Excess Baggage
Laura Barnard
Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Playlist
Want more?
Acknowledgments
Also by Laura Barnard
Copyright © 2017 Laura Barnard.
First Edition
The author has asserted their moral right under the
Copyright, Designs and Patents Act, 1988, to be identified
as the author of this work.
All Rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, copied, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, without the prior written consent of the copyright holder, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library.
This book is dedicated to my mum, Lorraine. I appreciate your help and encouragement, even if I don’t say it every day. x
Prologue
2005
I can’t believe the week is over. It’s easily been the best week of my life. I feel terrible saying that, considering it’s all because of a boy. Just some stupid boy. Some stupid boy with floppy hair, bronzed skin and the most adorable freckles. I miss him already. How is that even possible?
I can tell he’s going to miss me too because last night our stolen kisses were that much more urgent. Not that we talked about it. That would be having to admit we like each other and honestly, I don’t know if he really does or if he’s just playing me. I mean, why would a gorgeous specimen like him be interested in plain, little, flat chested me?
I’ve helped Dad load the last bits into our car boot and I still haven’t seen Jack, even though his dad’s been loading his car which is right next to ours. Now my dad’s shaking his dad’s hand. Shit, this is it. We’re going.
Mum’s locking up the caravan. If I go without seeing him it’s possible I’ll cry the whole way home. Just then his mum appears, him following behind with his brother. Everyone starts saying loud goodbyes, sharing hugs. Jack and I stare at each other awkwardly. I look at the adults, super aware that they’ll notice if we show any emotion towards each other and rib us the whole way home.
‘So... I’ll see you then,’ I say with a shy smile.
‘Yeah,’ he smiles. ‘I’ll see you.’ He smiles sadly before turning to face towards our parents.
I’m gutted. He’s just dismissed me like that? After all this time.
That's when I feel it. His index finger curls around mine. It’s so subtle no one else would notice, but it warms my heart through. I squeeze it back.
‘Come on kids. Time to hit the road.’
And just like that he was gone.
Chapter One
Thursday
Erica
‘You are such a slut,’ I say to Brooke, jokingly punching her on the shoulder. ‘Stop looking at every guy in here like they’re a piece of meat you want medium rare.’
Brooke’s always on the hunt. Ten days on Luna Island, in a bikini which showed off her bodacious body, was only going to add fuel to the fire.
She rolls her eyes. ‘Will you stop looking for their deep meaningful personalities? I’ve told you, all men are twats. That’s why you have to find the best parts, if you know what I mean.’ She waggles her eyebrows suggestively.
‘Trust me. There’s a woman three floors up that knows what you mean.’
I’m no prude, but Brooke always seems to be able to make me blush in public. You’d think five years of sharing a flat with her would’ve got me used to her, but I’m always checking to see if people can hear us.
Our friend Molly insisted we went on this last minute holiday to give us a much needed break in the sun. My mum’s been having chemo for breast cancer and when I go back we’re celebrating her last round.
‘Phwoar,’ she purrs, gazing towards reception. ‘It seems we’re in luck. Some boy toys just arrived.’
I roll my eyes but follow her gaze to see a group of lads about our age walking in with suitcases. They’re the only people we’ve seen our age so far. Everyone else seems to be in their sixties plus. We were beginning to think this place was only advertised in old people’s homes.
That’s when I spot him. All chocolate brown hair, and hazel eyes. I freeze; my heart dropping out of my knickers, as the room whirls around me. My head feels like it’s floating to the ceiling. It can't be…right? But the feelings bubbling up in my chest and the longing between my legs tell me a different story.
It’s Jack.
Fuck.
I duck to the floor as if I’ve heard a gunshot. I can't see him. He cannot see me like this. I’m only in a bikini with a see-through kaftan thrown over the top. My hair is gathered in a messy bun on the top of my head and my face is completely free of make-up. This cannot be happening.
‘Jesus, Erica. What the fuck is wrong?’ Brooke whispers, trying to drag me back to standing. It’s pretty rare that I embarrass her.
‘That’s…that’s…’ My voice is high pitched and wobbly. I’m really struggling to hold it together right now. Please, God, say this is a nightmare.
‘Jesus, spit it out!’ she snaps, her ice blue eyes wide in disbelief.
‘That’s…Jack,’ I manage eventually, my tongue shaking so much it’s hard to talk.
Her eyes narrow on me. ‘Jack who?’
She’s seriously dumb.
‘Jack! The caravan-park-teenage-romance-first-fucking-sexual-experience-Jack!’
Jeez, just saying it out loud brings back a flood of memories I’ve desperately tried to forget.
‘That Jack?’ she screeches, so loud it echoes off the marble walls. Her head turns towards the door and she gulps. This can't be good.
‘Did…you just call me?’ a deep manly voice asks from nearby.
Just hearing his voice again makes me quiver. I have to get out of here. Hide somewhere. I crawl under a table and prise my hands together praying for death. Come on God: I recycle, I floss my teeth, I’m a good bloody person, dammit!
