Page 78 of Be More Lucy

Em and Jack stood on the landing at Octopus Cottage, admiring their newly refurbished bathroom. It looked exactly how Em had hoped. Shiny new modern white suite with turquoise tiles on the main wall and matching cupboards. The plumber and his tiler had done a superb job.

‘We should’ve kept the avocado suite,’ Jack said, looking serious.

Em dabbed white emulsion paint on his nose. ‘It’s all outside in the garden if you’re missing it. Come on. The sooner we get this painted, the sooner we can move in. We need to finish in here today. That’s what it says on the plan. Then we can start on the dining room.’

‘I never realised you were such a slave driver.’

‘And I never realised you were such a procrastinator.’ Em handed Jack his roller and a newly filled paint tray. ‘Your furniture’s coming out of storage in three weeks. We’ve got to keep the momentum going.’

‘Can we have the radio on?’ Jack asked.

Em rolled her eyes. ‘If it will help you work faster, yes.’

Jack disappeared into his new office and returned with an old transistor radio.

‘How long have you had that?’ Em asked. Her dad had kept a similar one to listen to in his shed, but it hadn’t worked for years.

‘Since I was a child. My grandfather gave it to me.’ He extended the ariel and twiddled with the dials. ‘The signal’s not great here. I can only get local radio.’

The current show was a phone-in, and today’s topic was the state of the main road through Dashford, with various callers complaining about the big pothole at the entrance to the harbour car park.

‘Is this the best we can do?’ Em asked.

‘The news will be on in a minute.’ Jack picked up the roller.

‘Oh, before you start that, could you be an angel and fetch that new tin of white paint from the garage? I’m going to finish this one any second else.’

Jack sighed. ‘Anything else?’

‘Could you put the kettle on, on your way back? I’ll need some warm water to wash the brushes.’

Fortunately for Em, Jack’s reply was interrupted by the radio announcer. ‘Welcome to North Devon FM. Here’s the one o’clock news on Sunday 29th September.’

‘Shit!’ Em said.

‘What’s the matter?’

‘It’s Lucy’s birthday on Tuesday, and I haven’t got her anything. All this decorating knocked it out of my head.’

‘You could send her some flowers.’

‘She’s my best friend. I have to do better than that. I’ll see if there’s some jewellery I can get from the gallery tomorrow. I hope Mark’s doing something for her birthday.’

‘He’s not mentioned anything.’

‘He does know, doesn’t he? Could you remind him?’

‘Would that be before or after I shove the broom up my backside so I can sweep the floors as well?’

42

Lucy sat on her sofa, looking out over Birmingham. 31 years old. She didn’t like the sound of that. It hadn’t felt like her birthday today. She hoped this wasn’t how birthdays were going to be now she was in her fourth decade. Neither Kizzy nor Flynn had remembered at work. Em had texted her to apologise for forgetting to post her present on time. And she had no girls’ night out to look forward to either. Everyone was either away or, in Ella’s case, suffering from raging morning sickness that was so bad it extended into afternoon and evening sickness as well.

The lights on top of the BT tower flickered in the twilight. Not a bad view, but she’d much rather be watching the setting sun from Mark’s garden in Spain, preferably cosying up to a semi-naked Mark on his comfortable double sun lounger and sipping a generous glass of sangria.

Cheer up, Lucy. Only three more days before you’ll be back on the plane to Malaga and spending the weekend doing exactly that.

Lucy had been disappointed when there was no card or present from Mark in the post this morning. But they’d only been officially back together for just over two weeks. He might have forgotten it was her birthday. She’d dropped it into the conversation at the weekend, but he had been half asleep at the time. And even if he had posted something then, it probably wouldn’t get to Lucy for a few days.

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