by Emily Hudson
Chapter Three
Standing in line, queuing for some much needed caffeine, I checked my phone. Eight missed calls; as I swiped to open another flashed up. Alicia. Instantly I hit accept. ‘Lucy Jasmine Crawford, I have been trying to get hold of you for over an hour now, you could have been dead or dying for all I knew.’
‘Sorry, I was at the gym.’ I said apologetically.
‘The gym! Didn’t you burn off enough energy last night? I can’t believe you crawled out of bed with our handsome best man, to go to the gym; of all the days you could have given it a rest, Lucy.’ I waited whilst she relayed this obviously, news worthy piece of information to her husband.
‘Have you finished? You phoned me remember.’ I was really irritable; Licia shared everything with Ethan, I didn’t really mind anymore, I’d gotten used to it.
‘So, what happened?’ Alicia urged.
‘Oh, it happened!’ I paused, thinking about how awkward Ethan knowing everything could be in the future, we were all bound by the same friendship.
‘And!’ came Alicia’s frustrated sigh.
‘And it was great, better than great.’ Alicia was giggling obviously communicating with her husband somehow.
‘Soooo, how’d you leave it?’
Annoyed by myself for more than likely having fucked up social events for the next decade or two, I got a little short.
‘It was one night Alicia, that’s how it was and that’s all it ever will be.’
‘Ooo tetchy, someone got out of bed the wrong side. Don’t tell me he left you alone, he was so into you, even Ethan said Marcus was different last night. Taking a sip from the Americano the barista had just handed over, I scalded myself. I took a sharp intake of breath; shit that’s hot!
‘What was that?’ Alicia asked concerned.
‘Oh, just karma.’ I sigh.
‘Burnt my bloody mouth.’
The softness of Alicia’s voice returned. ‘What happened Luce?’
I made my way out of the coffee shop and retreated into the park opposite. Slumped on a bench, I poured my heart out. Admitting that fearing rejection, I walked instead of facing him. Before I knew it, I had tears streaming down my face, my ex had really done a number on me, more than I’d been prepared to admit.
‘Where are you? I’m coming to get you.’
‘I’m outside Lava Java, but no, no you’re not, you’re supposed to be going on honeymoon in a few hours. I’m such a selfish cow, I haven’t even asked you about the house.’
‘You knew,’ she shrieked, ‘and you didn’t say anything.’
‘I know, what kind of friend does that make me?’ I sobbed.
‘The best ever! Now stay put, I’m on my way, then you won’t have to ask about the house, I can give you a guided tour.’
Thirty minutes later an Aston Martin pulled up, Alicia, appearing through the lowered window yelling, ‘Jump in!’, as she is beeped from behind. ‘Wow, Ethan let you leave with this.’ She turned and smirked? ‘First keys I grabbed, he’ll realise soon.’ As if on cue the hands free interrupted the rousing beat of Alicia Keyes, “Empire State of Mind.”
‘Sweetheart?’ Ethan said in a questioning slash accusatory tone.
‘I’m sorry darling, can’t chat I’ve just discovered the accelerator.’ She said in a sickly-sweet manner, revving the gas pedal making the car roar to life as I giggled. ‘Home in thirty, love you.’
We actually arrived in twenty minutes, turning into the gravel driveway of their new home we were welcomed by a frantic Ethan pacing up and down on the front steps. ‘Five cars to choose from and you choose that one.’ He said greeting her as if she’d been away for weeks.
Grinning widely, she pulled away from his embrace, looking him squarely in the eyes. ‘I know, I’d have been mad not too!’ I looked on, ever so slightly tinged with jealousy as they resumed their embrace. Ethan took such care with Alicia. I wanted someone to take care of me, to adore me for just being me. I’ve never had it, not really. Would I even recognise it if I came across it? Whatever it is.
‘Come on you two, anyone would think you were just married. Am I getting this guided tour or what?’
