‘You look happy.’
It’s mid-afternoon and I’m standing with Alice on the expanse of lawn between the castle and the woods where the rounders game is going to take place. It’s mostly the under forties who have gathered to play, including the bride- and groom-to-be, their best man and bridesmaids, and Alice and me. The bases, consisting of dining room chairs, have already been set out, and a couple of bats and a ball are waiting in the middle.
‘You cheeky moo.’ I adopt my best scowl. ‘Don’t I always look happy?’
‘No.’ Alice shakes her head. ‘You’re pretty good at faking it, but I haven’t seen you looking this happy for a long time. Not since…’
She hesitates, her mouth screwing up, and I swear to God, if she says since my mum died I’ll be forced to give her a Chinese burn. Of course my mum’s death knocked me for six, but I’m fine now.
‘Since Edward.’ Alice takes a tiny step back, as though I’m going to lash out. ‘If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were falling in…’
I hold a finger up, sharply. ‘Remember the rule? No L word this week.’ Or ever, come to think of it.
Alice rolls her eyes. ‘I wasn’t going to say that. I know you better than that.’ She grins and nudges my foot with hers. ‘I was going to say lust.’
Lust is okay. Lust isn’t love. Far from it. Lust is animalistic. Uncontrollable. And it can also be a lot of fun.
‘Just look at you.’ Alice places the palms of her hands on my cheeks. ‘You have such a dreamy look on your face.’
I bat her hands away. ‘I do not.’
Alice giggles. ‘You honestly do. I take it breakfast with Archie went well?’
I start. I’d completely forgotten about him. He isn’t here, I notice now. Probably still lumbered with Carolyn’s future in-laws.
‘Yes. Pretty well.’ But only because he had to leave to do Francelia’s bidding.
‘Did you spend the rest of the morning and afternoon with him?’
‘No, I couldn’t.’ I’d spent the rest of the afternoon with Tom, before he had to return to the rose garden, which Carolyn has earmarked as a backdrop for a bunch of wedding shots. ‘Francelia needed him. Speaking of which, she asked me to pass on a message about your dinner date tonight.’
Alice groans. ‘I’d totally blanked that from my mind. What was her message? If it’s about the dress code, she can do one. We’re going to Little Heaton’s bistro, not a Michelin-starred restaurant. Jeans and sandals will suffice.’
‘Actually, Francelia can’t make it. She’s too busy wooing Piers’ parents.’
Alice grasps hold of my arm with the ferocity of a woman in the later stages of labour. ‘Are you serious? You’re not messing with me, are you? Because that would be beyond cruel.’
My eyes are starting to water. ‘No, I’m not messing with you. She can’t make it.’ I’m attempting to peel Alice’s digits from my arm, but she increases the pressure.
‘This is wonderful news! The best! Do you know what this means?’
‘No.’ I can’t think straight at the moment, what with the pain and fear of the blood flow being cut off from my arm. I try to wrestle free. ‘What does it mean?’
‘It means…’ Alice pauses for effect and – thankfully – releases my arm so she can clap her hands together. ‘You can use the meal voucher.’
‘Okay.’ It’s the least she can do after almost causing me actual damage. ‘That’d be great, actually. We haven’t had dinner – just the two of us – for ages. Not unless you count a microwaved lasagne on our laps while we catch up on Love Island.’
‘That isn’t what I meant. I won’t be coming with you.’ She points behind me. ‘Archie will. It can be your first official date!’
I turn and, sure enough, there he is, jogging towards us wearing a pair of shiny, white jogging bottoms and a white polo shirt. He has a lemon-coloured cable-knit jumper resting over his back, its sleeves slung over his shoulders and knotted at the front.
There’s no way I’m going on an actual date with this dweeb.
‘I can’t take the voucher off you. That’s your prize. You won it fair and square.’
‘I insist.’ Alice beams at me. ‘I’ll enjoy it far more this way.’
It’s a pity I won’t.
‘So sorry I’m late.’ Archie’s slightly out of puff from the jog when he reaches us. ‘I got caught up with a work call. It seems they can’t cope without me.’
Alice envelops her step-cousin in a hug. ‘Never mind work. I have wonderful news!’
‘Really?’ Archie pulls away from the hug, but keeps his arm slung around Alice’s shoulders. ‘Sounds intriguing. What is it?’
‘How would you like to take Emily to dinner tonight?’
‘Obviously, I would love that.’ Archie’s arm slips from Alice’s shoulders. ‘But we have the quiz. I’m not sure Carolyn would forgive us if we missed it.’
‘That isn’t a problem.’
Isn’t it? What a shame.
‘The quiz doesn’t start until nine. You can have dinner – on Francelia and I – and be back in plenty of time for the quiz.’
‘Well, then.’ Archie turns to me, rubbing his hands together. ‘What do you say? Romantic dinner for two?’
