Page 3 of The Love of Our Lives
‘Let’s set up camp here,’ she says, her voice that bit sharper now, and I feel bad for her – it’s her day out too. She’s even wearing her big straw hat and her favourite white dress with thepoppies on it. She bought it for a holiday a few years back, which inevitably got cancelled.
‘I’ll go round up my brood if everything’s OK now,’ Jess says, bounding back off down the slope, and I watch her go wistfully. It’s not that I’m not used to being left with Mum and Dad – I’ve always lived at home, after all – it’s just I’d really like to be in her shoes for a moment.
In front of me now, Dad sorts the logistics as usual, laying out the tartan picnic blanket and a couple of deck chairs for ‘the oldies’, while Mum and I take out all the other stuff: Iyumat the sandwiches andoohat the nibbles from M&S – salami and cheese, fat olives and velvety hummus – before Mum takes a Tupperware box out and passes it to me.
‘Thanks,’ I say, smiling. Through the white plastic I can vaguely make out the shape of my brown bread sandwiches and I can’t help sighing as I look back up.
Pop.
I look up to see Dad holding an open champagne bottle. Fizz bubbles over the glass lip, and I feel warm at the sight of him in his favourite checked shirt today. His white hair is almost transparent in the sunlight but the big silly grin on his face makes him look years younger today.
‘Here you go, Small,’ he says, passing me the glass, and I light up briefly at the pet name. But in a flash, Mum is there.
‘Don’t be silly, Iain,’ she says, taking the glass from him. ‘I don’t even know why you brought this stuff anyway.’
Dad’s face immediately falls, and I feel annoyed on his behalf.
‘It was just a little sip,’ I try, but she’s not listening.
‘Exactly,’ Dad says, ‘a little half glass isn’t going to kill anyone.’
A horrible silence falls between the three of us, and I’m about to say something to ease the tension, when I see a couple strolling our way across the lawn. And there’s something about the man that makes me stop. He’s all shorts and t-shirt vibes, sunglasseson, but I would know that firm jawline anywhere, that sweep of dark hair. My stomach drops.
Nick.
CHAPTER TWO
A few moments later, I’m still mentally processing who I’m seeing. I try to look away but he’s already clocked me sitting here and I know it’s too late.
We’re going to have to do this whether we want to or not, and panic floods me.
As he approaches, I can better see who he’s with too – an equally attractive girl with long golden hair and long tanned legs in denim shorts. He whispers something to her, and she smiles curiously at me, which makes me burn up inside.
As quickly as I can, I stand up, suddenly conscious of how pale I look in my loose dark dress, my red hair pulled back out the way. It’s only when they’re almost in front of me, that I see – the hard curve of her stomach below her fitted vest, the sparkle of the ring on her left hand. I swallow.
‘Maggie,’ Nick says, coming to a stop. Propping his shades on top of his head, those sparkly blue eyes I used to adore focus in on me. ‘I thought it was you. How have you been?’
‘Oh, good,’ I say immediately, heart racing, tongue thick with nerves. ‘Great really, we’re just here celebrating . . . a thing today.’ I don’t want to get into it.
‘Nice,’ he says, and turns to the girl. ‘This is Sophie, by the way.’
‘Hi, Sophie,’ I say a bit too enthusiastically.
‘Lovely to meet you, Maggie,’ she replies genuinely, which makes it all even worse. I glance briefly at the bangles down her lean arms, the well-worn flip-flops on her feet.
‘Nick,’ a voice behind me says, and I die a bit inside as Mum appears smiling beside me. ‘I thought it was you.’
‘Hello, Sue,’ Nick says, ‘how have you been? Lovely weather for a picnic.’
‘Oh yes,’ she gushes, ‘isn’t it? And how are you, dear? Where are you based these days?’
‘Geneva, actually. We’re running our own ski company there now—’ he and Sophie glance briefly at each other ‘—but we’re back visiting my parents while we can.’ He indicates at the bump, and even though I smile and immediately saycongratulations, my chest is pulling so tight. Why is this happening today of all days? And why did I have to be having a bloody picnic with my parents?
‘Oh, that all sounds lovely,’ Mum says.
‘And you, Maggie?’ Nick says. He glances behind me at the blanket where my dad is rummaging about in the cool box. ‘Are you still . . . here?’
‘Yup, in Edinburgh, as always,’ I say, trying for chirpy but it ends up landing flat.
