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London, Can You Wait?

Page 70

by Jacquelyn Middleton

“Put? What? Wait…oh, God, NO, don’t tell me!” Alex covered her ears, her eyes scrunched.

“Good, ’cause I’d rather I didn’t have to.” Lucy laughed. “Hey, it’s been a while. I’ve got needs, what can I say?”

“And I’m happy you’re satisfying them!” Alex chuckled as they exited the market. “We’re obviously talking about different things. I saw Harry’s text last night, the ‘Wish you were here’ one? Your phone lit up beside me when you were in the kitchen. You said Harry didn’t invite you to that family dinner, but he did, didn’t he? And you skipped it—for me.”

“Yeah, that’s me, completely selfless.”

“You are.”

“Oh, please! If you want to know the real reason…” Lucy popped the last morsel between her lips. “I…” She mumbled through a mouthful, holding her finger aloft. “…didn’t fancy meeting the parents with a brain-crushing hang.”

“I know you’ve already met them. I read the whole text, Lucy. His dad? Disappointed that he didn’t see you again? And Harry got all mushy. He said he was lucky to be dating a woman who wouldn’t dump her heartbroken BFF for some ‘overpriced crustaceans.’ Whatever that meant.”

“They were having lobster. It’s actually yummy. Who knew? Don’t hate me.”

“Lucy Hardy, going all posh. I’d only hate you if you served nothing but seafood at your wedding.”

“Woah, steady on. Cart, horse!”

“So, you have met his parents. When did that happen?”

“Christmas Eve.”

“What’s that—nine, ten weeks in? Wow. Mark made me wait almost two years.”

“I was shitting myself. Harry has never dated a black girl, and I figured they might have a problem, but his dad—I mean, Budgie—couldn’t have been kinder.”

“Budgie loves everyone,” said Alex.

“His mum was a bit Baltic at first, but we got talking, and she couldn’t apologize enough for the initial chill. She blamed Olivia. I’m the first girl Harry has brought home since, so she’s a bit overprotective, you know? After a few cocktails, she wouldn’t leave me alone! She invited me to tennis, she wants to see my drawings…Lex, she won’t stop texting me now. I might need a restraining order.”

“She knows a good soul when she meets one, can’t fault her for that.” Alex swallowed heavily as they walked along Southwark Street. “You know, I’ll never be able to thank you enough for the past two days. I don’t know what I would have done if you weren’t home.”

“And you’ll never have to find out. We’re family. I’m going nowhere.”

“Right back at ya.”

Lucy smiled. “Hey, want to circle back, get some donuts? My treat.”

“Still not hungry, but thanks.”

“Aw, I hate what he’s done to you.” Rihanna’s “Umbrella” burst from Lucy’s pocket. “Fuck.”

“Is that your boss?”

“Shit. I can’t take this here…traffic noise.” Lucy looked back towards Borough Market. “I’ll let it go to voicemail and call back from the market. It’s quieter there. You okay for a minute?”

“Yep.”

Lucy rushed back up the street.

Alex walked a little farther and gasped, stopping in the middle of the sidewalk. Mark’s face, unsmiling and stern, stared at her from a poster-size bus shelter advertisement. Lairds and Liars was returning to TV for its third season next month. Branded underneath Mark’s stubbly chin, four white letters—LIAR.

Her pocket buzzed. Speak of the devil… Mouse, please check your email. Love you. x

She waited a few seconds. Lucy’s still gone, right? She jabbed her email icon.

From: Mark Keegan