27. Chapter 27
Her father appeared at her elbow.
‘Lucy, Nanna has left her glasses here. She said she thinks she had them when she was talking to you earlier. Where were you sitting?’
Her father looked slightly harangued, and Lucy guessed Nanna was giving him a hard time.
‘Let me go and look,’ she said. ‘You get a drink.’
He squeezed her arm in thanks.
‘And hide for a few minutes.’
He nodded and gave a half smile.
Lucy weaved her way across the dance floor, to the table where she and Nanna had been seated for dinner. A couple of guys were sitting there now, deep in conversation. Edging around the table, she peered between bottles and lifted napkins. She was about to pull back the tablecloth and peek underneath when one guy spoke.
‘Hey, are you okay?’
His dirty blonde hair was swept back from his face, and Lucy could see how blue his eyes were from across the table. His white shirt was rolled up above his elbows, and his brown forearms rested on the table as he leaned across to study what she was up to.
‘Uh, yes, thanks.’ She smiled. ‘I’m checking to see if my nanna left her glasses here earlier,’ she scoured the table again, ‘or maybe dropped them somewhere here.’
‘Your nanna?’ he said, his face lighting up. ‘Are you Ollie’s sister?’
‘Depends,’ she pulled a face, ‘on what you’ve heard.’
‘You must be Lucy. I met Heather last night.’ He stood up, came around the table and stuck out his hand. ‘I’m Chris.’
He was tall. She had to tilt her head back to look at him. He kept hold of her hand and leaned close to her, and she caught a hint of woody aftershave.
‘And I met your nanna.’
He pulled back and looked at her, one eyebrow raised.
‘Aaaah,’ Lucy said, ‘you met Nanna and survived?’
‘I did,’ he nodded. ‘A forthright woman. She told me I had a pleasant smile but needed a haircut if I expected to be taken seriously.’
He ran his hand through his hair, and Lucy thought it would be a tragedy if he chose, for reasons of insanity, to listen to her nanna and cut off that golden mane.
Lucy burst out laughing.
‘Yes, that’s Nanna.’ Out of consideration for women everywhere, she added, ‘And I think your hair is great. You shouldn’t cut it.’
‘Hmm,’ Chris said, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. ‘Two very different pieces of advice. Who to listen to…I’ll have to think about this.’
Lucy had forgotten all about Nanna’s glasses.
‘Can I get you a drink?’ Chris asked and pulled out a chair.
Lucy hesitated for just a moment before sinking into the seat.
‘Sure, GT, please.’
Chris grabbed a passing waiter, gave the order and then pulled his chair in. Somewhere along the way, the guy Chris had been talking to had drifted off.
‘So, Lucy, Ollie’s Sister.’ He was grinning at her. ‘How are you enjoying the wedding so far? Any standout moments? Besides meeting me, of course.’
He grinned and was charming enough to get away with a comment like that. Truth be told, it was one of the more entertaining moments of the day. Better than being lectured by Nanna, or sweltering in the heat for yet another round of photos—or fighting with Jack.
She played along.
‘Oh,’ she nodded. ‘Of course. I shall forever think of this wedding as the day I was blessed to meet Chris.’
He nodded, his expression earnest.
‘That’s wise. Divide your life into Before Chris,’ he placed his hands on one side of the table, ‘and After Chris.’ He placed his hands on the other side.
Lucy’s drink came, and she twirled the straw.
‘So, how do you know Ollie? Another uni mate, I presume?’
Chris nodded. ‘Another uni mate, yes, but we weren’t in the same year or on the same course.’ He glanced over at Ollie, Sophie, Dave and the gang. ‘I was Ollie’s captain on the rugby team. I only knew him at uni for a year before I graduated, but then we both started playing for a local rugby team just for the fun and exercise, and we became quite close.’
Ollie, restored by cake and water, was now leading the dancing, jumping enthusiastically to Hey Ya! by Outkast.
‘And he was my best man at my wedding.’
Lucy’s head snapped around.
‘He was?’ She felt a jolt of disappointment. Her eyes flicked down, but there was no wedding band. ‘Is your wife here?’
She glanced about.
‘No.’ Chris smiled. ‘We didn’t make it to our first anniversary. We married young, we were just out of uni.’ He shrugged. ‘Should have known better, but I suppose that’s the point of being young—you don’t know better.’ He smiled and sipped his drink. ‘We got caught up in the excitement of the wedding part—forgot there was a marriage on the other side of the big day. If we hadn’t had that in common, the wedding planning, I am not even sure we’d have been together by the wedding date. About six months later, we agreed it was a mistake, and it all ended very politely, but,’ he grinned as Ollie tried to dip Sophie on the dance floor, ‘still felt like we’d failed.’
‘I can understand that,’ Lucy said, and followed his gaze to her brother dancing. ‘Or maybe Ollie, as your best man, was a bad luck charm.’
Chris burst out laughing and looked at her appreciatively.
‘Yes, maybe that was it. Sorry, I am sure there’s some etiquette about not talking about marriages ending while at a wedding.’
‘Oh, don’t worry,’ Lucy said. ‘Nanna beat you to it hours ago. And her marriage-ending stories were much darker than yours.’
‘You know, Ollie never said how pretty you are,’ Chris said.
Lucy, who had never learnt to take a compliment, laughed and blushed and looked everywhere but at Chris.
‘Oh, ha, well…that’s um, well, he wouldn’t, would he? He’s my brother.’
‘Well, you are,’ Chris said. ‘Very pretty. And that’s a beautiful dress.’
Lucy swallowed and simply said, ‘Thank you.’
‘So, Lucy Ollie’s Sister, what do you do when you’re not enchanting people at weddings?’
