Page 97 of Lie For Me

‘I see,’ Lucy said. ‘I think you know that I would have supported you in whatever you wanted for yourself.’

Her face was pinched, and Jack’s heart lurched.

‘Lucy,’ Jack began.

‘I can’t believe you didn’t tell me you’re leaving, and that—’ she hesitated, ‘you let me…you let us be together last night with you knowing this and me completely in the dark. Like some idiot.’

Her mouth was trembling as she spoke.

‘Luce, I’ve been trying to tell you for days. Actually, since the day you asked me to come with you to the wedding. Every time I try, we get interrupted, or you change the subject.’

Lucy looked slightly chastened, and her tone was a touch softer when she spoke.

‘Yes, but I still didn’t know, did I? Something major about your life, that other people here know about,’ she hissed, ‘but not me. That’s not fair, Jack.’

‘It was hardly premeditated,’ he said. ‘This isn’t about how I feel about you, or about what happened last night. It’s about,’ he searched for the words, ‘not starting something we can’t finish.’

‘That’s right enough,’ she said, a catch in her voice. ‘There’s nothing to start.’

The bubbly waitress returned with wonderful timing.

‘Hi again,’ she said, spreading her smile between them both. Lucy stared at Jack across the table, and he forced a smile for the waitress.

‘For yourself, the full English.’ She deposited a steaming plate in front of Jack. ‘For yourself,’ she plonked a toast rack in front of Lucy, ‘toast and jams. Is everything all right for yourselves?’ she asked.

Jack felt that no, actually, everything is far from alright for ourselves.

Across the table, Lucy gave a tight little nod of the head.

‘All okay, thank you,’ Jack said.

Jack sawed a sausage in half. ‘I don’t want things to be weird between us.’

‘Why would they be weird between us?’ Lucy asked brightly.

She spread marmalade on her toast.

Jack watched and frowned.

‘I didn’t think you liked marmalade,’ he said.

‘Oh, I do!’ Lucy said as she took a big bite of toast. ‘I love it.’ She chewed ferociously. ‘Guess you didn’t know that about me.’

Jack was taken aback for a moment. Lucy looked regretful before she even finished her sentence.

‘Sorry,’ she whispered. ‘That was mean.’

Jack reached his hand across the table and slipped his fingers through hers.

‘I haven’t,’ he swallowed and looked around as if someone might hear them, ‘felt like that with someone before.’

Lucy’s free hand hung suspended in mid-air between her mouth and the plate.

‘Me neither.’

‘To be honest, Lucy, I hesitated because I didn’t want to talk to you—to anyone—about New York until I’d had time to really think about it myself. I need to make the decision on my own. I’ve worked my whole life for this kind of opportunity. And,’ he shrugged, ‘I’m no good at relationships. We both know that.’ He couldn’t look at her. ‘If we tried, even if we both wanted to, I’d be in New York, you’d be in Yorkshire and…’

‘Sure,’ Lucy said, her voice quiet. She placed her half-eaten slice of toast on her plate and pushed it away from her. ‘Makes sense. It was a mistake. We were right the first time.’

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