by Maria Realf
Lizzie’s mouth was watering just thinking about it. ‘You’re officially the best boyfriend in the world, you know that?’
‘Well, I try.’ Alex lay down on the picnic blanket, his dark hair flopping lazily across his right eye.
‘I can’t believe we’ve been together a year already,’ said Lizzie, opening a bag of crisps and munching two hungrily. ‘It’s gone so fast.’
‘Yeah, I guess it has.’
She leaned over and kissed him softly, leaving the tiniest trace of sea salt on his lips. ‘I love you, you know. Though I’m not sure how you’re going to top a private picnic on the beach next year.’
‘At least I’ve got 12 months to work on it.’ He reached up and pinched one of her crisps. ‘Actually, these are really good.’
‘Told you.’ She looked out over the shore, where some of the lanterns – now tiny specks in the distance – were starting to extinguish themselves like dying stars. ‘They’re beautiful, aren’t they?’
‘You’re beautiful.’
She smiled. ‘Yeah well, flattery and food really will get you everywhere.’
‘That’s my cunning plan.’
She lay down beside him and rested her head on his jumper. ‘I wonder what we’ll be doing this time next year?’ she said thoughtfully.
‘What do you mean?’
‘Well, you know, I guess me and Megan will be stuck here for our fourth year, but your course will be done by then. Do you think you’ll go full-time at the bar for a bit?’
He was quiet for a moment, and she could hear the sound of a siren in the distance. ‘I don’t know,’ he said eventually. ‘Connor and I had talked about maybe going travelling again after I finished my degree, but we’ll have to see.’
Lizzie sat up straight, feeling like she’d just been punched in the gut. You did what? She couldn’t conceal the shock that flashed across her face. ‘Where were you thinking about going?’
‘Asia, probably – India, maybe Vietnam, Thailand … We already did Australia, so we thought we’d try a different part of the world next time.’
She shovelled some more crisps into her mouth to avoid saying something she’d regret, but one went down the wrong way, causing her to cough and splutter.
‘Lizzie, are you OK?’
‘Uh-huh.’ She took a large gulp of wine, trying to clear her throat. The errant crisp dislodged itself and she managed to catch her breath.
‘You sure?’ he said, frowning with concern. ‘You scared me for a second there. Especially after last year …’
‘I’m fine,’ she said, not quite meeting his gaze. ‘I should probably just eat slower, that’s all.’
Alex reached for her hand. ‘Are you mad about me mentioning the whole travelling thing, by any chance?’
‘No. Course not.’ She tried to keep her tone light, but she’d always been a terrible liar.
‘Lizzie …’ He looked at her with those big eyes and she caved.
‘Alright, maybe I am a bit surprised that you’re planning to go off and you’ve never even mentioned it,’ she blurted. ‘I wouldn’t stop you, if that’s what you’re worried about. But I just figured you might have … you know, said something. How long would you be gone?’
‘I’m not sure.’ His face was almost touching hers now. ‘Look, the reason I never brought it up is because I still haven’t decided what I’m going to do next year. Yes, Connor and I had discussed maybe going away again, but that was before I fell in love with this gorgeous girl I met.’
Lizzie tried to crack a smile, though her stomach was churning wildly. ‘Does she know about me?’
‘No, I’m keeping you a secret.’ He leaned in and kissed her fervently. ‘I can’t tell you what we’ll be doing this time next year, Lizzie. But I can promise you this: whatever happens, we’re going to find a way to make it work.’
She gnawed her lower lip nervously. ‘How do you know?’
‘I just do,’ he said, silencing her with another kiss. ‘It’s a done deal.’
‘Should we shake on it?’ she teased, trying to hide the hurt in her voice.
Alex stood and took her right hand, pulling her up to her feet. ‘We can go one better than that,’ he said, leading her towards the tall cliff face behind them, which almost seemed to be glowing in the moonlight. He retrieved his penknife from his jeans again, flicking up the small blade, and began to carve their initials into the chalky rock: faintly at first, then deeper; the white dust crumbling away and trickling down to mingle with the sand.
‘See? Now it’s officially set in stone.’
