Page 100 of Lie For Me

‘I wish you had told me about New York, Jack.’ Her voice was soft and quiet. ‘I would have done nothing but support you, you know that. I would have arranged your farewell party and driven you to the airport and…and waved you off.’

Her voice cracked.

Jack didn’t look at her as he shoved a toiletry bag in and zipped up the holdall.

‘I know you would have.’ His voice was quiet. ‘Nothing is final yet,’ he said, picking up the bag. ‘I have to return the contract tomorrow.’

‘Well,’ Lucy said, her tone tart, ‘best you hop along to get your train then.’

‘Luce,’ he stepped towards the door and was so close, she leaned back into the wall. ‘I know you’re not in a mood to listen to me, but I want you to know that last night was,’ he hesitated and stared at the floor for a moment, ‘it was probably…’ his eyes flicked up to hers for a split second. In a hoarse voice, he managed, ‘It was amazing.’

He swallowed and raked a hand through his hair.

Lucy was holding her breath. ‘But I’m in the middle of something, and I have to see it through. I’m not good at…’ he gestured back and forth between them, ‘this.’

‘No problem, Jack.’

She pulled herself up to her full height and smoothed down her hair. She would reclaim some dignity if it killed her.

‘I’m not good at this either.’

Her voice was quavering, but she forced the words out.

‘Probably best we leave it here.’

Jack looked haunted and swayed towards her. For a moment, she thought he was going to kiss her, but then she heard the snick of the door latch. Light flooded in from the brightly lit corridor. He slipped through the door and was gone.

The door clicked shut with a finality that sounded like the ending of a friendship. She wanted to run after him, stop him from leaving, but she didn’t know what she would say, and her legs felt like jelly.

She glanced around the room. It was emptier now. The messed-up bed was a rude testament to their night together, despite how much had changed since then. Jack’s clothes from the night before that he had stripped off and dropped where he stood were gone. The T-shirts flung over the back of the chaise longue gone too. His watch, phone charger—gone from the bedside table. The faint spicy smell of his aftershave lingered as the only trace of him.

Tears welled up and spilled over in silence, sliding down Lucy’s face, falling onto her T-shirt. She slid down the wall and huddled in the corner, hugging her knees to her chest, her breath coming in gulps.

Her phone beeped, and she shifted to pull it out of her pocket, rubbing tears away to squint at the screen. It was Ollie. She sagged back against the wall. Lucy had hoped it would be a message from Jack, saying it was all a mistake and he had sent the cab away so they could talk.

She squinted through teary eyes at the screen.

‘Sis! Where are you? Lunch in an hour—final celebrations before we go on honeymoon!’

Lucy tossed the phone onto the bed and rubbed her eyes. Her T-shirt was damp, her hair was a tangled mess, and she needed to check out of her room. She couldn’t show up at lunch like this.

She dragged herself up and shuffled into the bathroom.

The pounding water from the shower restored her slightly, and she pinned up her damp hair and slipped on a loose sundress. Sniffing and swiping at her eyes, she dragged herself around the room, gathering up her belongings. The bottle green dress was pooled on the floor, where she had kicked it off just hours ago. She bent to retrieve it, balled it up, and threw it into her bag. As she turned, she saw something sticking out from under the bed; she pulled it out. It was Jack’s tie, still in a loose knot from the night before. She sat down heavily on the bed, running the tie through her fingers. She knew this was one of only two ties Jack owned, bought for the rare situations he found himself in when wearing a tie was unavoidable. She smiled as she remembered the last time she had seen him in this tie, when she had accompanied him to a national business dinner where he was being given an award. He had grumbled all the way there and fiddled with his collar all through dinner. The tie came off straight after his acceptance speech. Her lip trembled, and tears welled up. Her phone buzzed. Ollie again. She buried the tie deep amongst her hurriedly packed clothes, piled her bags high onto her wheeled suitcase and spilled out of the room and into the corridor. She had to put her cases in the car and tidy up her blotchy face before her mother saw her.

Lunch outside on the terrace was a smaller group now. Some of the guests had already left, while a few others nursed hangovers and lurked in the shadows with glasses of water and paracetamol. They waved weakly at the lunch party and went back to filling in memory blanks from the night before. Ollie looked bright and cheerful, not a trace of a hangover. The result, Lucy assumed, of Sophie solicitously feeding him cake and pints of water the night before. Beside him, Sophie glowed in a red polka dot sun dress. Georgia and Dave were exchanging knowing glances and were clearly holding hands under the table. James fussed over Valerie at the head of the table, pouring her water.

‘Lucy!’ Ollie jumped up when he saw her. ‘Come and sit near us.’

He beckoned her over and indicated a seat opposite him and Sophie. Valerie gave a gracious, queen-like wave as Lucy stepped up to the table, and her father blew her a kiss.

‘Babes, we need two seats. Where will Jack sit?’ Sophie asked, looking at the chair on its own, wedged between Georgia on one side and Greg on the other.

‘Oh, it’s okay,’ Lucy said, forcing cheerfulness. ‘He had to leave early.’ She concentrated on keeping her voice level. ‘He’s got some work things to sort out.’

She hoped that would be the end of it, but Ollie leaned in and said, ‘Oh yeah, Dad said he got a great offer for his company.’ Fantastic—Ollie knew too. ‘Said he might have to move to New York for a year!’

‘That’s amazing! Will you go to New York with him?’ Sophie asked, helping herself to more salmon.

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