Page 36 of Be More Lucy

‘My mother might know, but it doesn’t sound like they’re going to budge, so I guess it doesn’t matter. What are we going to do now? That’s every venue in or near Dashford eliminated.’

They drove in silence down the hill into the village, Em racking her brains for other solutions. ‘We could have a celebrant, then we can have our wedding ceremony anywhere we like. That’s what one of Ella’s work colleagues did. They had a traditional Celtic wedding, including jumping the broomstick.’

Jack didn’t look impressed. ‘Sounds more like a fake Victorian version of a Celtic ceremony to me. I’d be the laughing stock of the history department.’

‘Actually, it is a genuine Welsh tradition, Mr Cynical. But we don’t have to include anything you don’t like. We could even write our own vows.’

‘I promise to love and cherish you and follow you around picking up your clothes wherever you’ve discarded them till death do us part, probably due to me tripping over them?’ he suggested with a grin.

‘I was thinking something less passive-aggressive. And your books are a bigger trip hazard than my clothes, so you’re on dodgy ground there.’

‘Joking apart, we’d have to have a register office ceremony first, so we’d already be legally married. It wouldn’t feel the same.’

‘No, I guess not,’ Em said sadly.

21

It was Friday night, and Em and Jack were in the courtyard at Dashford Grange getting into Jack’s car.

Em’s phone pinged as Jack started the engine. A text from Lucy.

At the bar in the Fisherman’s. Please save me from this prick!

Em frowned. Jack looked over at her. ‘Everything ok?’

‘Looks like Lucy’s in the pub already.’ She texted back.

What prick?

Lucy replied almost immediately.

Mark. Who do you think?

Em turned to Jack. ‘Why’s Mark at the Fisherman’s Arms?’

‘Because that’s where I’m meeting him.’

‘But I thought you two were meeting at the Kingfisher.’

‘No, you’re meeting Lucy at the Kingfisher.’

‘No, Lucy and I are going to the Fisherman’s Arms.’

‘You definitely said the Kingfisher. You’ve not done this deliberately, have you?’

‘No! I swear I said the Fisherman’s. I thought you weren’t listening properly when we discussed it last night.’

Jack sighed. ’Too late now. So much for keeping them apart. We better get down there ASAP.’

A few minutes later, they pulled into the car park by the harbour.

‘Ready?’ Jack asked as they headed towards the pub. ‘Whatever is through those doors, we have a better chance of survival if we work together,’ he said, doing his best Russell Crowe impression.

Why were men obsessed with Gladiator? ‘Come on Maximus Decimus Meridius. We’ll be fine. Lucy was planning to leave her scythed chariot at home this weekend. I gather it’s a bit tricky to drive it down the M5.’ Em slipped her hand into Jack’s as they walked across the road to the pub.

‘Hi!’ Em waved at Lucy, who was sitting at one end of a long table. Mark had his back to her at the other end. Both of them were concentrating on their phones and ignoring one another.

‘Drink?’ Jack made a hand signal for a glass of something.

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