‘Arrogant sods in overalls.’ I stick my tongue out at Tom and he laughs again.
‘Seriously, you’ve worked hard this morning. And it’s been nice having some company. You’re all right.’
‘Such high praise?’ I fold my arms across my chest. ‘Please stop before my ego overinflates.’ You’re all right, indeed. ‘Anyway, I should get going. I said I’d meet Alice for lunch.’
‘I’ll probably see you tonight. At the bonfire.’
‘You’re going?’ Wow, first the quiz and now the bonfire. Tom’s turned into quite the little joiner over the past couple of days. Who’d have thought it?
Tom shrugs and scratches the back of his neck. ‘Carolyn asked me, and I’ve got nothing on, so I thought I may as well. Plus, I hear there are going to be toasted marshmallows, so who am I to say no to that?’
‘Great. I’ll see you tonight then.’ I peel off my gloves and hand them to Tom. ‘Unless… Nah, you probably won’t.’ I shake my head, backing away from the bonfire structure.
‘Probably won’t what?’
‘There are lawn games this afternoon, apparently. It might be fun.’ As long as I’m not paired up with Archie – which I will be if Alice has anything to do with it. If Tom is there, he can provide a useful buffer, like he did with the treasure hunt. Plus, I’d quite like to spend a bit more time with Tom. I’m enjoying his company and it isn’t complicated with him; we have a laugh and although it got a bit deeper than I’d planned earlier, Tom didn’t push me to reveal more about myself than I was willing to. I feel at ease with him in a way I never really did with Edward.
Not that I’m thinking of Tom in a romantic sense. He’s taken. Very much so.
I think I should probably let him get back to work now.
‘It probably isn’t your thing though.’ I shake my head. ‘Never mind. I’ll see you later. Tonight. The bonfire.’ I point to our structure before I turn and dart back to the castle.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
A large crowd had gathered on the field behind the castle for this afternoon’s scheduled activity, but most of the older guests had peeled away when they realised they wouldn’t be partaking in a gentle game of croquet or skittles.
‘There’s rumour of a showing of Casablanca in the parlour,’ Francelia told Piers’ mother as they backed away from the Twister mats set out on the lawn. ‘Sounds much more up my street.’
‘Mine too,’ Henrietta admitted before they turned and practically sprinted back into the castle.
There’s still a good-sized gathering remaining though, and Carolyn instructs us to organise ourselves into groups of five. I immediately glue myself to Alice’s side, in case we end up with another rounders incident and I find myself being picked last again.
‘Why don’t we team up with Archie?’ she asks, as I knew she would.
Because I’d rather chew my own toenails off and eat them for dinner, that’s why. But I keep it zipped and simply force a smile onto my chops as I nod my (reluctant) agreement. Our team of five is completed when Josephine and Thea join us.
‘So.’ Carolyn smiles brightly from her own mat once all the teams have been arranged. ‘Let’s play Twister!’
‘Is it too late to join in?’ Tom, surprisingly, is making his way over. His hair is damp, and he’s changed out of his overalls and into a pair of long cargo shorts and a T-shirt, showing off tanned, toned arms and calves. I avert my gaze, even though Tom has seen me wearing less.
‘No, of course not.’ Carolyn looks around at the mats, biting her lip. ‘All the teams are full, but we can squeeze you into one of them, don’t worry.’
‘Come and join our group.’ Alice beckons him over to our mat. ‘I’ll man the spinner, shall I?’ She’s grabbed it and plonked herself down on the grass before anyone else can volunteer their services.
‘Ooh, sneaky move, Alice.’ I wish I’d have got in there first! ‘Manning the spinner takes the least amount of effort as you don’t have to spaghetti your body into silly, unnatural positions.’
Alice smiles at me with such innocence, I almost believe her.
‘It’s not as much fun, though, is it?’ Tom is already toeing off his trainers in preparation for the game.
‘No, I guess not.’
Tom laughs as I give him a puzzled look. ‘Don’t look so shocked. I’m not the miserable git you think I am.’ He winks. ‘Not always, anyway.’
‘I don’t think you’re a miserable git.’ Not any more, at least. I’ll admit I was wrong to be too hasty in my judgement.