Ethan finally acknowledged my presence offering me his other arm. Linking arms the three of us ascended the steps, nearing the top, Ethan turned his attention to me and grinned, ‘So I hear you did the dirty with my best friend.’ Oh, hell, ground swallow me up. ‘I never said this but, well done for giving him a taste of his medicine, I reckon he needed it.’ Though I smiled, it was half-hearted, I still felt like a bitch but I appreciated his support. Thankfully that was all that was mentioned.
The tour ensued, the house was out of this world. Despite rushing to complete it in time, the décor, well everything, was perfect. Ethan had made all Alicia’s dreams come true and no one deserved it more. ‘You two are really making me feel so much better about going back to my poky little basement.’
‘Well, there in, lies a question.’ Ethan said.
‘Ahh, you guys, you want me to move in with you. That’s so sweet! I’ll have to say no, but thanks for asking.’ I joked.
‘Well, we haven’t got around to employing any staff yet, so…we were kind of hoping we could ask you to house sit while we’re on honeymoon.’ Alicia asked.
Pretending to be offended, ‘So what, I’m the hired help now am I? That’s just great!’ I had to nudge Alicia’s elbow before she realised I wasn’t serious. ‘Of course I will…on two conditions. 1. You don’t invite any other friends to, I dunno, say do the gardening?’ Ethan sniggered, I’d obviously read his mind.
‘Anyone in particular on your veto list? He toyed.
‘Just one!’
‘OK, agreed! What’s the second? Alicia piped up.
‘Can I pick the room?’
Ethan gestured up the stairs with his hand ‘Fill your boots.’ Alicia and I hugged and then ran upstairs like we were giggling teenagers again leaving Ethan stood below, smiling as he watched on.
Once I’d settled on the room overlooking the orchard, Ethan started the laborious task of introducing me to, hang on, scrap that, boring me to tears with the security features of the house before the newlyweds left for their honeymoon. Ethan may have shared his secret wedding gift, the house, with me but his lips were firmly sealed regarding the honeymoon destination.
I stood on the front staircase, waving the pair off until they were out of sight, upon which I closed the front door and physically jumped for joy. I’d have to go back to my place and get some essentials but that could wait. I had a house to fully explore, two weeks of living in luxury. Seriously, who needs a home cinema room…me that’s who…Woo Hoo!
Eventually I managed to prize myself off the super cosy sofa. I thought I better make the effort to get back to mine and grab some food before it got dark. Arriving back at my place, it shouldn’t have been surprising how grotty and rundown it looked. Nice! The remnants of someone’s kebab and stomach lining graced the steps down to my front door. I gave the door a shove, hard enough to probably bruise my arm as I battled opening it. Between the heat and the rain it was a constant battle with it swelling. If my landlord wasn’t the creepiest guy on the planet I’d have reported it, as it was I rarely asked for anything. I just prayed that one day I’d find my feet, land a big promotion and move into something better. Sadly, a one bedroom flat with two minuscule windows that provided barely enough natural light to enable life, was the best I could do.
Well at least I wouldn’t have to worry about that for the next two weeks I thought as I grabbed a bag and stuffed an array of work clothes and underwear in it. Relieved I hadn’t heard from Mr Creepy I backed out of my front door, bag in tow.
‘Going somewhere nice?’ A shiver spread across me.
‘Yes, thank you.’ I always tried to remain civil.
‘Don’t forget your rent is due in a week.’
Gritting my teeth, I tried to smile sweetly, ‘I haven’t forgotten a payment yet.’ As I finished loading th
e boot of my car, he brushed up beside me.
‘You know if there was ever a problem you could always come to me.’ I shuddered as I caught a whiff of his breath. My caring and sharing landlord would love his own personal arrangement; I’d rather kill myself.
‘That’s very kind of you and Mrs Woolmer but not necessary, thank you.’ Ha! Stick that in your pipe and smoke it. It never hurt to bring up his wife to change his pervy tune. I willed my car to start first time and she did. You beaut! Glancing in the mirror, I looked back in horror, I could have sworn I’d seen him fiddle with himself, watching as I pulled out into the traffic; sick bastard!