Wow, Lucy thought. Life really could turn on a sixpence. She had forgotten all about strained relationships with her family, fights with Heather and fake boyfriends. She was happy to bask in the attention of one of the most attractive men she’d ever seen in real life. She wondered what was wrong with him.
‘Well,’ she hesitated, years of having her job mocked by her family as not a proper job, making her pause before trying to explain what she did. Chris waited patiently, eyes on her. She took a breath.
‘I’m the events and volunteers manager for a stately home, a place called Dulcetcoombe in Yorkshire. I run the—’
But before she could try to explain what that meant, Chris interrupted her.
‘Dulcetcoombe?’ He was staring at the table, clearly trying to bring something to mind. ‘Dulcetcoombe…why does that ring a bell?’
Lucy really wasn’t sure how it could ring a bell with many people outside of Yorkshire. Dulcetcoombe wasn’t Blenheim or Chatsworth. It didn’t have a national reputation and had only been open to the public for about six years. But Chris was still muttering to himself, and Lucy sat quietly, assuming he’d soon realise he had confused Dulcetcoombe with something else.
Then suddenly, Chris slapped his hand down on the table.
‘That’s it!’ he said. ‘We looked at Dulcetcoombe as a possible location for something I worked on a few years ago. We didn’t use it in the end. We needed somewhere a little bigger, but we were there.’ He was grinning. ‘I seem to remember there was some sort of Hallowe’en Light Trail on or something? We did the trail before we left. It was great! Really atmospheric and beautiful. It seemed very popular. There were queues to get in as we were leaving. Were you involved with that?’
Lucy stared at him. He knew about Dulcetcoombe and the Light Trail! She had started that a few years ago, in her second year in post.
‘Yes, yes I was,’ she said on an out breath. ‘It was my idea! I think that must have been the second year that you saw. We started doing timed entries after that, because it got so popular, to make sure people didn’t have to wait long.’
‘Really? Wow, that’s impressive! So you do all the events there, then? It’s a beautiful estate. It must be an inspiring place to work.’
Lucy thought of how different this conversation was from when she tried to tell her family about work. They didn’t think Dulcetcoombe was inspiring—they thought it was an out-of-the-way money pit, long past its best, and that it should be sold and turned into a hotel or spa or country club. No more community events, school trips, community gardening clubs, vintage fairs, or grounds open to all the local walkers and dog walkers. Just private property and private grounds, prohibited to all except paying guests.
Lucy welled up at the joy of talking to someone––outside of Dulcetcoombe itself and the tight-knit community of people who worked in historic estates across the country––who appreciated a place like that. People who loved it for its grand, if worn, beauty, its rich history, the deep sense of place, and for what it still offered to its community today.
‘Yes,’ she swallowed, smiling. ‘Yes, every day when I drive down the approach and go past the last pair of oak trees and round the corner and there,’ she touched her hand to her chest, ‘there is the house. And it looks different every day.’ She could feel all her enthusiasm and love for the place bubbling up. ‘The light sometimes makes it look creamy and castle-like, like a huge cake, and other times, especially in the winter, it looks scary and gothic, and perfect for Hallowe’en!’
She hesitated, looking for signs that she was boring him, watching for the moment his eyes wandered across the room for a more interesting companion. But his gaze never wavered.
‘You must love working there,’ he said, leaning in, ‘with all that history. And the events, do you manage them all? Do you get to decide what events you do? That must be fun!’
Lucy started to think she must have been very good in a previous life. Or maybe this was divine payment for making it to the wedding and braving time with her sister. Or perhaps her attempts at manifesting a fantastic love life were all about to bear fruit, right now, in the form of the marvellous Chris, whom she hadn’t known existed ten minutes ago.
‘It is fun.’ She nodded. ‘I work with really wonderful, dedicated people, who are committed to preserving this historic site.’ She pulled a face. ‘And some very determined and opinionated volunteers.’ She laughed. ‘Sometimes I’m not sure who’s in charge—them or me.’
Chris laughed, a rich, rolling sound. Lucy thought she should pinch herself in case this was all a dream, and dug her nails hard into her thigh. Nope, not a dream. Ow.
‘Why did you say you were at Dulcetcoombe? For an event?’
‘I work in film locations,’ Chris said. ‘I was scouting in the area for a suitable filming location and Dulcetcoombe was one of the places we were considering for the shoot. In the end, it wasn’t quite big enough, and the director preferred another location. A shame.’ His eyes locked onto hers. ‘Maybe we’d have met sooner.’
Lucy blushed. ‘Wow, you work in film! That’s so glamorous! You must get to see amazing places and meet really interesting people.’
Chris pulled a face. ‘It is interesting and I love it, and the people I work with are great––though it’s more about muddy boots and 5am starts and twelve-hour days than glamour. I don’t get to do the red-carpet bits.’ He grinned. ‘But much as I love it, my parents are still waiting for me to get a proper job.’ He rolled his eyes. ‘I’m not sure exactly what that is, but I think it involves a suit, an office and a 9-5, and that’s not me.’ He took a sip of his drink. ‘I think the freelance and uncertain nature of working in film freaks them out.’
Lucy’s breath stuck in her throat. She spluttered and reached for her drink.
‘Hey, are you okay?’
Chris reached out and took her hand.
She nodded, eyes watering as she swallowed down a cough.
‘Sure, yes,’ she said, wiping her eyes. ‘Sorry, got something in my throat.’
Chris was still holding her hand. His thumb swept gently across her palm.
The DJ had segued into For Once in My Life by Stevie Wonder. Couples swayed together on the dance floor.
‘Shall we?’ Chris said, blue eyes full of invitation and promise.
‘Yes, please,’ Lucy said.