‘Can I go first?’ Thea asks as she steps towards the mat.
‘You’ll have to take your shoes off.’ Alice’s spinner finger is poised, but she nods at Thea’s five-inch heels, which are most unsuitable for a game of Twister. If she doesn’t break an ankle, she’ll undoubtedly pierce the mat.
Thea bends to unbuckle the shoes, slipping them off and placing them at the far end of the mat. ‘These are Michael Kors, so I’ll be keeping an eye on them.’
‘You’ll be keeping an eye on your shoes?’ I blink rapidly at Thea. ‘What do you think is going to happen to them? A dog will come and play fetch with them or something?’
Thea’s eyes slide – briefly – towards Alice, who’s still waiting with the spinner. ‘There’s this rumour going around… I mean, I don’t believe it or anything, but…’ She shrugs before looking down at the grass.
‘You seriously think I’m going to nick your shoes?’ Alice rolls her eyes before giving the spinner an angry flick.
Archie holds his hands up. ‘There was a misunderstanding – years ago – but it’s nothing to worry about. Nobody will be taking your shoes.’
‘They’re last season’s anyway,’ Josephine pipes up, which earns her a glare from both Alice and Thea.
‘Right hand, red.’ Alice’s instruction is a growl, and she doesn’t hang about before flicking the spinner again. This is going to be the speediest game of Twister known to man, and the five of us are soon balancing on the mat in an array of abnormal poses. But the game comes to a halt when there’s a vibration from Archie’s trouser pocket.
‘Sorry.’ Archie straightens from his single-legged downward dog position and pulls his phone out of his pocket, frowning down at the screen. ‘It’s work. I have to take this.’ His thumb is already hovering over the ‘accept call’ button. ‘I’ll be as quick as I can, but you’re better off playing without me.’ He strides away, the phone already at his ear.
‘Can we get on with the game, please?’ Alice gives the spinner another vicious flick. ‘Right foot, yellow.’
We play the game and I somehow end up face-up underneath Tom, whose arse is practically touching Josephine’s face (and don’t we hear all about it? You’d think he’d let one rip with all the fuss she’s making).
‘This isn’t awkward at all,’ Tom says as he looms over me while we wait for the spinner to stop.
‘Nope,’ I manage to squeak. My arms are shaking beneath me, about to give way. Will that mother-fudging spinner hurry the feck up? Alice has been romping through the game, but now she’s decided to mellow out?
‘Left hand,’ Alice calls. Slowly, I swear. ‘Blue.’
Right. How to carry out this manoeuvre without collapsing in a heap? And without causing Tom to collapse on top of me in a double-layered heap?
With superhuman strength, I push my left hand off its yellow circle and somehow twist my body, while keeping my feet on their designated patches, so that I can slam it down on a blue circle, panting with the effort. Tom is still managing to hover above me, but at least we’re no longer face to face, so he can’t see me gurning with the effort to keep my torso from slumping to the ground.
‘I saw this position in a book once,’ Tom whispers, which is clearly cheating as I start to giggle, the movement causing extra strain on my arms.
‘What kind of books have you been reading?’ I can hear Tom panting behind me, and not because he’s remembering the dirty book. He could go at
any moment, taking me down with him.
‘I’m not making myself sound very wholesome here, am I?’ He groans with the strain his arms and legs are under.
‘Do you want to sound wholesome?’
Wholesome = boring, surely.
‘You have a point.’ Tom groans again, louder. He won’t last much longer.
‘Erm, excuse me.’ Alice waves a hand. ‘I said right hand blue.’
I try to shift so that my body isn’t quite so twisted in the middle. I feel like a human pretzel. ‘Which hand was it?’ All my concentration is going on keeping my body off the ground.
‘Right,’ Alice says. ‘Which you’d know if you actually listened and stopped flirting with Tom for two seconds.’
‘We’re not flirting,’ Tom and I say together and, despite everything, I’m most put out he’s quite so rapid in his response. Is it such a monstrous notion that he’d flirt with me? Am I that grotesque?
‘Doesn’t look that way to me.’ Alice attacks the spinner again. She must be annoyed with Thea’s earlier comment if she isn’t jumping up and down with joy at the prospect of me flirting with a man. Which I am not, FYI.
