Beneath these Stars (Lucy Mitchell Book 2)

by Hannah Ellis

  A tall, skinny woman walked out of a door at the back of a room. Her red hair was scraped messily into a knot on top of her head and her nose was bony and too big for her face, but her green eyes sparkled and her face lit up when she spotted Mike.

  “Finally!” she said jovially. “It’s been far too long.” She glanced at me before returning her attention to Mike, enveloping him in a hug.

  “This is my friend, Lucy,” Mike said when she finally released him. “Lucy, this is Melody.”

  “Hi!” we said, and she gave me a warm smile.

  “Elliot!” She turned to a guy in white who was peering through a hatch at the back of the room. “This is my long-lost cousin, Mike. That’s my chef, Elliot.” He gave us a toothy grin and a quick wave before he disappeared again.

  “The place looks good,” Mike said.

  “Thanks. I can’t believe you’re here. How long have I been nagging you now?”

  “It’s not that long since I was last here,” he said cheerfully. “Maybe a year or two.”

  “Or three!” She laughed and turned to me. “It’s always me who has to venture out to the middle of nowhere to visit him in his back-of-beyond pub!”

  “Okay!” Mike held up his hands. “I’m here now! Stop complaining and feed us, will you?”

  “Go on, then.” She slapped his arm good-naturedly. “Inside or out?”

  He looked at me and raised his eyebrows. “Out?”

  I nodded. “Sounds good.”

  We followed Melody to a little round table and she pulled a lighter out of her apron to light the candle in the middle of the white tablecloth, even though it was still bright outside.

  We ordered red wine and Melody left us with the menu.

  “Don’t choose a salad,” Mike said, scanning the menu.

  I looked at him, my eyes wide. “You’re going to tell me what I can eat?”

  “No, just what you shouldn’t eat! You’re starting to look like someone who only eats salads.” He lifted his eyes from the menu and I was surprised to find that his teasing look had been replaced by something else. Concern, maybe?

  “I was looking at the steak, actually!” I said.

  “Good.” He snapped his menu shut. “Me too!”

  It was fun to sit outside, watching the shoppers wandering in and out of the shops. The tinkling of the piano could be heard now and then, when quiet settled around us. The aroma from the candle shop wafted past.

  “Who’s looking after the pub?” I asked as we waited for our food.

  “James,” he told me. “He helps out now and again. You’ve seen him on quiz nights – he always helps me out then.”

  I nodded. I knew all the villagers by sight, but I wasn’t very good at names. I hadn’t had time to get to know people. I’d expected village life to be quiet. It was for others, I guess, but my time living in the village had been far from peaceful.

  “Where did you grow up?” I asked Mike.

  “Princess Road.”

  “Oh, so you really were a city kid! Right in the heart of things.”

  “Well, the other end of Princess Road, the quiet end. But yeah, the city was my playground.”

  “What did you do before you took over the pub?”

  He squinted, scratching his forehead. “Where should I start?” he said with a smile. “I’ve done a lot of jobs.”

  He kept me amused until our food arrived, running through his colourful résumé and telling anecdotes about all his jobs. He’d worked as everything from a milkman to a baker, to jobs in call centres and pet shops.

  “A real-life jack-of-all-trades,” I teased him as Melody put our food in front of us.

  “No one in the world has had as many jobs as our Mike,” Melody told me. “He was good at them all, though; he always managed to leave with glowing references.”

  Mike smiled, a hint of bashfulness in his eyes as he put his napkin in his lap and reached for his cutlery. Melody patted my shoulder and left us to eat in a companionable silence.

  Afterwards, Melody wouldn’t let us pay, insisting she wanted to treat her cousin and didn’t want to have to worry about all the freebies she got when she visited the pub. She laughed, promising to drink the place dry on her next visit. She kissed my cheek when we said goodbye. I wobbled slightly on the rough stones as we set off back down the road.

  “That’s the trouble with cobbled streets.” I grinned at Mike. “Very uneven and difficult to walk on!”

  “How are you getting home?” he asked.

