‘I’ve got the papers for the sale, and the deadline to sign and return them is,’ he hesitated, ‘is Monday.’
‘Oh my god,’ Lucy’s hands flew to her face. ‘Jack, that’s amazing! Congratulations, I’m so happy for you.’
She launched herself across the table and wrapped her arms around him. He held her close, and for a moment buried his nose in her neck and breathed in the smell of her, all sun cream and vanilla and fragrant shampoo. Then she pulled back abruptly and moved back across the table. She looked awkward, as if she regretted the hug. Jack felt a pang, worried that the kiss had tainted their easy friendship, making every gesture seem loaded.
Lucy, his greatest champion, said, ‘You’ve worked so hard to build the company, and I know this is a real coup for you. And now you can work on your app!’
Her eyes were shining.
He nodded, touched as always by her heartfelt support of him.
‘Yes, it’s great. It really is.’ He took a sip of coffee. ‘But there’s one other thing—’
‘Oi oi, my lovers!’ came a shout from down the terrace.
Ollie was walking towards them. He looked fresh and tanned, dapper in his crew T-shirt, shorts and sandals, sunglasses perched on his shower-damp hair. He strode towards them and gave Lucy a big kiss on the cheek and shook her by the shoulders.
‘I’m getting married today, sis!’ he said. ‘Can you believe it? Ha ha!’
He pulled up a chair. ‘So, where did you two disappear to last night?’
Lucy and Jack exchanged glances and Jack saw a flicker of uncertainty cross Lucy’s face. Her eyes were on his as she opened her mouth to answer.
But before she could utter a word, Ollie said, in low tones, ‘Have you seen Dave? He looks like death warmed up.’ He grinned and shook his head. ‘I hope he pulls it together before Mum sees him. Greg is going to take him back to his room to try to sort him out. Maybe a cold shower will help.’
Ollie didn’t look like he held out too much hope.
As if summoned, Valerie appeared on the terrace, elegantly clad in linen trousers and a peach blouse with a Peter Pan collar. She sashayed up to them and squeezed her soon-to-be-wed son by the shoulders.
‘Gosh, mum,’ Lucy said, peering up at her mother through her fingers. ‘Are you dressed for the wedding already? It’s early.’
‘Good morning, Lucy. And no, darling,’ Valerie said, a weary note in her voice as she cast her eyes over Lucy’s tousled hair, crumpled sundress and flip-flops. ‘This is what I am wearing for breakfast. It’s hardly,’ she laughed, ‘hardly what I am wearing as mother of the groom for the day. Just as you won’t be wearing…that.’
Lucy folded her dress over her knees and made an ‘uh oh’ face out of her mother’s sight.
‘Good morning, Jack,’ Valerie said, all charm and warmth. ‘I hope you slept well.’
Jack thought of his night spent jack-knifed on the chaise but nodded, politely.
‘Absolutely, thank you. I hope you did too.’
‘I am well rested, thank you. As one would hope to be on such an important day.’
Jack saw Ollie and Lucy exchange a glance as they sensed trouble coming.
Valerie continued smoothly.
‘Which is more than can be said for other members of the wedding party.’
Ollie grimaced and put down the croissant he had been about to bite into.
‘Oliver, we need to talk about your friend David.’
Ollie looked like he might burst out in laughter about poor Dave, but fear of his mother’s reaction made him swallow it down.
He slipped his sunglasses over his eyes.
‘Um, sure, Mum. I think a few of them might have been up a bit late.’
‘Oliver, there’s clearly more to it than that. The boy doesn’t look like he knows his own name.’
Ollie couldn’t help it, he snorted aloud.
‘He’s sitting in there,’ Valerie gestured frantically back at the breakfast room, ‘looking like he’s had a lobotomy.’
Lucy giggled, and Ollie broke out into laughter. Jack hid a smile behind his coffee cup. Valerie pursed her lips together and put her hand on her hips, tennis bracelets winking in the sun.
‘I don’t know what you’re sitting here giggling about,’ she said to Lucy. ‘Your time would be better spent getting ready for this important day. You’ve got plenty to sort out.’
Her voice rose half an octave. ‘If we need to replace the best man at the eleventh hour, I could do with at least knowing that you’ll be ready on time.’
Lucy looked a little taken aback, and Jack reached for her hand under the table. She tensed for a split second when his fingers brushed hers, then relaxed and slipped her fingers through his. He squeezed her hand, and she smiled, her eyes meeting and holding his gaze. Her energy seemed to sag whenever her mother was near.
‘Mum,’ Ollie cut in, trying to reassure his mother. ‘You really don’t need to worry. Dave does this. He has one too many––’
Valerie scoffed and narrowed her eyes.
‘One too many,’ Ollie insisted, ‘and then he’s really rough for a few hours in the morning, then he suddenly snaps back and he’s fine. He’ll be fine, honestly, Mum.’
‘Well, I think we need to consider what we do in the event that it turns out that he doesn’t just snap back.’ She clicked her fingers, clearly annoyed that Ollie was not taking this as seriously as she felt he should be. ‘You might need someone else to step in.’
She turned to Lucy. ‘Darling.’ Valerie held her watch under Lucy’s nose. ‘Look at the time.’
Lucy scraped back her chair and glanced at Jack with an apologetic look. It was at least two hours until the wedding, but she would be safer out of the line of fire.
‘Yes, going to get ready now,’ she said, as she slid past Valerie and mouthed, good luck, at Ollie over her mother’s head.
‘What about Greg?’ Valerie was asking, as Lucy slipped away. ‘Could he….’
The voices seemed to fade away. Jack couldn’t take his eyes off Lucy’s bottom, the soft fabric of her summer dress clinging to it as she sashayed away, flip-flops slapping on the terrace as she went. He swallowed as he remembered the feel of her under his hands the night before, and he couldn’t shake the thought of how it had felt to hold her in his arms and kiss her.