Tom manoeuvres himself to his new position. From the sound of the panting above, he’s shifted away from me slightly.
‘If you’re going to hook up with Tom,’ Thea says from somewhere behind me, ‘does that mean Archie is fair game now?’
‘Tom and I are not going to hook up.’ Thea’s more than welcome to Archie, though.
‘Can we get on with this, please?’ Tom’s groans have morphed into grunts now. I feel his pain – my own arms are on fire. ‘Some of us are practically doing the plank here.’
‘Sorry.’ Alice gives the spinner a more sedate spin. ‘Left foot yellow.’
The game of Twister goes on for far too long. By the time Tom collapses, taking me with him, I’m so relieved it’s ended that I don’t mind losing the game, especially when the next round starts. The three winners of the first round now have to go through it all again to find the ultimate winner, and I’m definitely not up for that.
‘I feel like I’ve put in three hours at the gym.’ Tom flexes his arm. ‘I don’t remember that game being quite so brutal.’
‘When was the last time you played?’ I grab one end of our Twister mat, which is no longer in use, while Tom grabs the other.
‘It was probably the last summer I spent here with the others.’ We meet in the middle with the mat and combine the edges. ‘So we’re going back… ten years? Eleven? It must have been the summer of the infamous necklace snatch. We never met up again after that.’
Leaving Tom holding the edges together, I grab the loose end and bring it to him. ‘I can’t believe anyone would think Alice would do it.’ My eyes find Thea, narrowing as I watch her taking her place at the mat where the next round is about to start. ‘I’d love to prove her innocence, but I don’t know how.’
Tom grabs my mat edges and folds up the remainder by himself. ‘You could get Archie to talk. Admit it was him all along.’
‘Even if it was Archie,’ I say, grabbing the Twister box as Tom presses the mat into it, ‘he’s not going to confess, is he?’
‘True.’ Tom sighs as he adds the spinner and I push the box’s lid on. With the Twister box tucked under his arm, he heads towards the new game, where Thea is battling against best man Teddy and Piers.
‘Do you remember the last time we played?’ Tom asks Alice as we join her on the outskirts of the game. ‘We’d had quite a lot to drink, which helped us block the pain, but I needed to pee halfway through. When Carolyn fell on top of me, I nearly wet myself.’
‘I remember that.’ Alice giggles at the memory. It’s good to see her happy again. ‘I nearly wet myself laughing as you legged it to the loo.’
‘She landed right on my bladder with her stupid, pointy elbow.’
‘Hey!’ Carolyn has overheard and is lifting her arm, trying to get a good look at her elbow. ‘I do not have pointy elbows.’
‘Try ramming one into your bladder,’ Tom says drily. ‘It’ll feel pretty pointy then.’
Carolyn nods, conceding the point, before turning towards the game playing out in front of us. Piers has moved his hand onto a red circle, wobbling slightly at the change, but he’s holding on.
‘Come on, Piers!’ Carolyn claps her hands together and bounces up and down like a cheerleader. Piers, already red-faced, grunts in response. ‘You got this, baby!’
‘Erm, you do know this is only a game of Twister, don’t you?’ I ask Carolyn, because she’s acting like a soccer mom right now.
Carolyn shrugs. ‘I know, but Piers is super-competitive, no matter what the competition is. He doesn’t bake, but if Mary Berry challenged him to a Victoria sponge bake off, he’d give her a run for her money. He hates to lose. At anything.’
‘Doesn’t it drive you nuts?’
Carolyn shrugs. ‘Sometimes, but I think it’s my duty to support him, just like he supports me.’ She winces as Piers has a wobble. ‘Come on, baby. You can do this!’
