Page 14 of Lie For Me

Jack broke her gaze and beckoned the waitress, giving the universal sign for can I have the bill by scrawling with his hand in mid-air. He looked back at Lucy and grinned.

‘You had me at open bar.’

Lucy felt her eyes stretch wide, and she clenched her fingers into her palms.

‘What?!’

Jack grinned.

‘Sure, it’s not great timing for me, and it’s a wedding,’ he pulled a face, ‘but maybe it’s a welcome distraction at the moment.’

Lucy opened her mouth to ask him what he needed distracting from when the waitress, the same one who served them every Saturday, sashayed up, bill and card machine in hand.

‘Hiya there! Was everything all right for yourselves today?’

Lucy saw Jack’s mouth twitch in annoyance at the turn of phrase.

She stepped in.

‘Yes, thank you. It was great,’ Lucy said smoothly, as the waitress nodded, not really expecting any other response based on the scraped-clean plates.

‘Lovely.’ The waitress grinned at them both. ‘Is it just the bill now for yourselves, then?’

Jack, a muscle in his jaw twitching whenever the waitress said yourselves, reached for his wallet.

‘No, no,’ Lucy said, digging into her bag for a credit card with some room on it. ‘My treat. After all,’ she waved her badly abused Visa card triumphantly in the air, ‘you are doing me a massive favour….’

5

As Jack pulled up outside her house, Lucy’s bottom greeted him, sticking out of the passenger door of her aged car. On the top of the car perched one silver sandal, three balled-up jumpers, an umbrella stuck in a partially open position, a blanket, a pair of wellies and half a jar of mayonnaise. Lucy emerged from the car, red-faced and swearing, holding a paper coffee cup and a brown apple core.

At least she ate fruit on occasion.

She dropped them into a black bin bag.

‘Just getting the car sorted,’ Lucy puffed.

Jack folded his arms.

‘Why are we going in your car? Mine is somewhat more roadworthy.’

Lucy eyed up Jack’s two-seater sports car.

‘Because we are going somewhere for several days, Jack, and that,’ she jabbed a finger at his car, ‘only has enough boot space for a clean pair of pants and a toothbrush.’

‘Wait—I was supposed to bring clean pants?’

‘Ha ha.’

Lucy dropped a very blackened banana peel stuck to a crisp packet into the bag. Jack eyed Lucy’s tracksuit bottoms and Fleetwood Mac T-shirt and glanced at his watch.

‘At least it’s not a health hazard,’ he mumbled. ‘Shouldn’t you be getting ready?’

‘Well.’ Lucy blew hair out of her eyes. ‘These are the shoes I am wearing to the wedding.’

She pointed at the silver sandal on top of the car.

‘Right. So… you’ll be hopping all weekend?’

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