  “Don’t worry, I’m not going to drive,” I said. “I can leave my car in the car park and pick it up tomorrow.” It would cost me a fortune, but never mind. The wine had gone down so easily that I’d forgotten all about the car until it was time to leave. I’d only had two glasses of wine, but I could feel it buzzing through my system. “I’ll hop on the bus.”

  “I can drive you,” he offered.

  We walked on in silence, the setting sun leaving a chill in the air. Mike pushed his hands into his pockets and I rubbed my arms.

  “You didn’t ask about Adam,” I commented as I settled into the passenger seat of Mike’s car.

  “Was I supposed to?” he asked, starting the engine.

  “No. It’s just that everyone does. Most of my conversations revolve around Adam and the girls.”

  “Did you want to talk about them?” he asked.

  “No,” I mused, clicking my seatbelt into place. “It was nice to talk about something else for a change.”

  “Good. Thanks for saving me from eating alone,” he said.

  “You’re welcome. I enjoyed it. Sorry your date didn’t work out.”

  “You win some, you lose some. You’ll have to direct me,” he said, looking at the road ahead.

  “Turn right at the traffic lights and keep going for a while,” I told him. Traffic was light and I gazed out of the window, watching the bustle of life that filled the city streets. “I don’t really feel like going home yet,” I told Mike. “Do you want to go for another drink?”

  “I can’t,” he said, slowing at another set of traffic lights. “I’ve got to drive home.”

  Matt and Chrissie had gone away for the weekend. The thought of going back to their house to sit and watch TV alone didn’t appeal to me at all, and I definitely didn’t want to go to bed yet. The night was still young. Then the thought of going to Dylan’s pub entered my mind, and I couldn’t shake it.

  When the lights turned green, I directed Mike to turn left. Which was not the way home.

  Chapter 44

  “You’re such a gentleman,” I said to Mike as we walked the short distance from the car to the pub. “You really don’t have to chaperone me, though. I know my way around here.”

  I’d asked him to drop me off at Dylan’s pub, but he said he’d come in for a Coke and make sure I was okay.

  “I know. I just think you might be a bit tipsy, that’s all.”

  “I only had two glasses of wine,” I told him.

  “Three! And you’re wobbling.”

  “Am not,” I said, bumping shoulders with him and laughing.

  Mike pulled the door open and the noise and heat of the pub hit us. It was busy: all the tables were occupied and there were a lot of people standing around in groups, cradling their drinks and talking loudly. I drank in the atmosphere as I walked over to the bar. It was just what I needed: I wanted to be out having fun, not sitting at home.

  “Hi!” I had to shout over the din.

  Dylan looked over from where he was busy pulling pints and gave me a warm smile. He finished serving and met me at the end of the bar for a hug.

  Mike reached out and shook Dylan’s hand when I introduced them.

  “Mike has a pub too,” I said.

  “And you get a night off?” Dylan asked. “How do you manage that?”

  “Happens about twice a year! My place never gets as busy as this, though.”

  “This is pretty hectic for us too,” Dylan said. “I don’t
know where everyone’s appeared from tonight.” He moved back behind the bar, taking our drinks order as he went.

  “This makes me appreciate village life,” Mike said, looking around. “I couldn’t cope with all this.”

  “Do you ever think you might be getting old?” I asked cheekily.

  “Definitely!” he said. “Old and boring. And happy with it! I like the quiet life.”

  We slipped onto bar stools when a couple next to us left, and Dylan put a bottle of beer and a Coke on the bar in front of us.

  “They’re on the house,” he said. “Just don’t tell Ryan – he thinks all his drinks should be free!”

  “Is he here?”

  He nodded, looking behind me. “Over at the back there.”

  “I’ll go and say hello in a bit.”

  “I wouldn’t bother,” Dylan said. “He’s with his little gang, and they’re drunk and obnoxious. Someone’s twenty-first, I think.”

  I took a long swig of my beer and Dylan left us to serve more customers.

  “I love it in here,” I said, beaming at Mike. “It always brings back so many memories. I used to come in here all the time before I moved to Havendon.”