‘Err…’ Well, this is a first. Brooke’s never lost for words.
A couple come to sit on the table and their legs kick me, attacking my ribs from both sides. I yelp, smashing my head on the top of the table.
‘Is that…’ his voice comes again, closer now.
Oh my fuckety fuck. I scrunch my eyes shut, hoping and praying this isn’t really happening. This could be a nightmare, right? This could just be the worst nightmare ever. Something this horrendous doesn’t happen in real life...does it?
When I pry one eye open I see Jack’s gloriously beautiful face leaning down, peering at me hiding under the table, his mouth wide open, eyes nearly popping out of his skull.
My heart stops as I take him in. He’s still got the same brown messy hair that’s just that bit too long and falls over his forehead, almost into his eyes. And those eyes. The ey
es from my dreams. They’re neither hazel nor green, just a strange colour in between.
‘Erica?’ he gasps from his beautiful plump, pink lips that I immediately want to jump up and bite.
‘Jack!’ I exclaim, smashing my head on the table again. Ouch. Way to play it cool Erica.
He grimaces, as if noticing how much that must have hurt, before offering his hand. His large, used to touch me all over, hand. I look at it with trepidation. He’s only offering to help you up, you bumbling idiot. I take it, feeling the same burn his touch always left on my skin, and let him lift me to standing.
My God, how is it fair that he got hotter? I’ve always kind of hoped that he was one of those gorgeous teenagers that peaked early and was now obese and ugly, possibly bald. But this level of good looking, well it’s just not fair at all.
‘What are you doing here?’ he asks, putting his hand through his hair and messing it up further. Holy moly, I want to do that.
I stare back at him dumbly, mesmerised by the beauty of his face. How has he not been scouted by a model agency by now? Maybe he has. Maybe he’s shooting here on location.
‘Your mate’s not the sharpest pencil in the case, is he?’ Brooke chuckles.
I look up to see three of his friends looking between us both, puzzled. I take a discreet deep breath, trying to pull myself together.
‘Oh…hi,’ I mumble, awkwardly waving. I am such a geek.
For heaven’s sake, why couldn’t I be wearing make-up right now? Just a bit of blusher, maybe a slick of concealer to cover the dark circles under my eyes from our long flight. I must look horrendous. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not completely uggers, but always suffer from redness on my chin regardless of whether I’m having a breakout or not.
I force myself to concentrate and take in their names as he introduces them.
‘This is Nicholas.’
Fucking yummy. He’s tall and slim but with lean tattooed biceps that I’m sure could throw you across the room. In fact, his arms are completely covered in them all the way down to his fingers. I wonder if he has more underneath his basic black t-shirt.
He’s got light brown hair which is waxed into a stylish quiff. It makes me almost giggle that his whole brooding, moody look is clearly supposed to show how unbothered he is. But that hair is a different story. He must have spent ages doing that quiff.
‘Tom.’
Tom is what I’d call typical, standard good looking: all big broad shoulders, blonde short hair and piercing green eyes. He smiles, appearing friendly, if not a little flirty. I can already see him eyeing up Brooke. She’s basically writing her telephone number with her tongue.
‘And you know Charlie.’
Wow, this is Charlie? His lovely and hilarious best friend. I remember him from all those years ago. He’s put on some weight since then. It doesn’t help that he’s shorter than everybody at about five eleven. He’s got a few double chins and a pot belly, but he’s still well put together in a polo shirt, shorts, and converse.
‘This is Erica,’ he says to them with a shy smile, a hint of a blush on his cheeks.
They all nod, but recognition washes over Nicholas and Charlie’s faces.
‘No way! How are you, Erica?’ Charlie asks, stepping forward to dramatically bring me into a bear hug, swaying me from side to side. ‘You’re looking even more beautiful than your teenage self.’
‘Thanks,’ I giggle. I always loved him. ‘My boobs finally came in,’ I grin jokingly.
He nods, looking over them appreciatively. ‘You’re telling me!’ he cries in mock shock, eyes widening to double the size.
Brooke clears her throat, clearly feeling left out.
‘Oh, and this is Brooke.’
‘Hi guys,’ she smiles, faking a coy look as she pulls her long black hair over one shoulder and pretends she needs to adjust the straps on her string bikini.
Their eyes immediately go to her boobs. Not her first rodeo.
I smile shyly back at Jack. He holds the back of his neck, his head tilted down, but his eyes watch me. He seems mildly amused by the situation. I do my best to smile back coyly, but can’t help but feel awkward.
He looks at me a bit strange, a wrinkle forming between his eyebrows. He must think I’m a right dog looking like this. Just how you want to bump into your ex boyfriend, not.
I have no idea how much time has passed, but suddenly Brooke is pulling me away, shouting back to them ‘see you later.’
I shake my head, trying to snap myself out of my daydream. ‘See them later?’ I repeat, blinking, still dazed.
