Page 109 of Lie For Me

‘Isn’t that the same colour?’ Cassie asked, batting Lucy’s hands away. ‘Get off, I’m still looking.’

‘Ohh,’ Cassie said, suddenly falling still.

Her eyes flicked up to meet Lucy’s.

‘Oh God,’ Lucy hid behind her hands. ‘Is it awful? Does that fascinator look ridiculous? Do they all have Jack in looking like he’s my community support officer or something? What is it?’

‘Oh, Lucy,’ Cassie said softly, passing her the computer.

Lucy turned the screen and looked.

A picture of her and Jack taken at the couple’s photoshoot her mother had arranged filled the screen. It wasn’t one of the staged ones—the artful gazing down, the gazing into the distance, the hand holding. It was a candid shot taken near the start, just after Lucy had awkwardly perched on Jack’s knee when they were still struggling to keep a straight face. She hadn’t even realised Jess had captured any of that. Lucy’s head was tipped back, laughing. Jack was holding her upright to stop her slipping off his knee and falling backwards onto the bench, while Lucy’s hand reached across his chest and clutched his lapel. Jack was grinning and looking at her with adoration.

Lucy swallowed. Her eyes filled with tears as she looked at it. It was a beautiful photograph. They looked like a couple full of joy and love.

She raised her hand suddenly to shut the laptop, but Cassie reached up and stopped her.

‘Click the button to the next one,’ she said.

Lucy hesitated, her hand still poised to shut the laptop, but then she clicked next. This one was in black and white and was taken just before they kissed. Lucy was looking down—she remembered feeling silly and nervous. Jack’s hand was on her cheek, his thumb brushing her skin below her eye, his eyes on her mouth, his lips parted as he leaned in. It was a very sexy photograph.

Lucy felt like she couldn’t breathe. She felt pressure rising up in her chest, and her throat tightened.

In a small, strangled voice, she said, ‘The photographer made us do that one.’

Cassie found a squashed box of tissues under some folders on the desk and passed them to Lucy.

‘No one made him look at you like that,’ she said.

Lucy remembered then the tenderness and passion of that kiss. In the middle of the day. No alcohol, no nighttime giddiness, no arguing about who had spoken to who. Nothing to confuse or explain away why it happened. A peck on the lips would have been enough for the photo. Or they could have flat-out refused to do it—the photographer wouldn’t have cared. She plucked a tissue from the box Cassie was proffering and wiped at her eyes.

‘Oh Cassie, I’m such a mess. I’ve made such a mess of it all!’

The pressure rising in her chest bubbled over, and Lucy was blubbering into a handful of tissues.

‘I made it all so complicated, asking him to pretend to be my boyfriend.’ She sniffed loudly. ‘What was I thinking? And then I wouldn’t listen when he tried to talk to me about New York, to explain, at breakfast the morning after we…’ She felt her face flame. ‘The morning after the wedding. I was so upset and angry, and I….’ She let out a shaky sigh. ‘I just don’t know how to talk to him anymore. Which might not matter, because I don’t even know if he wants to speak to me.’

Cassie stared at her, her gaze direct.

‘Lucy, I don’t know if it’ll work out. Sometimes things are complicated. But if it doesn’t, I’d bet a weekend of childcare it won’t be because you don’t have any feelings for each other.’

‘Wow,’ Lucy sniffed. ‘A weekend of childcare. That’s a serious wager.’

‘Lucy,’ Cassie leaned over the detritus on the desk and took Lucy’s hands. ‘You can sit here and wallow in self-pity and wonder about how Jack feels about you and if he’s leaving or staying—but you’ll never know what could happen between you if you don’t ask.’

‘I know in my gut that—’ Lucy interrupted.

‘Oh, fuck off!’ Cassie waved her away. ‘You don’t know. If you really knew, we wouldn’t be having this conversation. You’d be finding a way to move on, not telling me you no longer like Christmas. Christmas, Lucy!’

Lucy looked at her, mouth down-turned, eyes wary. She tore at the edges of her tissue.

‘What do you think Dot would say if she was here?’

‘About your relationship woes? I think she’d tell you to get a grip and stop hiding behind that desk like a child. And then she’d have a lot to say about the state of this office,’ Cassie said, looking at the piles of files, books, and coffee mug rings covering the desk.

Lucy tipped her chin up, hiccuped, and slid a pile of papers into a drawer.

‘Strong woman, Dot,’ she said. ‘Even if she has had to leave her precious volunteers list with me because it was cruise or divorce.’

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