  “You seem to be settling back into city life well,” he said.

  “It’s okay. But did I tell you I lost my job?” A laugh escaped me. Suddenly, everything seemed funny, and I picked up my beer, taking another long drink, then started to pick at the label.

  “How did that happen?” Mike asked.

  “The boss questioned my commitment to the job,” I told him. “So she won’t give me another contract for the next school year. To be fair, I had a lot going on in my personal life, and I didn’t put work first. When Hailey went missing, I dropped everything and left the school, even though the head teacher, Mrs Stoke, told me to stop. That was the final straw.”

  The beer was going down far too easily, but it felt good to be out and having fun. I looked over at Mike, who set his Coke down in front of him and eyed me sympathetically.

  “It doesn’t matter,” I said, refusing to let it ruin my good mood. “I’ll get another job.”

  “I’m sure you will,” he said. “Why don’t we finish these and I’ll drop you home.”

  “It might be a good idea,” I agreed. My eyes roamed the pub for a moment before I turned back to Mike, changing the subject abruptly. “Have you seen Adam lately?”

  “Only in passing,” he said, sympathy flashing in his eyes.

  “I just wondered,” I said, shrugging. “Did I tell you I went on a date?”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah. My friends set me up on a blind date! It was a disaster.”

  “I guess blind dates usually are,” he said with a smile. “Hmm, you’re very thirsty tonight!”

  I nodded, looking at my almost-empty beer bottle. I’d been drinking it as if it were pop. “I better go and say hi to Ryan before we leave.”

  “I’ll wait here.”

  Dylan was right. Ryan was with a bunch of young guys, all sporting a similar boy band look: gelled hair and skinny jeans.

  He waved when he saw me. “Lucy!”

  “Ryan!” I shouted back at him and he put his arms around me, almost knocking me over when he hugged me.

  “This is my Lucy!” he told his friends, who cheered wildly. “Have a shot with me,” he said, reaching for a drink on the table in front of him. “We’re celebrating Rich’s birthday! He’s twenty-one today.”

  “Happy birthday!” I said to Rich, who came over and slung an arm around Ryan’s shoulders. I tipped the shot down my throat. I had no idea what it was, but it burned all the way down.

  “I was just leaving,” I told Ryan. “I only came to say hi and bye.”

  “Spoilsport!” Ryan complained. “Stay out with us. We’re going to a club later; you can come with us.”

  “I’d better not,” I said, placing the shot glass down and reaching to give him another hug before I headed to the toilets. It seemed hilarious when the tap sprayed water all over me, and I patted the front of my T-shirt down, before reaching for the door handle and missing. When I returned, Mike was still sitting at the bar, chatting to Jack, the landlord, now. No doubt they were swapping pub stories.

  I turned and headed to the pub’s back room. Nostalgia swept over me when I walked in. It looked the same as when we used to hang out there, with a bar on one side of the room and the pool table in the middle, although today it was only being used to prop people up while they drank and chatted.

  We’d spent so many evenings there after we’d been on the TV show, and memories washed over me like waves. Adam was always there with us. Always happy and laughing. Sadness crept in and I walked back to find Mike.

  I leaned over the bar to give Jack a kiss hello and asked for another beer when he offered.

  “I thought we were going?” Mike said.

  “I’m just going to have one more,” I told him. “But you don’t have to wait for me. I can get a taxi.”

  “I don’t like leaving you,” he said. “I’ll wait.”

  “It’s fine. Dylan’s here. And Ryan asked me to go clubbing with him. I’ll be well looked after.”

  Dylan was serving a group of girls next to us, and I was vaguely aware of him giving Mike a meaningful look. I decided to ignore it. If they wanted to be overprotective, that was up to them.

  My good mood was slipping. It was no fun being out with people who would rather be at home.

  “Fine,” I said to Mike. “I’ll finish this and you can take me home.”

  I lifted the bottle to my lips and drank until I felt someone taking it away from me.