My skin was still crawling by the time I got back to Alicia’s, time to forget him, I had more important decisions, pool or sauna? I must look quite the lonesome sight, sipping a glass of wine, reading beside the pool but to be honest I was in my element. I’d been so busy of late, I could take a little time for myself tonight. What is it they say? – You have to love yourself before you can love someone else and I was loving taking some time out for me. Emails, work demands and clients could all wait; tomorrow was another day. By the time the morning came around I’d knew I’d regret it but now, right now, I was living in the moment.
* * *
‘There’s my boy, come in my dear, don’t stand on ceremony.’ I was greeted by my much-cherished Nanny, looking worryingly frail, every bit her 78 years.
‘I…I brought cobbler.’ I stuttered trying to counteract my initial shock, but gestured to the casserole dish I clutched.
‘So I see, but what’s this? She asked reaching up to brush her fingers against the bristles of my uncharacteristic five o’clock shadow.
‘A busy weekend!’ I offered, she raised one eyebrow, the same one that told me she could see straight through me.
‘How was the wedding?’
A smile curled instantly to my lips, ‘It was perfect! Alicia was beautiful and Ethan, well he’s just so… happy.’ I thought back to the wonderful night.
Kitty reached up to touch my forehead, ‘Are you feeling ok? What was it you called marriage, “the worst sentence you could bestow upon two people.” Has something or someone changed your mind?’
My lopsided grin returned, ‘Why does it have to be someone?’
She turned to towards the kitchen chuckling, ‘You’ve never been able to pull the wool over my…’ Unable to finish her sentence, dropping to a crouch, she gripped the doorframe, wincing in pain. Alarmed, I rushed to her side. Taking my hand, she let me guide her to the kitchen chair. ‘I’ll be alright, just need to take a breather.’ I watched on, realising her fragile state was a little more serious. Sitting beside her I took her hand, her elegant long fingers, that had once taught me to play the piano were nothing more than skin and bones.
‘How long have you felt like this?’ I asked, concerned as I looked into her pained eyes.
‘I’m an old woman, can’t remember the last time I didn’t have a twinge or two, stop fussing my dear.’
‘Kitty,’ I said a little sternly, ‘when was the last time you went to the doctors?’
‘I haven’t time for that, I have Bridge on Monday, Pilates on Tuesday and the WI have a talk about the wildlife in Kenya on Wednesday, you see, there just isn’t time.’
‘That’s where you are wrong young lady, what time is Bridge?’ I could sense a battle. ‘I’m not telling you.’ she said adamantly.
‘Well then I’ll be with you at nine tomorrow morning and I will accompany you everywhere until you agree to see a doctor.’ Once I had eventually silenced her objections, I rescued the cobbler from the hallway.
‘It smells divine my boy, you must give me the recipe.’ She joked, the twinkle returning to her eyes. Kitty had inspired my love of cooking, her family recipes were now my recipes. Her pride and joy was a faded navy blue journal that contained recipes, some of which that went back five generations. I served the piping hot cobbler onto our plates whilst Kitty asked for all the details of the wedding. By the time I had got around to telling her about the firework finale, I noticed that she had eaten very little. I looked down at her plate.
‘Stop fussing, I’m just not that hungry, now this girl, when are you seeing her again?’ I hadn’t said anything about Lucy.
‘What makes you think it’s a girl?’ I said with a cheeky smile.
‘It’s written all over your face, my boy. It strikes me, whoever she is, she’s obviously good for you.’ I explained that we hadn’t made any plans; skipping over the part where Lucy had slipped through my fingers without any acknowledgment. ‘Well you need a game plan; if you want her, you’ll have to go get her.’ I nearly spat the contents of my mouth all over the table, she had me flabbergasted. Open mouthed she’d silenced me, turning me into someone that resembled a PEZ dispenser as she continued. ‘Us girls liked to be wooed; whatever you come up with, make it good.’ Kitty had never married, she had dedicated her life to bringing up children and she had been a permanent feature in our household, what with my sister being considerably younger than me, Kitty had notched up nearly twenty years with us. ‘Were you ever wooed?’