Lizzie ran her fingers over the letters, the craggy surface cold beneath her skin. ‘I’m holding you to this,’ she said softly, feeling a sudden rush of love.
‘I hope so,’ said Alex, flipping the knife down and tucking it into his back pocket. He wrapped one strong arm across her shoulders. ‘You don’t have anything to worry about, you know.’
‘I know.’ She tried to ignore any lingering doubts as they strolled back towards the blanket. She belonged with Alex. And he belonged with her. That’s all that matters, isn’t it? Even if we have to do the long-distance thing for a while.
She glanced back at the towering rock behind her; so solid, so steadfast. Then the half-moon disappeared behind a cloud, plunging it into the shadows.
It’ll be fine, she tried to reassure herself.
It has to be fine.
11
8 weeks to go …
Lizzie stood in front of the bedroom mirror, carefully applying lashings of mascara to set off her smoky eyeshadow. The last time she’d attempted to master this trend, she’d ended up looking like she’d been dealt two black eyes, but fortunately tonight’s efforts had been more successful.
She scrutinised her reflection. The willowy gold ballgown, borrowed from Megan’s cousin, was not a bad fit – a little snug around the chest perhaps, but the length was almost perfect, and the elegant halterneck subtly showed off her slim build. Her hair, which she was growing for the wedding, was loosely curled, pinned slightly back with a delicate diamanté clip that matched the twinkling bracelet on her right hand. Her eyes were still the right side of smouldering, but she’d kept her lips simple, opting for a pale pink gloss. ‘OK, you’ll do,’ she muttered to herself. ‘Time to go.’
High heels in hand, she walked slowly down the stairs and into the lounge, where Josh was stretched out on the sofa, munching popcorn and watching the match. As soon as he saw her, he put down his bowl and let out a low wolf-whistle. Lizzie smiled. ‘Yeah, yeah, I’ve trained you well.’ She stepped into the pretty shoes, her freshly painted toes peeking out in a striking shade of scarlet.
‘I’m serious. Do you know how sexy you look right now?’ He got up from the couch and went to kiss her, planting his lips on her cheek as she turned her face slightly to avoid smearing her lipgloss.
‘Sorry, but I don’t have time to redo my make-up, given that Megan’s meant to be here in …’ – she glanced at the clock on the DVD player – ‘about three and a half minutes.’
‘I could show you a good time in three and a half minutes.’
She grinned. ‘I don’t doubt it. You sure you don’t want to come with us?’
‘I do now, with you all dressed up like that.’ Josh pulled a sad face, which made him look even cuter. ‘But like I said, I promised the kids we’d squeeze in an extra practice tomorrow. They’ve got a tough match coming up.’
‘I understand,’ she said. His devotion to the school football team was admirable, even if they didn’t seem to win much.
‘You would if you saw them last week,’ he said. ‘They only scored twice – and one of those was an own goal.’
Lizzie laughed. ‘It’s fine. You should stay.’
‘Well, it’s not like I’d really know many people, so I’m sure you’ll have a better night without me. Just make sure you fend off all those male admirers.’
‘Seriously, I’ve seen what Megan wears to these things. It
won’t be me they’ll be ogling.’
‘Nah, you’ll be the most gorgeous girl at the ball. But I hope you both have a great time.’
‘Thanks. I guess it’ll be fun to catch up with everyone again,’ she smiled. ‘And in two months you’re going to be stuck with me for good, so one little evening apart won’t hurt.’
‘Well, when you put it like that …’ Josh wrapped his arms around her waist and began to slowly kiss her neck. The warmth of his mouth made her skin tingle. ‘This is OK, isn’t it? Not going to ruin your make-up?’
‘Yes, that’s most definitely OK,’ she said, suddenly wishing that she could cancel everything and whisk him upstairs instead.
Just then the sound of a horn beeped outside. ‘That’s Meg. I’ve got to go.’ They moved into the hallway, and she gave him a big hug, letting her head linger on his shoulder. ‘I love you.’
‘Love you too. You really do look stunning.’
‘Thanks. You’re not so bad yourself.’ She opened the door and waved at Megan, who was sitting behind the wheel of a convertible black Mercedes.
