10. Ten

Ten

T he afternoon sun is shining down on the terrace as Lucy and I head outside with our drinks. We're making the most of a quiet midweek afternoon and grabbing half an hour for a lunch break in the sun.

"I still can't believe it," Lucy says in disbelief as we sit down at one of the wrought iron tables. "What a fucking creep."

I settle back in the chair. "Which creep are you referring to?"

"That fucking Jamie bloke. We've always known Theo was one." She takes a sip of tea and rests her cup down on the table.

My eyes slide to her. "Actually, speaking of Theo, Art said you'd told him Theo's last name."

She throws me an innocent look and shrugs. "So? What's the harm in that?"

"Surely, you must have wondered why he wanted to know and why he hadn't asked me what it was. "

Lucy taps her fingernails against the metal arm of her chair. "Well, I was hoping it was because he'd track Theo down to give him the kicking he deserves."

I roll my eyes. "I knew it. Violence isn't the answer."

She raises an eyebrow. "It is where he's concerned."

I gaze into the rose garden. To fight fire with fire is just as bad. "You sound like Art."

"Art's talking sense then," Lucy replies stoutly, picking her cup up. She sits back in the chair and shoots me a firm look. "Theo treated you like shit and deserves everything he gets, in my opinion."

"I told him straight that I wasn't going to meet him and that he needed to piss off. It seems to have worked. I don't think we'll be seeing him again," I say hopefully.

I haven't told Lucy that Art's having Theo followed. She'd love the drama of it all. Besides, it's been a few days, and there's been no sign of him. He's disappeared. Just like I hoped he would.

"Bloody good riddance to bad rubbish," Lucy mutters crossly, taking a drink of tea.

My mobile vibrates against the tabletop, and Unknown flashes on the display. I frown. Who the hell is this?

Lucy looks at the phone and then to me. "Well, are you gonna answer it?"

"Hello?"

"Hello, Sophie dear."

I vaguely recognise the female voice but can't put my finger on it. "Yes. Who's speaking?"

"It's Barbara."

"Oh, hi, Barbara. Er … is everything okay?" I say, trying to work how she got my number.

Lucy raises her eyebrows.

"Yes, sorry for calling. I've a few questions about the engagement party, caterers and whatnot. Art suggested I speak to you and gave me your number. I hope you don't mind. "

Barbara's organising the whole thing for us. The very least I can do is speak to her about it.

"Yes, that's fine, no problem."

"Erm, right … let's see." I hear a rustling of paper in the background. "I've ordered a mix of vegetarian and vegan food from the caterers because I wouldn't want to miss anyone out …"

"Yes, great idea," I reply even though I don't know any vegans but appreciate Barbara's trying to cover all bases.

"And I've ordered ten boxes of white, red, and rosé wine and a crate of Bollinger …"

My eyes widen. She's certainly gone to town on the alcohol.

"Erm, yes, that sounds lovely."

"Fifty guests have confirmed they're definitely coming …"

I throw a worried glance at Lucy, who's smiling at my concern. "Great."

"The fourteen-day weather forecast says it's going to be sunny, so fingers crossed the weather's kind, and we'll host it outside in the garden."

"That sounds wonderful. Thank you so much for planning this all for us. It's really nice of you."

"Oh, it's no problem at all, dear." There's a smile to her voice. "I can't wait to meet your parents. I'm so looking forward to it."

"Great. Thanks, Barbara."

"Ohh, it's going to be so lovely," she says excitedly. "Bye, dear."

"Bye."

I place my phone back down, going over what she just said.

"What did the mother-in-law want?" Lucy asks.

"There are fifty guests coming."

"Sounds like it's going to be some party."

"Judging by all the booze, most definitely. "

I lift my cup to my lips and watch as George hurries across the courtyard, talking on his phone. He gives a cheery wave. We wave back and watch him hurry into the Orangery.

"Old Georgie's looking uncharacteristically upbeat," Lucy remarks.

"He's found love."

She pulls a face. "Really?"

"Stop it," I scold. "He's been on his own since his wife died. I think it's lovely that he's found someone."

Lucy gives me a rueful look. "Yeah, I suppose. He can be a picky old sod, but he means well."

My phone rings again.

Lucy sighs. "Bloody hell, that thing's like the Bat phone. It's not Barbara again, is it?"

This time, it's my mum.

"Hi. Is everything okay?"

"Hi, Sophie love. It's just a quickie because I know you're at work. I'm in the middle of Marks and Spencer and need your advice."

"Advice about what?"

"What sort of 'do' is this party going to be next week?"

I frown, unsure of what she's getting at. "What do you mean? It's an engagement party."

"Yes, I know that, but is it going to be a formal or casual affair? I want to make sure I'm dressed appropriately. We can't have the mother of the bride letting the side down."

"Mum, you won't let the side down, and I'm sure whatever you wear will be fine."

"I've picked out two new dresses," she carries on, ignoring me. "One's more evening wear, and the other's a bit more summery."

"You don't need to go to any trouble," I assure her.