A smile formed, ‘Yes my boy, I was wooed, once.’ Her eyes turned sad as she privately reminisced. I knew her well enough not to pursue the topic further. ‘You don’t often get second chances, so make it count.’ Shaking her painful thoughts away, she started to clear away the plates.
‘Oh, no you don’t.’ I said removing the plates from her, glad she offered very little resistance, she was tired. ‘It won’t take me long, then we can sit down and watch whatever you like on catch up. Bake Off, Strictly, Downton Abbey, Poldark if you must.’
She stood to make her way to the lounge; she stopped, grabbing one of my soapy hands, ‘I know I’m biased but the best way to woo her is just by being you.’ Neither of us said anything further, we didn’t have to. Kitty was my greatest ally, without her I dread to think what would have become of me.
The evening wore on; I had received quite the education before I bid her goodnight. Kitty providing me with a full critique of each celebrity on Strictly Come Dancing. I use the term celebrity loosely, half of them I had never heard of. ‘Until the morning.’ I bowed, reminding her I’d not forgotten, nor would I relent.
‘If you insist.’ Her reticence clear as she raised her eyebrows.
The casserole dish clattered around on the journey home. I reflected on Kitty’s words. ‘Got to have a game plan.’ Really? I doubt that, I’d bet my bottom dollar I’ll be seeing Lucy again before the week was out.
Chapter Four
Monday morning came round all too quickly and as a consequence of my ‘living in the moment’ weekend, Carole, Founder and CEO or Director or whatever her favourite title of the day was, was waiting for me as I entered the building. ‘Lucy, do you have a moment?’ Though a pleasant question, there was never a choice.
‘Soy latte?’ I offered; it was something I did daily but today it felt more like a peace offering.
‘Thank you, now sit.’ I did accordingly as she started her tirade. ‘I was a little surprised not to receive your tender for the Campbell account, we are already walking on a tightrope with this one, we need to deliver on this pronto…’ I zoned out as she discussed lead times and reputation only picking up when I heard my name. ‘Lucy I’m sure there is a bright future here at Spectrum Events but there are any number of project managers readily chomping at your heels.’ There it was, the carrot, however she dangled it, it always seemed out of reach.
‘I won’t let you down, it was my best friend’s wedding at the weekend…’
Carole cut my excuse short, ‘Work hard, play hard, don’t let me down again.’ The warning was there, I was already the longest serving member of staff, turnover was high and I knew I was just as replaceable.
‘You’ll have it by the close of play today.’
She nodded, ‘That will be all.’
Dismissed I sulked off into my office. Placing the leftovers from last night’s microwave l
asagne in my desktop fridge, the cartoon character Garfield and I had a lot in common, ‘I hate Mondays!’
* * *
The moment I woke I had a horrible feeling in the pit of my stomach, something wasn’t right with Kitty. She wasn’t herself last night; to say I’m worried is an understatement. Thankfully I’d managed to get an appointment with a friend of mine, at a private clinic, for a full once over; blood tests, the works.
Kitty was still offering resistance, thankfully the waiting time had been non-existent. When Andy explained he would have to take some blood for analysis she seemed to show defeat for the first time. Holding her hand as Andy gently punctured her delicate skin with a needle, drawing enough to fill vial upon vial ready to be tested. Rolling her sleeve down her narrow arms she hesitated, ‘T…there is something I would like to check with you.’ Lifting her skirt a little she revealed a number of small circular bruises all over her legs. The albeit fleeting look on Andy’s face told me this was bad news but all credit to him, he quickly tried to reassure her that he would have nothing definitive until the blood tests were back but she was in safe hands. Not many women could avoid falling for the charm of Andy aka Sandy Clarkson, so named because of the mop of straw coloured hair he had carefully styled ever since we were teenagers, that and his bedside manner. Just as we were getting ready to part he pulled me back on the ruse of arranging a night out.