‘Oh. Why’re we still here then?’
Three heads appeared round the pub’s back door: ginger, blonde and black hair with a grin underneath each.
‘Them,’ Si said, jerking his head towards the rest of the quiz team as they came out to join their friends.
‘All right, snuggle bunnies?’ Sonny said. ‘Thought we’d give you a minute before we interrupted.’
‘Are you lot still talking to me then?’ Clarrie asked. ‘I assumed after throwing the tiebreaker I’d be in the naughty corner till next year.’
Gemma shrugged. ‘I think we can overlook it, just this once. Mind you, Sunil’ll need to have a good cry on my shoulder later now you’ve ruined his lifelong ambition.’
‘I’m sure you can find a way to console me,’ her fiancé muttered in her ear.
‘Check out the bling, Midwinter.’ Gemma waggled the fingers of her left hand in the air.
Clarrie smiled. ‘I know, Gem, you already showed me.’
‘Yeah, well. The novelty hasn’t worn off yet.’
‘So is this it then, guys?’ Clarrie asked. ‘Are we grown-ups now?’
‘What you on about?’ Dave said.
‘It just seems like real life’s turned up to bite us on the bum all of a sudden, doesn’t it? You’ve got your new girlfriend and your new flat, Gem and Sonny are getting married, even your dad’s moving on.’ She prodded Si in the ribs. ‘And I’ve got this pillock.’
‘Ow,’ he said. ‘Right, you, dumped.’
‘Okay, that didn’t last long.’ Clarrie giggled as he tilted her head to one side and kissed along her neck.
Sonny pulled a face. ‘Enough with the heavy petting, guys. Get a room, why don’t you?’
‘We were just about to when you bunch of bloody gooseberries turned up,’ Si said, looking up from Clarrie’s neck to glare at him.
‘Well, cockblocking you is in my top three favourite hobbies,’ Sonny said with a shrug. ‘I’m looking forward to enjoying it more often now you’ve got a regular woman on the go.’
‘Can I help?’ Dave asked Sonny. ‘I think we both owe him for all the years he’s been swiping girls from under our noses.’
‘You won’t have time. You’ve got a best man speech to work on, and I want it better than that toast you did earlier.’
‘He he he. I have, haven’t I?’
‘That was an evil chortle, Davy,’ Clarrie said.
‘He he he. Sorry, can’t help it.’ Dave smirked at her. ‘And I don’t know what you’re smiling about, Clar. You’re getting a mention.’
‘Don’t you dare, David Henderson. My mum’ll be there. I’d rather she didn’t find out I lost my virginity to Sonny when I was supposed to be working on an English essay, ta very much.’
‘Fine. You can be referred to as “an unidentified fun sexytime lady”.’
‘All right, that’ll do. Cheers.’
‘Can I be “an unidentified sexytime man”?’ Sonny asked.
‘Course not, you’re the groom,’ Dave said. ‘Humiliating you is the whole point.’
‘Just stay off the blue stuff, you, okay? My great nan’ll be getting it Skyped over to her in India. She’s made it to eighty-nine, I don’t want you finishing her off.’
Dave shrugged. ‘Can’t promise anything. If you don’t like it, ask Si to be your best man.’
Sonny snorted. ‘What, him? He’d be worse. In fact I don’t trust any of you bastards.’
‘Not even me, Sonny?’ Clarrie asked.
‘Especially not you. Tell you what, none of you are invited. Me and Gem are eloping.’
‘Er, do I get a say in this?’ Gemma asked, frowning.
‘No. You’re the woman and have to do what I say.’
‘You’ll be swallowing this ring in a minute, sunshine. With my fist still in it.’
‘I’m the man and have to do what you say.’
‘That’s better.’ Gemma grabbed Sonny’s collar and pulled him to her for a kiss.
‘Not sure us lot’ll ever quite manage to pass for grown-ups, will we?’ Dave said, beaming round at them. ‘Even when we’re seventy-five.’
‘I think you’re right.’ Clarrie paused for a moment. ‘Good.’
‘Still, big year next year, eh?’ Sonny said, extricating his lips from Gemma’s with an effort.
‘You’ve not set a date for the wedding already, have you?’ Si asked.