‘Since when did she get a new car?’ asked Josh, not even attempting to hide the envy in his voice.
‘I’ve no idea,’ said Lizzie. ‘I’ve never seen it before in my life. I’ll have to get all the goss.’ She wrapped her arms tightly around his neck for a final hug. ‘Right, I’ve really got to make a move now. I’ll see you tomorrow.’
‘Enjoy the ball, Cinderella.’
‘I will.’ She picked up the overnight bag she’d left by the door earlier and gave him a quick kiss. ‘Bye, then.’
She could still feel his eyes lingering on her as she walked down the driveway, stuck her bag in the car boot and settled into the passenger seat. Megan gave a quick toot of the horn as the car purred to life and a waving Josh disappeared into the distance.
‘Guess you’re my hot date for this evening,’ Megan joked. ‘That dress looks incredible on you. I’ll ask Lily if you can keep it. She’s got so many she won’t care.’
‘Oh no, don’t do that,’ said Lizzie. ‘It’s nice of her just to lend it to me. And I love what you’re wearing, too.’ Megan was clad in a slinky topaz number, her tiny waist accentuated by a slim yellow belt that complemented her blonde corkscrew curls. She looked like she’d just stepped out of the fashion section of the website she worked for, a cross between a young Carrie Bradshaw and a fairytale princess.
‘Thanks. I borrowed it from a stylist friend, so you can’t let me spill anything down it, alright?’
‘Er, OK. What about the new Mercedes? Don’t tell me you “borrowed” that from the company car park?’
‘Very funny. I did borrow it, if you must know – but only from my stepdad. He’s still feeling guilty because he forgot my birthday. Worked out pretty well.’
‘What’s wrong with your car?’
‘Nothing, I’ve left it at home. We haven’t seen some of these people for years, Lizzie, so I thought we should turn up in style. Make a good impression.’
‘Ah, so we’re pretending it’s yours …’
‘No, we’re not doing anything of the sort. But if people automatically assume it’s my car then I’m not going to waste time correcting them.’
‘I see.’ Lizzie suppressed a smile. ‘So how many people do you think we’ll actually know at this thing?’
‘A fair few,’ replied Megan, checking her hair in the rear-view mirror. ‘I sent an email to some of the old Cliffstowe crowd to see if they were going.’
‘Like who?’
‘Well, Louise said that she’ll be there, with Helen and Joy.’
‘Anyone else?’ She did not name names, but Megan was sharp enough to pick up on the subtext.
‘Oh, yeah, you’ll be pleased to know that Alex is a no-show,’ she said smugly.
Oh. Good. The mere mention of him always made Lizzie feel flustered. ‘How do you know?’
‘My old coursemate Ruby is married to his friend Dev. You remember Dev. Really tall. Great hair. Anyway, they’re the ones who told me he was back in the first place.’
The names vaguely rang a distant bell. ‘So? What makes them think he’s not going?’
‘I asked her to suss it out.’
‘You did what?’ Lizzie was horrified.
‘No, don’t worry, I was very discreet. But she said they’d already asked Alex if he wanted to go with them and he said – and I quote – “I’d rather jab a guitar pick in my eye.’’’
Ha. Lizzie gave a tight-lipped grin. ‘Sounds about right. Like you said, it’s not exactly his scene.’
‘Told you. So now you can chill out. But Gareth’s coming, by the way. Haven’t seen him for ages!’
‘Me either. It’ll be good to catch up with him. And the girls.’ She twiddled with her engagement ring. ‘Do you think we should invite them to my hen do?’
Megan shrugged her shoulders. ‘Up to you.’
‘But what do you think?’
‘Maybe play it by ear. See how this evening goes and then decide.’
‘Good thinking. So are we heading straight to the ball now or swinging by the hotel?’
‘Well, we’re not going to be able to stop for long, but I thought we could dump our bags and then drive over to the venue. They’ve got parking there, so we can get a cab back to the hotel later and collect the car in the morning.’
‘You’re impressively organised today.’
‘I’m always organised.’
Lizzie was tempted to remind her of the time she ran out of petrol on their trip to Devon, or the weekend they went to that music festival and Megan forgot where she’d pitched the tent, but decided to keep quiet. It had been a while since they’d enjoyed a girlie break and she didn’t want anything to spoil it.
