“Ladies, play nice,” said George, finally sitting down at the table. “And why on earth do you need moral support?”
“We don’t, not really,” Pen said. “But Ash’s mother called this morning asking about the wedding again, so she’s in a snit.”
“I’m not in a snit,” Ash said. “I just want to make sure that everything’s… the way it’s supposed to be.”
“You’ve got the most simple wedding known to man planned,” Lucy put in, taking a slice of cold roast beef. “You literally have nothing left to plan. We all turn up, there’s some flowers, you get married, we all eat sandwiches and cake. I don’t think you can make things any less complicated.”
“It’s not how complicated things are,” Billy said slowly. “It’s how much it means to you that’s the problem.”
“Well, in our case, it’s my mother’s long, long experience with weddings that’s the problem,” Ash said. “Nine weddings of her own and she’s some kind of expert.”
“Yes, love, but this is going to be a one and only kind of wedding, so it’s best that we do it right,” said Pen, patting Ash’s arm again and making Lucy feel that spark of jealousy again.
“And you’re literally getting married for the tax break,” George threw in.
“And the honeymoon,” said Pen. “Don’t forget that.”
“I’m an accountant by trade,” said Ash. “There are several tax advantages to marriage, including—”
“No,” George said. “No accounting talk at the table. If you want to advise Billy on our taxes, you’re very welcome. But we won’tdiscuss such vile things over dinner.”
“Dinner? It’s only four o’clock,” Ash said.
“Which is dinner time if you’re a postman and have to be up at the crack of dawn,” said George, flashing an adoring look at Billy.
All this adoration. That was the problem. It wasn’t that Lucy begrudged her friends each other, it was more… More that she was lonely, she realized as she watched them. Surrounded by people who loved her, who laughed with her, and still lonely.
“Personally, I love eating dinner at four o’clock,” Pen said dreamily. “It means there’s plenty of time for snacks later. I’ve been working on one of those new Crookie things, you know, a mixture of croissant and cookie dough, and it’s incredible.”
“So what’s going to happen to the bakery when you’re on your honeymoon?” Lucy asked, feeling like she should take part in the conversation a little more rather than wallowing in her own misery at being lonely.
“I’m happening to it,” George said proudly.
Pen smiled at him calmly and then turned to Lucy. “Actually, I was going to ask you if you could help out a bit. Just when you’re not at the newsagents. There’ll be no fresh bakes, just heat up from frozen, so between the two of you it should all be fine.”
“Absolutely,” Lucy said, because she’d do anything for Pen. “You don’t even have to ask.”
“Are you both wearing dresses then?” George demanded.
The table devolved into wedding chatter and Lucy concentrated on eating and trying to be happy for everyone. She was happy for everyone. But that didn’t mean that she wasn’t a little jealous too.
By the time six o’clock rolled around, Pen and Ash had said their goodbyes, Billy was loading the dishwasher, and Lucy could take her glass of wine out into the little garden.
It was unseasonably hot, the sun still biting at her skin as she looked out over the sea, trying to examine why she wasn’t as happy as she really thought she should be.
“You alright out here?” George said, coming out with two steaming mugs. “Here.” He swapped the dregs of her wine for ahot cup of coffee. “Drink too much of the red stuff and you’ll be complaining of a headache all day tomorrow and that’s the last thing we need.”
She took the mug. “You don’t have to look after me.”
“Don’t I?” George asked, cocking his dark head. “’Cos it looks like someone should. You’ve a face like a wet weekend. What’s going on?”
Lucy sighed and sat down on the kitchen step, letting the soft breeze blow her hair back. “Just… Just being the third wheel is getting a bit old, I suppose.”
“Fifth wheel,” George said, coming to sit beside her. “You’re the fifth wheel.” He calmly considered the view. “Mind you, it has been a while since you’ve had any action.”
“George!”
“What? Your bedroom is across the hall from ours, it’s not like we wouldn’t know if you had a woman in, so to speak.”