Page 20 of Mistletoe and Mulled Wine at the Christmas Campervan

Lucy was thinking how pretty it all looked when out strolled a young couple arm-in-arm, followed soon afterwards by a man seemingly on his own. Oh, bloody hell … there was something awfully familiar about that dark cropped hair, a certain squareness of his neck and jawline. He was dressed in a smart navy suit that, oh yes, she’d seen him wear before at that works Christmas party, the one just before …

A gaggle of guests brushed past him, then he was stood alone. Hovering halfway down the steps and seemingly perusing the grounds. Lucy felt distinctly uncomfortable, the hairs rising on the back of her neck, until the smell of burning caught her nostrils and her attention. Shit, she’d only gone and burnt the first lot of pizzas. What an idiot! She couldn’t afford to waste her ingredients like that.

Bugger it. She then burnt her arm trying to use the paddle to lift the bases out quickly, but it was already too late. The first two pizzas were charred and inedible; they’d have to be binned before anyone noticed. So much for showcasing her fabulous food and creating a good reputation.

‘Ah, you okay there, Luce?’ Abby’s head bobbed out from the horsebox’s hatch.

‘Er, all fine, no worries. Just a small technical hitch.’

An effin’ ex-boyfriend of a technical hitch, in fact.

What the hell was Liam doing here?! She wondered how he even knew the bride and groom. She certainly hadn’t recognised them when they’d met to discuss the booking several weeks ago.

Lucy felt herself prickle. There was a time when she and Liam had still been talking about their own bloody wedding … the one, of course, that was never going to happen. Oh Christ, he was coming her way … and she had nowhere to hide, other than facing the blast of the oven. Might he already know about her new business venture, her pizza van? It was all over Facebook, after all. Did he know she’d be there? She felt herself flush with heat, and it certainly wasn’t just from the log flames.

From the corner of her eye, she traced her ex’s steps … dammit, he was coming right towards her. His eye then caught hers, and she was trapped like a rabbit in headlights.

‘Hey, Lucy?’ Despite the greeting, Liam’s smile looked tight.

‘Hi,’ she echoed feebly.

All those memories: the good times, the bad times, the getting to know yous, the breaking up … they all started to fizz back to the surface. She stood there, frozen.

‘Nice to see you, Luce.’ His smile broadened, but there was something disconcertingly cynical in his tone.

Well, it didn’t seem very nice to her. It didn’t seem very nice at all. Movie-clip images struck her of a mutual friend sharing the devastating news of his fling – ‘if it was me, I’d want to know …’, the hammering noise of the ‘For Sale’ sign being banged up outside their new-build/new-hopes house, like the final nails in the coffin of their engagement and their future together.

Words were lost to her initially – only ‘wanker’, ‘tosspot’ and ‘dickhead’ coming to her. She managed, just, to keep them in. Reminding herself that she was here in a working capacity, and that it was someone’s special wedding, after all. The last thing she wanted to do was to cause a scene.

‘Well … I didn’t expect to see you here,’ was all she could manage.

‘Yeah, well I know the groom, Ben. He works with me at Arnott & Co.’ That was the solicitor’s where Liam practised, specialising in property transactions. ‘Joined us six months ago. Nice chap.’

‘Ah, I see.’ Facing him now, she noticed Liam looked a little older; a few more crinkles around his eyes, a smattering of early grey threads at his temples. He still looked good, though; he was always very presentable. And suddenly she was aware of how hot and sweaty she was, no doubt all pink in the face and flustered, stood there in her not-so-glamorous yet practical All Fired Up work outfit.

‘So, how are you, Luce?’ It was hard to fathom his tone as he chatted. Was he just making polite conversation? Did he really care? ‘And hey, look at all this.’ He gestured towards the horsebox. ‘Quite some turnaround for you.’

Was his interest genuine? Did it have a hint of his old put-you-down sarcasm?

‘Yeah well, I picked myself up and moved on.’ Her voice came out a little stilted at first. But she soon followed up with, ‘Business is going great. Yeah, really good. Booming, in fact. I might be expanding, actually … Yeah, there could be a whole chain of All Fired Ups about soon.’ Blimey, where had that all come from? He’d probably see on social media that nothing at all of the sort was happening. But there was no way she was going to let him think that life was anything other than fan-bloody-tastic without him. Oh yes, the protective wall was going up – it was like she’d just fitted those bloody thick industrial-style oven gloves right around her heart.

‘Well then, I’m a bit busy just now. Better get on,’ Lucy continued, lifting her wooden paddle, ready to load another batch of pizzas in. Either that or to smack him over the head with it. Hmm, that might be very satisfying indeed.

‘Right, well, I’ll catch you later then, Luce … I’m just going to find a couple of work colleagues,’ he added, which seemed to be a hint that he wasn’t here with a partner or girlfriend. But perhaps she was just being over-sensitive.

Her hands were shaking a little on the paddle. She tried to steady them, annoyed at herself for feeling so ruffled by it all. But seeing Liam out of the blue like this, it brought back all of the emotional rollercoaster she’d experienced at the end of their relationship.

He stared right at her then, an intensity in his dark grey-green eyes. The ones she used to gaze into. The ones she had thought she could trust. ‘I’ve missed you.’ And his words floated into the air, like weird nostalgic verbal confetti.

Chapter Ten

Who the hell was that guy?

Jack had clocked that the tall stocky bloke in his designer suit had been staring across at Lucy for ages, even after having walked away from the pizza stand.

Something about the chap struck Jack as odd; he felt uneasy and he wasn’t quite sure why. And when he’d started talking, she’d looked … what? Perturbed? Uncomfortable? In fact, Jack realised, that guy hadn’t even taken a slice of bloody pizza away with him, had he?

Ah well, he had enough on at the bar with his guests waiting for ‘Pimp the Prosecco’ top-ups, he just needed to crack on … he was probably making something out of nothing. It was no doubt some harmless chit chat – perhaps the guy having a little too much beer on board. It was a wedding do, after all. And, Lucy had shown in the past that she was more than capable of taking care of herself in the odd tricky situation with customers, but still … his eyes drifted back. Okay, good, the coast was clear, as the guy was now busy talking to another lad. Jack allowed himself to relax somewhat.