As they drove down the motorway, singing along to an old compilation CD of their favourite student anthems, Lizzie felt a wave of nostalgia wash over her. For most of her four years there, uni had been the happiest time of her life, but the final few months had cast a shadow over her previously sunny memories. I’d forgotten how much I used to love all of this, she thought, as Megan shamelessly murdered a Girls Aloud track alongside her. I’m gutted I missed the graduation ball, but tonight things will be different. I’ll get the chance to do it right.
As the song came to an end, she hit the pause button on the stereo. ‘You know, I probably don’t say this enough, but thank you.’
‘For what?’
‘For everything. Not just tonight, with the dress and the driving, but all of it. I literally don’t know where I’d be if it wasn’t for you.’
Megan sniffed, and for a second Lizzie thought that her eyes looked a little watery. Then she shook her head, her curls bouncing around as if on springs. ‘Stop it – you’ll make me cry and then you’ll mess up my mascara.’
‘OK, sorry.’
‘This wedding’s turned you soft, you know. We only left Josh behind 30 minutes ago, and already you’re getting soppy with me.’
‘What can I say? I love both of you.’
Megan changed gear and smiled. ‘Yeah, I’m pretty fond of you too, missus,’ she said. ‘Now stick my CD back on so that we can get to the Steps medley.’
Ninety minutes and one brief stop later, Megan turned the Mercedes on to a sweeping driveway leading up to a gravelly car park, her headlights illuminating the spectacular venue ahead of them. The stately home was huge, like something out of a Jane Austen novel, with imposing columns guarding the entrance and ivy creeping tastefully up the walls. The front lawn was beautifully manicured, its central walkway illuminated by cream candles in large glass lanterns, and fairy lights twinkled in the surrounding trees. ‘It looks like a film set,’ Lizzie marvelled, as they got out of the car. ‘Don’t you think, Meg?’
‘Yeah, it’s something to look at alright. Bet it’s a bugger to clean, though.’ She locked the car and threw the keys in her oversized clutch. Lizzie had forgotten to bring an evening bag, but Megan’s was so big t
hat it could take both their wallets and still hold enough make-up to launch a cosmetics counter.
‘If I lived somewhere like this, I’d sit around writing novels all day long.’
‘You’d have to write a hell of a lot of novels to fund this place. Maybe if you were the next J.K. Rowling.’
‘A girl can dream, can’t she?’
‘Can she dream at the bar?’ replied Megan, a smile spreading across her glossy lips.
The two of them linked arms and made their way towards the heavy double doors, where a doorman checked their tickets and ushered them down a long, red-carpeted corridor. Megan squealed with delight as the sound of the Backstreet Boys beckoned them towards the ballroom. ‘I feel like a teenager again!’ she shrieked.
When they reached a marble staircase stretching down to the dance floor, Lizzie looked around in awe. A magnificent chandelier dominated the centre of the ceiling, refracting the light from the DJ’s booth like a grand glitterball. The left-hand wall was lined with a long row of tables, clad in pristine white cloths, all piled high with a tantalising array of party food. Glamorous guests were mingling by the bar on the right: the women so elegant in their eveningwear, the men a dashing army of Bond-alikes in their uniform dinner suits. It was amazing what a bit of black tie could do for even the average looker.
Lizzie made her way slowly down the staircase, tentatively raising the delicate hem of her dress to avoid catching her high heels. Please don’t let me trip. Megan – who was more adept at walking in vertiginous footwear – strutted on ahead like a supermodel on a catwalk.
By the time Lizzie finally reached the bottom, Megan was already in the queue for the bar. ‘What are you drinking?’ she mouthed over the pumping music. ‘Wine?’
‘Yes, please,’ Lizzie mouthed back. ‘White. Large.’ She was in need of a drink now, craving a little Dutch courage before she attempted to make small talk with people she hadn’t seen for several years. She surveyed the room, scanning the sea of former students for familiar faces. It was a little like watching one of those celebrity TV shows, packed with people she half-recognised but couldn’t quite place.
