Page 82 of Lie For Me

Heather covered Lucy’s hand with her own.

‘I know you hate me telling you what to do, and you think I’m bossy and interfering—’

‘Noooo,’ Lucy said. ‘I don’t think you are…not really.’

‘And that was a pitiful protest, thank you for that. But really, Lucy.’ Heather’s voice was earnest now. ‘If you only listen to me once in your life, let it be now. You’ve got a good thing going with Jack. He’s a really nice man, and he dotes on you.’ Her eyes sparkled, and she grinned. ‘And he’s rather easy on the eye, too. Do what you need to do to fix this fight you’ve had.’

‘Muummmeeeee!’ came a wail from the terrace.

Heather sighed.

‘Got to go’, she said, stuffing her cigarettes and lighter back into her bag and fishing out a can of body spray. ‘To hide the cigarette smell,’ she said, pulling a face.

She squeezed Lucy’s shoulder and started to walk up the garden.

‘Ouch! For fuck’s sake Lucy, your bloody shoes!’ she said in a furious stage whisper.

Lucy cringed inwardly as Heather rubbed her ankle and in her best calm mother voice, called, ‘Coming, darling!’

And she was off, back towards the blazing lights, the pop music, the crowd of loved ones mingling with strangers, the children, spritzing herself with body spray as she went.

Lucy rubbed her chilled toes and thought about what Heather had said. She wondered if she could tell the truth from the lie any more, or if it was all the champagne. It didn’t matter, anyway. Jack was clearly doing a great job as a fake boyfriend. Everyone was sold.

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.

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