I don’t feel as though I have a choice. I have to say yes to keep up the charade. Besides, if it isn’t Archie joining me for dinner, I’m sure it’d be some other ‘perfect bachelor’ in his place.
‘I’d love to have dinner with you.’
I think I manage to smile without it appearing forced.
‘Are we all ready, guys?’ Carolyn is striding towards the centre of the rounders pitch. ‘The team captains have been chosen – thanks Piers and Archie for volunteering.’ She beams at her fiancé and step-cousin. ‘Now all we have to do is pick the teams.’
‘Actually,’ I say as the team captains take their places at centre stage while the rest of us gather in a hopeful little group before them, ‘we’re not quite ready. Tom isn’t here.’
‘No.’ Carolyn’s shoulders slump. ‘He isn’t. But then he said he couldn’t promise anything.’
I shake my head. ‘No, I spoke to him this afternoon. He said he’s going to play.’
‘Really?’ Carolyn’s beam is back.
‘Yes, really?’ Alice quirks an eyebrow at me. She leans in to whisper, ‘Since when do you and Tom hang out?’
I roll my eyes. ‘We weren’t hanging out. We just bumped into each other.’ And shared a sandwich and a flask of tea. ‘Don’t be getting any silly ideas. He’s engaged, remember, and about to become a dad.’ I look down at my trainers and realise one of the laces has come loose.
‘And you’re getting lusty for Archie.’
I crouch down to retie my lace. ‘Yep.’ It’s the best I can manage.
‘Shall we start picking the teams, and then Tom can join in when he gets here?’ Piers asks. He’s so impatient for the game to begin, he’s started to pace the lawn.
‘No need.’ Carolyn thrusts a finger out, practically buzzing with contained excitement. ‘He’s on his way.’
Tom is ambling towards us with the enthusiasm of somebody being led to the gallows. Still, he’s here. That’s the main thing. I beckon him over, and he stands between Alice and me while Carolyn tosses a coin to decide which captain will be the first to pick a teammate. I feel a small tug of dread in my stomach as I’m taken back to my schooldays. Not being in the slightest bit sporty, the choosing of teams during PE was always horrific. Pulling shoulders back and looking Archie in the eye, I hope to give off an air of confidence, as though I’m not expecting to be picked last as usual.
‘Alice,’ Archie says, indicating the space next to him. ‘You were always the best at whacking the ball.’
We all turn to Piers as he makes his first selection. I don’t know about anybody else, but I’m fully expecting him to pick Carolyn, but it’s his teddy bear best man he calls to join him.
I give my ponytail a casual flick as we turn to Archie.
He doesn’t pick me.
Surprise, surprise.
‘Tom, just like old times.’ Archie pats him on the back as he joins the team.
Piers picks Carolyn this time, though I fear he’s in trouble for the delay as she gives him the stink eye as she stands next to Teddy.
‘Josie,’ Archie calls next.
‘It’s Josephine,’ the bridesmaid says as she sashays towards him.
‘Sorry,’ Archie says, but it’s swallowed by Piers’ next choice of the philandering Ezra. If he’s recognised me, he hasn’t let on. His pregnant wife is nowhere to be seen.
Archie picks art fan Mr Cravat (real name Bertram – or Bertie) and when Piers chooses bridesmaid Thea, it leaves Archie with just the choice of me and a bloke who’s already sweating.
The bastard picks the sweaty dude.
I’m picked last. Again.
‘Come and join the winning team, Emily,’ Piers calls as he beckons me over. I have little choice. And neither does the team. I’m there by default.
This isn’t humiliating at all.
Piers’ team is up to bat first, so we line up while Archie’s team spreads out to field. I’m determined to teach Archie a lesson by being the most amazing rounders player Durban Castle has ever seen. I’ve psyched myself up so much, I’m brimming with confidence as I swagger towards the batting square.
‘I’d have picked you first,’ Tom says from his position as backstop as I hold the bat out. Mr Cravat bowls the ball, which I miss by a country mile. ‘Or maybe not.’
I turn to glare at Tom, but my teammates are yelling at me to run. I just about make it to first base before the ball. I don’t know whether I should be happy I’m still in the game or not. Thea was caught out on her first bat, so she now has the luxury of sunbathing.
Piers is up to bat next, and he manages to slog the ball so far away, it’s pretty much inevitable that he’ll score a rounder. Which means I’m forced to haul my arse round to the fourth base, with Piers on my tail, yelling his encouragement the whole way (if screeching for me to ‘move it, Emily!’ in a rather aggressive manner for a friendly game of rounders counts as encouragement). We both somehow make it past fourth base before the ball is fielded, and the team whoop and cheer and hug Piers as though he’s scored the winning goal in the World Cup.
‘Well done, Emily.’ Tom has moved away from his backstop position, and he’s holding up his hand for a high-five. I decide to forgive him for his earlier teasing as palm meets palm. After that run, I wouldn’t have the energy to hold a grudge even if I wanted to.