Thea is the first to succumb, tumbling down to the Twister mat with a thud, leaving just Piers and Teddy to fight it out. It’s groom against best man and neither wants to lose, but Piers has worked out how to play dirty, ensuring Teddy’s body is entwined like spaghetti beneath his. But Teddy, despite the ridiculous name, is no fool and ends up taking the victory when he ‘steals’ the red circle Piers was heading for, causing the super-competitor to stumble and collapse, losing the game. Piers tries to be gracious in defeat, but the amount of swears that tumble out of his mouth when he thinks nobody is within hearing distance spoils the effect somewhat.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Tom stares at me, eyes slightly narrowed as they focus on my own, unnerving in their stillness. I stare right back, but fear I’m coming across as petrified rather than ready to do battle. I think I catch the tiniest movement from the corner of my eye; perhaps it’s Tom’s fingers flexing, or perhaps I’m imagining it. Either way, my eyes flick down to Tom’s right hand and that’s when he senses my concentration is broken. It happens in a flash – one second we’re standing perfectly still, our eyes the only weapons as we psyche each other out (or at least attempt to, in my case), and the next the fat, red missile is arcing through the air, whizzing its way towards me. With a yelp, I leap out of the way, my arms reaching up to shield my face in a raised X-Factor-style symbol. I hear the pop and splash as the water balloon makes contact with the ground, feel a couple of drops of water on my calf, but I’m safe. More than safe, in fact. Still clutching a water balloon of my own, I now have the upper hand. I may be crap at the staring thing, but I’m now the only one left with a weapon.
With a roar, I pull my arm back and fling my water balloon at Tom, aiming for his torso. Even before it’s made contact with either body or ground, I’m pounding my way across the soggy grass to grab a new balloon from the bucket at the edge of the battleground.
Once the Twister tournament was over with, we’d moved on to Giant Jenga before letting off some steam in a game of dodgeball, water balloon-style. Somehow, Tom and I have ended up as the last people standing, pitted against each other on opposing teams. Our teammates, who have all been hit and therefore knocked out of the game, are shouting and cheering from the sidelines. I can’t tell what they’re saying as the noise has merged into one roar of encouragement.
I chance a glance at Tom. The balloon has missed and he’s also grabbing a fresh balloon from his team’s bucket. I step back, treading over the spent balloons, scattered across the grass like brightly coloured confetti thrown a couple of days too early. The ground is soft underfoot, squidgy in patches from the mini explosions of water.
The volume of the sideline roar suddenly increases, and I know, without looking, that a balloon is heading my way. I make a leap for it, throwing my body sideways like a goalie, landing in an inelegant heap on the damp – and now a bit muddy – ground. And if that wasn’t humiliating enough, the
water balloon hits me – with unnecessary force, I think – right on the arse. There’s another surge in the roar from our teammates – but thankfully from victory and loss rather than laughter.
‘Sorry,’ Tom calls as he jogs towards me. He doesn’t look sorry, the git. He’s grinning from ear to bloody ear, but then so am I. I can’t help seeing the funny side. ‘Are you okay?’
‘I’m a bit soggy.’ I grimace at the wet patch I can feel along the length of my right thigh. How many balloons did we get through? A lake’s worth? ‘But I’ll live.’
‘Are you hurt?’ The others have gathered around us, with Tom crouching in front of me, concern etched on his face. He reaches out and helps me to my feet, leading me to one side.
‘I’m fine, honestly,’ I tell him as he looks me over, searching for any obvious damage. ‘I’ve just knocked my wrist a bit. It’s nothing serious.’ I hold out my hand, bending it back and forth to prove my point.
Tom takes my hand gently in his. I must have been exerting myself even more than I thought out there because my heart is hammering in my chest.
‘Are you sure?’
I nod. ‘Absolutely.’
Tom brings my hand to his lips, kissing my wrist softly. My heart rate takes it up a notch. It’s actually starting to feel quite painful. I hope I haven’t done myself an injury.
‘There. All better?’
I nod, not making any effort to remove my hand. ‘All better.’
‘Good.’ Tom is still holding my hand. My heart is still galloping. ‘You were quite the competitor, you know.’
‘I was, wasn’t I?’ I’m amazed by this fact as sports really isn’t my thing. Alice, on the other hand, loves getting physical and she was out quite quickly. Perhaps her sportiness made her an instant target. Being rubbish at physical exercise does have its advantages, it seems, apart from the fact I may be on the brink of a heart attack from the effort I put in.
‘Not that you’d sing your own praises about it or anything.’ Tom grins at me and I laugh.
‘Nah, course not.’
The Wedding that Changed Everything Page 20
