Page 42 of Lie For Me

‘Argh! Lucy, help me!’

His arms were flailing in the water. Lucy, watching Jack splash frantically in the water, froze in place as he moved away from her through the water. Then, arms shaking, clutching her oars, she tried to paddle over to him, oars slapping the water ineffectually.

‘I’m coming, Jack! Hold on!’ she panted as she edged closer.

Jack, who in his frantic spinning and splashing had ended up in the water with his back to her, suddenly let out a howl of laughter.

‘I can’t do it,’ he gasped. ‘I can’t keep a straight face!’

Lucy stopped paddling and let the kayak drift up to him.

‘You’re so gullible, Luce,’ Jack panted, laughing as he bobbed in the water.

‘You fucker,’ Lucy hissed as she pulled alongside.

‘Did you really think that was a shark in here?’ Jack howled. ‘That was pulling me down?’

‘I should sink you myself,’ Lucy hissed, flicking water at him. ‘Pardon me for thinking you were in some sort of trouble. And I didn’t think it was a shark,’ she lied, ‘I thought…I thought maybe it was a giant eel trying to take you down.’ She shuddered at the thought of what might be in the water. ‘You should be glad I bothered to come to your rescue at all. I won’t bother the next time. You’ll be sorry then. You’ll be the boy who cried shark.’

Jack clung to the end of Lucy’s kayak, still laughing, wet hair slicked to his head. She prodded him with the end of her oar. He looked utterly charming and rudely healthy as he laughed up at her. Like a poster boy for a magazine about the benefits of outdoor lifestyles.

‘Get off.’ She jabbed at him with her oar. ‘I don’t want you near me, taking the piss out of me like that.’

‘Hey,’ Jack said, letting go of the kayak and drifting gently back into the water. ‘Tristan said we’re not supposed to use the oars as weapons.’

Lucy, trying to steer the kayak to a safe distance away from Jack’s antics, huffed over her shoulder.

‘I’m pretty sure he’d fully support me on this occasion.’

Lucy sulked quietly to herself and plotted how she might get back at Jack. Jack, still letting out the occasional snicker and shaking his head in her direction, bobbed happily on the lake, his faced turned to the sun, his hair curling into waves in the heat.

‘Where are the happy couple? It’s not just us still out here, is it?’ Jack asked.

He levered himself out of the water and back into his kayak, squinting across the lake in the vague direction they had last seen Ollie and Sophie paddling.

‘I think they're out here somewhere. Topping up their tans for their big day.' Lucy trailed her fingertips in the water. 'Why do you dislike weddings so much, anyway?’

She turned her kayak to come alongside Jack’s, so she was facing him.

‘Does the old misery guts in you hate to see other people happy? Or do you get jealous because it’s not your special day with all the attention on you?’

He shrugged, a stiff movement inside the life vest.

‘They’re just not my cup of tea.’

‘Jack,’ she said, persisting. ‘You don’t just find weddings boring, or old-fashioned or overly sentimental—you really dislike them and you’ve never said why. Last year you told Lewis that you were away on holiday on his wedding date and I know for a fact you went to a cricket match instead. And you’re not even that bothered about cricket. I was rather surprised you said yes to coming to this with me.’

His eyes flicked up to meet hers, but she couldn’t gauge what he was thinking.

‘So what’s the real reason?’

Lucy gasped and her hand flew to her mouth. ‘Oh my god, were you jilted at the altar? That’s it, isn’t it? And now every wedding reminds you of how Bertha left you standing there that day…’

She started giggling.

‘That’s right, laugh at your own jokes,’ Jack said, splashing her. But there was a tone of real irritation in his voice. ‘Sorry to disappoint, but it’s nothing so dramatic.’ His mouth pressed into a hard line, and he paddled away from Lucy. ‘Just leave it, it’s no big deal.’

‘No need to get tetchy. I was only asking. I don’t see why you can’t tell me—’

---