‘Yes, you smitten kitten,’ she cackles. ‘We’re meeting them later at the bar. Give us a chance to show ourselves off all dressed up.’
I beam widely. I still can’t believe this is happening. My Jack. Here. With me.
She grimaces. ‘Oh babe, sorry but you’ve got a bit of broccoli in your tooth from lunch.’
Chapter Two
Jack
I can’t believe she’s here. My Erica. And damn, did she get hot! Not that she wasn’t before, but now she’s show-stoppingly beautiful. Her friend Brooke’s not bad either.
‘So, who was that?’ Tom asks as we walk towards our rooms.
‘Sort of a long story,’ I say on a sigh.
‘So, she’s an ex, right?’ he presses, face lit up in amusement. He’s always been a nosy bastard.
‘Yeah, an ex,’ I nod with a shrug.
Charlie gives me a knowing smile.
‘Right,’ Tom nods. ‘So, is she fair game?’
Is he fucking joking? I turn to glare at him, my jaw clenched.
‘Are you fucking kidding me?’
He chuckles, putting his palms up in surrender. ‘Hey man, just because she’s an ex doesn’t automatically mean she’s yours. Are you still into her or something?’
I’ve never not been into her. I just fucked it up because I was a proud twat back then.
‘Or something,’ I snap, my muscles feeling tight. ‘Just stay the hell away from her, okay. The last thing she needs is Tom “Man Whore” Maddens getting all up in her face.’
‘Yeah, leave it out Tom,’ Charlie warns, attempting to open our door with a key card. He turns to me with a secretive smile. ‘She’s the one that got away.’
My nostrils flare. ‘Shut-up,’ I snap, attempting to cover it up by giving him a playful shove. Even though he’s right.
‘She’s the one you told me about once,’ Nicholas says with a knowing nod. Shit, I forgot about that. Too much tequila at Barry’s 30th. ‘What are the odds of her staying in the same resort?’
‘Pretty slim,’ I admit with a huge grin. I hope she’s here for the whole week too. It would suck if she’s leaving tomorrow or something.
‘Some would say its fate,’ Charlie grins, finally opening our door.
God, he’s a soppy bastard. Always has been.
‘Ooh, Jack’s in L-O-V-E,’ Tom sings playfully, shoving me into my room.
I push him back and slam our door behind him. I could do without him trying to wind me up right now.
‘It’s good to see her, though, right?’ Charlie asks, bouncing excitedly from foot to foot. ‘I saw your face when you realised it was her. You’re still into her.’
I sigh, rubbing my face with my hands. ‘I was never truly out.’
Erica
I can’t believe that’s him. My Jack. What are the chances that he’d be on the same holiday as me? It must be like one in a million. All our memories are invading my mind, making me feel as giddy as a teenager.
I still remember the very first time I saw him. My parents had dragged me and my brother to a caravan park in the summer holidays. I was so fed up that I couldn’t stay back with my friends or at least go on a cool holiday abroad. We were having breakfast in the clubhouse when I looked around the red wallpapered room, crammed with far too much mahogany furniture. That’s when I noticed him.
At first I was shocked there was anyone else there around my age.
At fifteen, I wasn’t the normal clientele of eight year olds. He was rolling his eyes at something his mum had said. He was stunning.
He had the most beautiful golden skin, with a smattering of freckles over his nose and under his eyes. His dark brown hair fell in curtains with half grown out sun-in blond hair. For some reason, it didn’t stop me fancying him.
He looked up and caught me gawking at him. I was so embarrassed, quickly looking down, pretending to scan the menu. When I chanced a quick glance up I found him smiling at me. Not an overly flirtatious smile. A shy, unassuming smile. And just like that I knew my holiday had just become a whole lot more interesting.
Brooke rushes me back over to the girls who are lounging around the pool. Brooke’s telling Molly and Alice all about it. She’s trying to tell Evelyn too, but she’s too busy staring at me, her eyes wide as if to say really?
The annoying thing with Evelyn is that she can say so much more with her dark brown eyes than if she were to talk. I know exactly what her accusing stare is saying.
Don’t tell me we’re gonna go through this again. That’s what they’re asking, prying into my soul.
‘What about Karl?’ Molly asks me with a grimace.
Ah, yes. The boyfriend back home that I’ve been trying to dump for the last two months.
‘What about him?’ Brooke snorts. ‘I’ve been telling her to dump that dweeb for ages.’
I roll my eyes. ‘Brooke, you know that’s not fair. He’s really been there for me since Mum got diagnosed.’
I know I wouldn’t still be with Karl if my Mum hadn’t been diagnosed with breast cancer after our second date. It kind of fast-forwarded our relationship. I needed someone to lean on and he was there for me. He’d been absolutely brilliant, there when I needed him, but not crowding me. Exactly how I liked it.
So then why have I been thinking about finishing it with him the last few months? Because he’s boring. Bloody hell, that’s an awful thing to think. I’m such an ungrateful cow. But…well, the feelings aren’t there.
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