  “Behave!” Dylan grinned. “Go home and go to bed. You’ve had enough.”

  I reached over and squeezed his cheek. “You’re so boring these days!”

  Mike followed me when I walked towards the door, waving goodbye to Jack as I went.

  “Nobody wants to have fun with me any more!” I told Mike, pouting. We stepped out into the fresh air, and the sudden quiet left a ringing in my ears.

  “I already told you, I’m old and boring!”

  “You didn’t have to prove it!”

  From the pub, it was only a five-minute drive to Matt and Chrissie’s place, and we’d pulled up outside before I knew it.

  “I’m so glad your date cancelled,” I said, unclipping my seatbelt and shifting in my seat to face him. “I had a brilliant time.”

  “It certainly seems like it!”

  “My blind date was rubbish,” I blurted, feeling the words slurring. “I just want to go on dates and it be like this…” I reached over and touched his arm. “Just like friends going out together.”

  I leaned over to him, intending to give him a kiss on the cheek – I think. But my lips hit his when I moved at the last minute. It didn’t occur to me to pull away. I liked the feel of his lips on mine. He didn’t respond, though, and I felt his hand on my shoulder, gently pushing me back into my seat.

  I opened my mouth to apologise, feeling stupid and embarrassed, but my stomach lurched and I just managed to turn round and open the car door in time to vomit into the gutter.

  My eyes watered as I coughed and spluttered. “I’m so sorry,” I said to Mike, mortified, searching for a tissue in my bag and wiping my mouth. He was hovering on the pavement and held out a hand to me as I got out of the car, avoiding the pool of sick by the door.

  “Don’t worry about it,” he said. “I’m fairly experienced when it comes to drunk people.”

  “Honestly, I’m so sorry,” I said again, tears filling my eyes as he walked me up the front steps to the door. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me sometimes.”

  “Come on, you’re just drunk,” he said. “Sleep it off and you’ll be fine.”

  “I’m so embarrassed. I can’t believe I kissed you.” I fumbled in my bag for my key and shoved it into the lock.

  “I’m always fighting off women who throw themselves at me,” he said jokily. “Happens all
the time!”

  I appreciated his attempt to make me feel better but my humiliation was overwhelming and my stomach was still churning. I felt awful.

  “Will you be okay?” Mike asked.

  “Yes,” I said, managing a smile. “Thanks for bringing me home and looking after me.”

  “No problem.” He backed away down the steps. “Just sleep – you’ll be fine.”

  I waved and walked inside. Once I’d had a glass of water, I headed upstairs and got changed for bed. I should’ve taken Mike’s advice and gone to sleep then, but instead I took out my phone. It had been at the bottom of my bag all night, unchecked. I should have left it like that.

  There were no missed calls or messages. I should have gone to sleep. Instead I searched for Adam’s number and pressed dial. I lay back on the bed while it rang.

  “Hello?” Adam sounded sleepy and confused.

  “It’s Lucy,” I said.

  “Is everything okay?” he asked. “What time is it?”

  “Nothing is okay,” I told him miserably, tears springing to my eyes and spilling down my face. “I lost my job. And I’m living in someone’s spare room.”

  I heard movement and imagined him sitting up in bed, switching on the lamp to check the time, and rubbing his eyes as he tried to wake up. “You’ve really lost your job?” he asked, his words thick with confusion.

  “Yeah, and I got really drunk,” I blurted through a sob. “And I kissed Mike. And I went on a stupid, awful blind date – and it’s all your fault!”

  “You kissed Mike?”

  “Yes. And then puked everywhere. Everything in my life is a mess.”

  There was a brief pause. “It probably seems worse now than it really is,” he said, his soft voice throwing me. I thought he would’ve hung up by now. Or shouted at me.

  “I thought we would get married,” I said, unable to control my sobs. “And now I’m drunk and kissing people who don’t want to be kissed, and throwing up in the street. I thought my life would be so different – our life.” I trailed off, shaking while I cried.

  Adam stayed quiet. By the time I’d managed to calm down, I wondered whether he was still there.