"It's not trouble, love. Martin's been on Google Maps and looked up Art's mums' house … you didn't tell me it was a mansion."

I roll my eyes. Here we go again. "It's not a mansion."

Lucy's eyes widen with excitement.

"I want to look my best for when I meet his mum."

"You'll look fine. Stop worrying; there's really no need."

"Well?"

"Well what?"

"Will it be a formal do or not?"

I sigh. "I don't know. I don't think so. I mean … if the weather's nice, we'll be outside …"

"Aha, the floral one it is then. Okay, love. Must dash. I've left Martin in menswear, picking out some new trousers."

"Bye, Mum."

"What was all that about?" Lucy asks.

I put my phone down and sigh. "Mum's fretting about what to wear for the engagement party. She's buying a new dress."

Lucy giggles. "Poor old Martin." She takes a sip of tea, her eyes sparkling. "So, is it a mansion then?"

"No! God, don't you start. It's just … a big house."

Olly walks out into the courtyard, collecting glasses from off the tables and whistling to himself. "Afternoon, ladies."

We smile in response to his cheery acknowledgment.

"He's another one who's very chirpy," Lucy remarks as he disappears back into the Orangery.

"I met his girlfriend the other night."

"No wonder he's happy then. He's getting some. What's she like?"

"Blonde, pretty. She seemed nice. Her name's Holly."

She laughs. "Olly and Holly. Seriously?"

"I think it's cute."

Lucy wrinkles her nose in disagreement and heaves a despondent sigh .

Something's up. The last few days, Lucy hasn't been her usual happy-go-lucky self. Don't tell me the honeymoon phase with her and Big Steve has worn off already.

"You sound as though you're a bit jealous."

She frowns. "About what?"

"About the fact that Olly's ‘getting some' as you put it, and you're not," I probe.

She doesn't reply. This is harder work than I imagined.

"So?" I press.

She shrugs her shoulders and carries on looking out across the gardens. "So?"

"Come on, Luce. What's going on with you and Big Steve?"

"He's taking over Dark Desires."

She knows that's not what I'm referring to. I decide to go with it—for now.

"And how do you feel about that?"

She casts me a sideways glance and smiles. "Fine. I'm not a prude, like you."

"That's great and all, but I wasn't referring to Big Steve taking over the running of the club, and you know it."

Lucy puts her cup down. "Steve's lovely. He's kind and caring, and he makes me laugh. We have a great time together. In fact, I feel like I've known him for years. It feels right. And I don't remember feeling this way about Mark when he and I first got together."

"But that's good, isn't it?"

"Yes, that's good."

"Why are you being such hard work? Just spit it out."

She blushes and fiddles with the teaspoon on the saucer. "You're right … about what you said. Of course I'm not jealous. It's just that things aren't moving as quickly as I'd like … in the bedroom."

"Oh, so you haven't …"

"No, and I'm getting really frustrated," she snaps. "I know he's doing the right thing. He's taking things slowly for my benefit, because of the whole wedding thing, but the longer it goes on, the harder it's getting. We see one another every night, apart from the nights he works. I'm a bit old for PG-13 kissing. I'm running out of batteries for my vibrator."

I nearly choke on a mouthful of tea.

"If he doesn't do something soon, I think I'm going to explode."

"Talk to him."

"And how do I start that conversation, Soph? Can we stop pussyfooting around and get down to business?"

"Well, yeah."

"I know I need to say something. It's just … difficult."

"When Art and I have our ups and downs, you always tell me to talk to him, and it works. In fact, if we hadn't talked, we might not be together now."

Lucy shoots me an envious look. "Yeah, you would. You two are meant to be. You just go together … like strawberries and cream."

"Here you are." Art heads across the terrace towards us.

He's dressed all in black, the sleeves of his shirt rolled back to the elbows, revealing glorious, tanned forearms. My heart squeezes, and I can't help wondering if there'll ever be a time when I don't want him.

He gives me an easy smile. "I wondered where you'd gone. What are you two gossiping about?"

Lucy shoots me a warning look. I take the hint.

"We're just having a catch-up."

He brushes his fingertips over the back of my hand and crouches down beside my chair, bringing his face level with mine. "I hope you don't mind, but I gave Mum your number."

"Yes, I know. She called."

His eyes slide to my phone on the table. "Ah … well, she was asking questions about the engagement party, and to be honest, I'm not bothered. If you're happy, then I'm happy. I don't care what they drink or who's there, to be honest." He glances at Lucy. "No offence."

She shrugs. "None taken. "

He gazes at me. "As long as you're there, that's all that matters."

I smile. "Well, I'm definitely going."

"Good."

He goes to kiss me, and I pull back. Even though we're engaged and all the staff knows about us, it still feels entirely inappropriate for us to be openly affectionate at work.

"We're at work," I remind him.

"And you're on your lunch break." He glances at his watch. "And I'm on mine."

He presses his lips to mine to silence any further objections.

I hear a disgruntled sigh coming from the other side of me.

"You two make me sick," Lucy grumbles.

"Ignore her," I mutter against his mouth.

"I intend to." Art smiles, carrying on kissing me.