Page 48 of Lie For Me

Lucy let the second comment slide and simply replied, ‘Yes.’ She smiled. ‘He’s my boyfriend.’

It felt both odd and natural to refer to Jack as her boyfriend—the lie slipped from her mouth with ease. She was no longer stumbling over the words as she tried to explain their relationship. However, providing Heather with more details than absolutely necessary was to be avoided, so she swiftly changed the subject.

‘Mum said you’re doing a reading tomorrow,’ Lucy said.

‘Ah yes.’ Heather sighed and rubbed her temples. ‘Ollie and Sophie asked me,’ she said on an out breath, as if weary of the burden. ‘I could hardly say no.’

She watched Lucy’s face and took a sip of her wine.

‘I am sure they would have asked you too, if there was time in the ceremony.’

Lucy smiled.

‘Happy not to do it. I’m not keen on standing up in front of people.’

‘Yes, well, it’s another one of those skills I’ve had to master,’ Heather said, with the tone of one who found life to be one constant trial after another. She continued, ‘So, I am doing the reading,’ she started counting on her fingers, ‘Peter and Thomas are ring bearers, and I made the huge photo display that’s going up in the reception. It’s a carefully curated selection of photographs charting Ollie and Sophie’s relationship,’ she added when Lucy looked blank.

Lucy nodded. ‘Sounds lovely.’

‘It is,’ Heather said, all self-assurance. ‘I think it adds a really romantic touch to the day.’

Lucy thought that, as it was a wedding, it should be fairly romantic anyway, or something had gone badly wrong somewhere, but she kept her counsel.

‘How’s that job of yours going?’

Heather made air quotes with her fingers when she said job.

‘Why do you say it like that?’ Lucy said irritably.

Heather laughed and reached for a bottle to refill her wine glass.

‘Well, come on, I just mean,’ she shrugged, ‘what is it you do? Potter around and help to look after some old house? Hardly a real job though, is it, Little Blister, swanning about the gardens, chatting to old boys about compost and helping old dears manage the till in the gift shop.’

Lucy swallowed and said tightly. ‘As I am sure you know, there’s a lot more to it than that. I run all of the annual events—’

‘Oh yes,’ Heather laughed. ‘Kiddies Easter egg hunts and cute Christmas parties.’

Lucy gritted her teeth. Never mind that she had overseen a hundred and fifteen per cent increase in earned income from events and visitors in her nearly six years at Dulcetcoombe. Never mind that their traditional Christmas Fayre had made the ‘must see’ list of events in the region for the past two years, and no matter that annual visitor numbers had more than tripled since she started. No—to her family, and especially to Heather, she was playing at working and her role was simply to help older volunteers master the complexities of the digital tills. She wouldn’t be taken seriously until she was clad head to toe in a grey designer suit and stuck in an office until 8pm every day. And the more she protested and tried to explain the impact of her work, the more Heather mocked. She clenched her jaw and persisted.

‘And I support many volunteers, some of whom are a little older,’ Lucy conceded, ‘and without whom Dulcetcoombe couldn’t function. We were shortlisted for Yorkshire Tourist Attraction of the Year for the first time last year, nominated by our visitors and members.’

Lucy felt the pride swell up in her chest as she said the last bit, knowing that they had found a place in people’s hearts and lives, that they mattered to their immediate community and knowing that their visitors fell in love enough to remember to vote for them even after their visit to Dulcetcoombe was nothing more than a fading memory and a clutch of photos on a smartphone.

Heather raised her eyebrows and made an ‘oooh’ shape with her mouth. Lucy hated that it took just three minutes in her sister’s company, and they reverted to being teenagers again.

‘Not quite the same as intellectual property law, though, is it?’ she said.

Lucy sighed internally and glanced across at Ollie and Sophie. She would put up with this for their sake, she told herself.

Heather rubbed her temples again.

‘Work is sooo stressful.’

Lucy hadn’t asked, but Heather wanted to tell.

‘They’ve made me partner.’

She paused for a beat for Lucy to jump in and shower praise.

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