‘Not that. I meant we’re going to win the League.’
He laughed. ‘God, is that all you think about? Not sure I can get as motivated now I haven’t got a girlfriend to win.’
‘You can teach Daz a lesson for taking Clarrie out though.’
Si looked thoughtful. ‘I could, couldn’t I? Let’s do it.’
Clarrie sighed. ‘Poor old Darren, I’ve well dicked him about. You be nice to him, Si. Buy him a pint or something.’
Si shrugged. ‘He’ll get over it.’ He ran an appreciative palm down her hip. ‘Mind you, it is sort of tough on him, with you being hot stuff and everything. Think I will buy him a pint, if only to have a bit of an old gloat.’
Clarrie leaned in close to his ear. ‘Okay, how do we ditch these guys and make an exit?’ she asked in a stage whisper.
‘Just leave it to me, I’ve got a plan,’ he whispered back.
‘Okay, go on.’
‘Right,’ Si said loudly to the others, clapping his hands together. ‘I’m going back to Clarrie’s to give her the seeing-to of her life. See you losers later.’
‘You know you suck, right?’ Clarrie said.
‘Hard to forget when you tell me so often. Shame really, since I’m quite attached to you.’
‘You mean you love me.’
‘I do, don’t I?’ he said with an affectionate nose-tweak. ‘Come on then. Chips, sex and a cuddle? Not necessarily in that order, mind.’
‘Hey, you had me at chips.’
With a hug for each of their friends, Clarrie and Simon walked away hand in hand to sex, chips and the future. Hopefully with hoverboards.
Acknowledgements
A massive thanks as ever to my amazing and hard-working agent, Laura Longrigg at MBA Literary Agents, for helping me sculpt this book from first draft to novel over many months and being its biggest cheerleader since inception. And to my brilliant editor, Hannah Smith, and the talented team at Aria, who gave my lovely quizsters their perfect home and helped whip them into shape for publication – every one of you has been a delight to work with!
A big shout-out to my fantastic beta readers, Mark Anslow and Rachel Dove, for helping me hone and polish this story at key stages, and to my clever friend Katey Lovell for coming up with the perfect title.
Thank yous to all my supportive writer friends both online and off, especially the Yorkshire romance collective, Rachel Burton, Victoria Cooke, Rachel Dove, Katey Lovell and Rachael Stewart; the Authors on the Edge, Sophie Claire, Jacqui Cooper, Helena Fairfax, Kate Field, Melinda Hammond, Marie Laval, Helen Pollard and Angela Wren; the good folk of the Airedale Writers’ Circle, and the ever-helpful members of The Savvy Authors’ Snug – what a lovely, talented bunch you are!
Family, friends and colleagues have been understanding as always while I wittered on about ‘yet another bloody book’ (you didn’t say it but I could see it in your eyes). Thanks to Firths, Brahams and Anslows everywhere, to long-suffering partner Mark Anslow, pals Rob Fletcher, Amy Smith and Nigel and Lynette Emsley, and all my colleagues at Dalesman Publishing.
Also to all the dedicated and hard-working book bloggers, who give up their time so generously to help authors promote their books – thank you each and every one!
Finally, a raised glass and a ‘cheers’ to every pub in the Bingley area I’ve ever drunk or quizzed in. Nods to The Brewers’ Arms, Wilsden, with its beer garden aviary, and The Sun, Cottingley (both now sadly gone); The New Inn, Wilsden; The Ling Bob, Wilsden; The Station Hotel, Harecroft; The Brown Cow, Bingley; The White Lion, Haworth; The Glen, Shipley; The Malt, Hard
en; Dick Hudson’s, Eldwick, and many, many more besides. Long may your beer flow!
About the Author
Mary Jayne Baker is a romance author from Yorkshire, UK. She is represented by Laura Longrigg at MBA Literary Agents.
Mary Jayne Baker grew up in rural West Yorkshire, right in the heart of Brontë country… and she’s still there. After graduating from Durham University with a degree in English Literature, she dallied with living in cities including London, Nottingham and Cambridge, but eventually came back with her own romantic hero in tow to her beloved Dales, where she first started telling stories about heroines with flaws and the men who love them.
Mary Jayne Baker is a pen name for an international woman of mystery…
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