Page 54 of The Seaside Cocktail Campervan

‘Right then, you just keep still there now, Betty. We’ll try and make you more comfortable.’ Jack figured that an ambulance would be in order; it might well be a break or a bad sprain, but she was stuck in a really tricky place where someone else could well trip over her themselves; they couldn’t just leave her splayed out like that at the entrance to the tent.

‘Mate, can you give me a hand here?’ he said, addressing a sturdy-looking bloke who was looking on. ‘And if someone could fetch a seat from inside and pop it somewhere close by, we’ll lift her carefully onto it.’

‘No problem.’ The burly chap replied.

‘Someone’s likely to trip over you here, Betty,’ Jack explained, ‘so we’ll just get you carefully moved.’ Jack had taken control of the situation. ‘Oh, and can one of you call an ambulance, please?’

‘I’ll do it,’ said the young woman who’d been sipping a Gin Fizz at Jack’s bar.

‘Right, arms tight around our shoulders, Betty,’ said Jack. ‘And, on the count of three …’

The two men made a seat from their joined hands, wrist to wrist, and hoisted her up, just as her husband Clive appeared looking flustered. ‘Oh Betty, I’ve just heard! What on earth have you done, my darling?’

‘A little trip, that was all. So silly of me.’ Betty was pale with shock and no doubt in pain, but she was trying to make light of it.

‘We’ll get you sorted, my love.’ He took one of her hands in his own.

‘The ambulance is on its way,’ said the young woman with her mobile pressed to her ear. ‘Might just be a little while. They’re doing the best they can, but it’s a busy night, apparently. Oh, and they say to keep the foot up, if at all possible.’

Jack went to fetch an ice bucket from the campervan, emptied it and upturned it. It’d make a good foot rest. He also wrapped some ice tightly in a clean tea towel, to apply to try and ease the swelling. Bless her, Betty looked a little shivery now that the shock was settling in.

‘I’ll get your coat, Betty, love.’ Clive bustled off, leaving Jack sitting with the poor woman for a while, gently pressing the ice pack against her ankle.

‘I’ve got a fleece rug in the truck,’ Lucy called out, having seen the episode unfold. ‘Hang on, I’ll fetch it.’ She got it and ran across to them straight away, before Betty’s overcoat had a chance to arrive. ‘There you go. That’ll warm you up.’

Lucy had left her pizza post unattended for a brief while, but she couldn’t look on and not help Betty. She had to admire the way Jack was handling the situation, but it also left her feeling confused. His actions, his instincts to help others, were often kind, yet when it came to the way he treated younger women – with his playboy-style antics – well, he seemed to be a different guy altogether. Why did everything – everyone – have to be so bloody complicated?

With the anniversary party coming to an end, Lucy listened in to the many touching words of thanks from the guests and glimpsed heartfelt hugs amongst them, as taxis and lifts turned up.

‘Hey …’ Jack approached the horsebox, as Lucy was giving her work surfaces a final wipe-down.

‘Hi … you did well back there,’ she said, looking down at her feet. ‘… With the old lady, I mean.’

‘Thanks, the poor thing. Took quite a fall, didn’t she?’

‘Yeah, bless her.’

Lucy looked up and found herself staring at Jack’s slate-blue eyes and his slightly unkempt sandy-blond hair. Her heart started to beat double-time and she felt a dryness in her throat. Why did her body have to betray her? Every time they met, whenever they were near each other, it was like he cast some kind of weird spell over her. But she knew better than that, she’d witnessed his kind of Jack the Lad antics before, and she wouldn’t allow herself to sink. It would be like drowning.

It was just the two of them at the horsebox. They stood like that for a few moments, in silence, a strange awkwardness rippling through the air.

‘Luce, what is it?’ Jack whispered tentatively. He paused for a few seconds. ‘What’s going on with us?’

‘Us? There is no us, Jack,’ she blasted back, frowning.

‘Oh …’ He felt deflated, but persisted, ‘Luce, I really don’t know where I stand with you,’ he continued. ‘One minute you’re giving me a hug … a kiss … which I have to say was rather lovely … but then, like tonight, well, you can hardly manage to speak to me.’

‘You don’t know where you stand? Hah, well, that’s rich coming from you, Jack …’

Lucy took a breath. Was it time to be honest? Tell him what she knew about Becky, about his past? There was no-one around in hearing distance.

‘It’s like you’re two different people. There’s this Mr Nice Guy helping little old ladies and finding lost dogs, but then … well, with women … young women who you might date, for example,’ she took a deep breath, ‘then you don’t seem to care much at all.’

Jack frowned at her. ‘What’s this about, Luce?’

‘My friend, Becky …’

He didn’t show any sign of recognition at the name.