26. Chapter 26
Jack stood at the bar and watched her. Lucy stood in the marquee entrance, hair still piled on top of her head, holding her shoes—of course—and a bottle of champagne. The bottom of her dress seemed wet, for reasons he couldn’t begin to imagine.
She looked small and unsure, looking around the vast space, eyes searching among the weaving and gyrating bodies, hips thrusting and arms waving, dancing and bobbing to Rick Astley.
Her eyes landed on him, met his gaze. She paused and didn’t seem to know what to do, then she slightly raised the hand with the champagne bottle, in a sort of half greeting and mouthed hello. Her eye makeup was smudged, and there was more lipstick on the champagne bottle than left on her mouth.
Jack swallowed and mentally shook himself.
He gave a half smile and mouthed, hi back. With excellent timing, the DJ introduced the Time Warp. Lucy started to make her way across the room, dodging people doing the pelvic thrust and jumping to the left. Then she was standing in front of him, pale, damp, shoeless.
‘Hello,’ she said softly.
‘Hi’, Jack said. ‘You’re wet.’
‘Yes.’
‘Why are you wet?’
‘I’m sorry,’ Lucy said.
Her eyes were moist and her open, mournful expression tugged at something inside him.
‘Hey, it’s okay that you’re wet.’ Jack hooked a finger under her chin and tilted her face up. ‘I was only asking what happened.’
Lucy pulled her head away.
‘No, I’m not sorry for being wet,’ she had hiccups now. ‘I’m saying sorry for being so horr- hic - ible before. Hic.’
Jack gently prised the champagne bottle from her fingers and put the shoes on the floor. He took hold of her hands. Her fingers tightened around his.
‘Luce,’ he brushed her hair out of her face. ‘It’s okay. I understand. You asked me to come here to support you and I disappeared on you.’ He added, half under his breath, ‘Only for a little while though, so some might say that…’
Lucy squeezed his fingers and hiccupped. He pulled her into him and slid his arms around her.
‘I do get it. And I’m sorry too.’
He felt Lucy relax against him and slip her arms around his waist, her head nestled into his shoulder.
‘We’ve never had a fight before,’ Lucy said, into his shoulder. ‘I don’t like it.’
‘Me neither,’ he murmured, his lips pressed into her head.
Across the room, he caught James’ eye over Lucy’s head, and James nodded and smiled.
‘I’m wet because I paddled in the fountain,’ Lucy suddenly said.
Jack shook his head and laughed.
‘You paddled in the fountain? What on earth, Luce?’
She shrugged.
‘It’s hot. And Heather and I made up.’
‘Wow. You’ve been busy since I saw you. Well, I’m just glad you’re back and you’re okay.’
‘I can’t tell.’ Lucy pulled back and lifted her head to look at him. ‘Are you Real Jack or Fake Jack right now?’
Jack looked down into her pale face framed with escaped wisps of honey-caramel hair, big kohl-rimmed grey-green eyes gazing up at him. Her fingers were on his neck, in his hair and he felt his arms instinctively tighten around her. He could feel her breath on his face when she spoke, smell the champagne. It would be so easy to drop his head and kiss her, pull her to him. But her question brought him back to reality, to the lie of it all.
He smoothed a finger below her eye and wiped away a smudge, then cleared his throat and said, ‘Oh, Fake Jack, of course, the world’s best fake boyfriend.’
He dropped his arms, stepped back into the bar, and steadied himself, reaching for his drink.
‘Oh, of course, of course,’ Lucy said, as she stepped back too.
She grabbed the bottle of champagne from the bar and raised it to him in an elaborate toast.
‘Just checking.’
‘You know, your dad thinks we’re a great couple,’ Jack said, as they stood at the bar and surveyed the wedding party.
For a moment it felt normal again—Lucy and Jack and idle chat.
‘Really?’ She raised an eyebrow. ‘You’ve been talking to my dad?’
‘Had to talk to someone when you abandoned me,’ he said.
‘Yes, all right.’ Lucy rolled her eyes. ‘Point made, don’t bang on about it. You’re such a drama queen.’
He could see her grinning out of the corner of his eye.
‘Everything is always about you. So, what did Dad say?’
‘Oh, I can hardly remember,’ Jack said airily. ‘Something about how you’ve done really well for yourself. You’re a lucky woman,’ Lucy was laughing now, ‘me being a total catch, and I think,’ he rubbed his head as if trying to remember, ‘I think he said something about punching above your weight?’
‘Oi!’
Lucy swung the champagne bottle at him.
Jack felt a grin spread across his face, seeing her laughing once more, feeling the joy and satisfaction of being the one to make her laugh. He caught her by the wrist before she could lamp him with the bottle and felt a spark of electricity as they touched. He eased the bottle onto the bar and took her hand in his.
‘Okay, I’m going to get changed.’
‘What?’ Lucy said.
She started to pull her hand free, but Jack held onto her.
‘Look.’
Jack gestured at the dance floor, where Dave, Greg and others were roving around in shorts and T-shirts.
‘Loads of people have gone and changed into something more comfortable. It’s roasting in here, and I am cooking in this suit.’
He put down his drink and took Lucy by the shoulders.
‘Let the record show, I am not abandoning you. I am getting changed for the sake of my health and,’ he sniffed, ‘everyone’s nostrils.’
Lucy giggled and shoved him off in the direction of the hotel.
‘Okay, you’re right. Get changed, for all our sakes!’
As he made his way across the marquee, he turned and looked back at her. She was swaying in time to the music, the bottle green dress skimming over her curves, tendrils of hair curled around her throat.
He felt his breath catch in his throat.