Page 77 of Lie For Me

Sophie laughed and tried, not very hard, to wriggle free.

‘You’re drunk! Come on, you need to eat something.’

‘I am drunk!’ Ollie roared and threw his arms in the air. ‘Drunk and happy and married to you!’

He tried to plant a wet kiss on Sophie’s mouth, but missed.

Lucy tried not to laugh.

‘Ugh, Ollie,’ Sophie wiped her face. ‘Come on.’ Sophie put his arm across her shoulders. ‘Let’s find you some cake.’

‘Yes, wedding cake. Because we’re married!’ Ollie yelled as they stumbled away.

All around her, people laughed, danced and drank. Happy clusters of people on the dance floor were now dancing to (I’ve Had) The Time of my Life. Greg and Hannah attempted to do the Dirty Dancing lift but collapsed into a table to hoots of laughter before friends pulled them upright.

From beside her came a slurred voice and a waft of beery bad breath.

‘Smile, love, it might never happen’, said a fifty-something man who had sweated through almost all his shirt. He leered and swayed at Lucy, his half-full glass of beer sploshing over his hand, and she recoiled.

Lucy snapped, ‘It already has.’

Then she pushed her way through the doors.

She looked about, but there was no sign of Jack and his new dark-haired friend. She wandered toward the hotel and climbed the steps to the terrace. She hated that she wanted to know, but her legs kept driving her forwards. It was nearly completely dark now, and the worst of the heat had eased, a soft, warm breeze moving through the trees. A young couple made their way down the steps, arms around each other, in lockstep. They smiled shyly at Lucy as they passed. Lucy drew level with the hotel and drifted along the terrace, glad to have a break from the noise and chaos of the party. She heard soft voices and passed a couple trying to rock a toddler to sleep, then a familiar laugh came from just around the corner. Lucy stopped and listened. The indistinct murmur of Jack’s voice and then another voice, a woman’s. Her throat tightened.

She stood stock still on the terrace and strained her ears. Too far away to hear anything, she shuffled along the wall, squeezing past the heavy iron garden furniture and peered around the corner. Parting the leaves on the wisteria, she saw Jack and the woman sitting at a small table near where they had had breakfast only hours before. The woman was speaking and had her back to Lucy, while Jack gave her his rapt attention, his eyes glued to her face. Lucy’s breath caught in her throat. As she watched, the woman reached out and took Jack’s hand and he covered it with his. Then Jack took out his phone and started typing something in. Lucy caught a couple of digits as the woman said them aloud to Jack. Their voices dropped to a murmur then Lucy could make out Jack saying, ‘I’m so glad we met tonight.’

Jack stood, and Lucy heard him say, ‘We’d better get back,’ as he offered his hand to the woman.

Lucy pressed herself back into the wisteria and felt tears well up in her eyes. She was being unreasonable, she knew it. She had no right to be upset. She had no business stalking her friend through dark hotel gardens.

A trailing frond of wisteria fell across her face. Batting it away, it got stuck in her hair. She tore at it in frustration, cursing, and felt her scalp burn as she ripped at her hair.

‘For fuck’s… bloody ow!’

She could hear footsteps approaching. Rubbing at her head, she turned to head back the way she had come. As she moved, her foot caught the leg of one of the garden chairs. It crashed to the ground, the bang reverberating around the quiet gardens. Lucy tumbled after it, her bare shins hitting the chair as she fell, breaking her fall with her hands as she hit the terrace.

The woman’s voice sounded nearby. ‘What was that?’

Lucy lay still on the ground, pressing herself into the space between the wall and the tables, hoping the darkness would conceal her sprawled figure. Just a few feet from where her cheek was pressed against the flagstones, was a pair of elegant designer shoes, above which slender ankles turned into slim and shapely calves. Holding her breath, she hoped she was well enough hidden. Her shins were burning, but she didn’t dare reach down to rub them. How could she explain what she was doing stumbling about on her own just around the corner from Jack and his new companion? She couldn’t very well pop up with wisteria in her hair, limping and introduce herself.

‘Not sure,’ came Jack’s reply, just a few feet from Lucy. ‘Nothing important, I don’t think. Here, after you.’

As they walked away, Lucy heard the murmur of the woman’s voice and Jack’s deep chuckle. She lay motionless in the darkness beside the fallen chair. Rubbing at her shins, a tear ran down her face. She pulled herself to her knees and squinted over the table at the shadowy figures heading down the steps.

She could stay out here all night, she thought. In the cool and dark. What Jack got up to was none of her business, so long as it didn’t jeopardise the lie. He was, after all, a free man. Then she remembered watching Jack taking the woman’s hand, listening intently to her. A lump formed in her throat. She had to know what was going on, even if she didn’t like what she found. Clambering to her feet, she winced at the pain in her shins and hobbled down the terrace.

The staff had rolled up the ends of the marquee to let air in, and Lucy stumbled through the opening. Most people were on the dance floor, moving as one sweaty surge of bodies to Tina Turner’s Proud Mary. Alcohol-filled arms and legs struggled to keep up with the furious pace of the music, faces contorted with effort. Sophie sat with Ollie at a table, patiently feeding him cake and making him take sips of water.

There was no sign of Jack in the throng, so Lucy headed straight to the bar.

‘Double gin and tonic,’ she shouted over the music.

Maybe Jack and the woman hadn’t come back to the party. Perhaps they were still wandering the grounds, hands entwined, whispering sweet nothings to one another. Jack brushing that lustrous, dark hair away from her face, laughing at everything she said.

A hand came to rest on her waist. ‘There you are,’ Jack said, and slid in beside her.

‘Yes, here I am,’ Lucy said primly. ‘I didn’t go anywhere.’

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