The Broken Hearts Book Club (2 page)

‘That’s my girl!’ She kissed me on my cheek. ‘My little superstar.’

My insides twisted and squirmed. I was such a terrible person, I thought.

‘I’m going to the bar, do any of you want anything?’

Nana Lily’s friends muttered that they’d like a Scotch and a dry sherry, while Mum was sticking to her orange juice. I slipped away from the awkward conversation and made my way to the bar. I claimed the only free stool left and let my head sink down to the solid wood beneath me. Dad was lucky, I thought. He’d gone home to attend to what he’d called a ‘minor plumbing problem’, so wasn’t here to bear witness to me lying through my teeth. A neighbour of ours had called to say she’d heard running water, so he’d dashed off to see what was going on.

‘Bad day?’ a gruff voice in front of me asked. It was a soft Yorkshire accent that made me want to smile and do a happy dance.

I looked up and saw a young man, around my age, standing before me. He was attractive in a quirky way; he had huge slate-grey eyes, a nose that was slightly crooked as though he’d been in a fight and full bow-like lips. A few stray locks of wavy brown hair skimmed his forehead, while a smattering of stubble was dotted across his creamy skin. He held a pint glass in his strong, veiny hands as he dried it with a towel. I decided to name him Fitty McFitterson until I knew his real name.

‘The worst.’ I groaned and tapped my head on the wooden bar a few times. ‘I sang
Big Yellow Taxi
in front of everyone at my nana’s funeral and everyone laughed!’

‘That’s nothing; I was up at four a.m. to accept a delivery from the brewery, a tap burst in the gents’ toilets then when I cleaned that up, the lights went! I thought we were going to have to cancel the wake, but luckily we got them fixed.’

This guy was starting to remind me of Eeyore from
Winnie the Pooh.
He sounded so beaten down and sad.

‘I embarrassed myself in front of a church full of people who aren’t going to forget in a hurry. I think I win.’ I glanced up at him, hoping he wouldn’t contradict me. Being right was about the only thing I had just now.

‘All right, you win. This time. Do you sing at other occasions or is it just funerals?’

I blushed and shoved my head into my hands so Fitty McFitterson didn’t see. ‘Oh no, I do the whole lot: weddings, birthday parties, bar mitzvahs. Need someone to awkwardly burst into song on special occasions? I’m your woman.’

He leaned on the bar, bringing his face level with mine and rolling the sleeves of his white shirt up to reveal more of his muscly arms.

Oh, mama!

I gave myself a shake. A guy this good-looking wasn’t likely to be available and I was heading back to London as soon as humanly possible. Though what I was going to do when I got there was anyone’s guess…

‘I’ll bear that in mind. Have you got any more party pieces, like juggling or doing impressions? I’ve got a mate who can burp the whole of
Hot in Herre
by Nelly.’

I let out a small chuckle that sounded like a chipmunk being tortured. Today
really
wasn’t my day.

‘Very impressive! Nah, making a fool of myself is my speciality. I’m a one-trick pony,’ I laughed. ‘Actually no, I’m pretty good at getting fired too. But that’s it, no more party pieces.’

Fitty McFitterson managed a smile and looked at me. ‘I’m sure that’s not true. You look like a woman who has loads of tricks up her sleeve. What did you do?’

My stomach started doing an acrobatics routine so accomplished it could’ve taken gold at the Olympics. Surely Fitty McFitterson wasn’t
flirting
with me?

I looked at him with what I hoped were come-get-me eyes. In reality, I probably looked like I had a squint.

‘I worked in events; planned parties, corporate retreats, that sort of thing. I wasn’t as good at it as I thought apparently; my boss fired me last week. She said I attract chaos wherever I go.’

Under normal circumstances, I’d be delivering sparkling conversation and found out his name, life story and inside leg measurement by now. However, I didn’t quite feel it was appropriate to flirt at my nana’s wake. I’d already caused a scene once without adding more drama to proceedings.

‘So not a miracle worker then? I could do with one of those right now; even a good accountant would be a start.’ He stopped for a second and laughed. ‘Listen to me banging on when it’s you who’s at a bloody funeral! I’m not like this all the time, I promise. Let me get you a drink and you can tell me about singing
Big Yellow Taxi
to the whole village. It sounds like a great story.’

‘How can I say no to that? A vodka and Coke for me please; you can tell me why you need a miracle worker.’

‘Coming right up, it’s a long story mind.’

‘I’ve got time to listen.’

Fitty McFitterson turned his back to fix my drink and I sneaked a peek at his bottom.
Perky and round
, I thought,
and very squeezable
.

He went to the back of the pub to fetch something. Just after he left, I felt the atmosphere of the pub darken. There was a presence of someone behind me and I just knew I wouldn’t like it. If I closed my eyes and wished myself away, perhaps I’d wind up back at my flat in London, safe from the world with a giant tub of Ben & Jerry’s ice cream…

No.

‘I didn’t expect to see
you
here today, Lucy.’

I turned round and saw the last person I wanted to see. My body instantly went into panic mode as I came face to face with her. Every inch of me began to shake and although my brain was screaming at me to run, I stayed rooted to the spot.

‘Hello Mrs Cunningham,’ I said in as calm a voice as I could muster. ‘H-how have you been?’

I worked up the nerve to look her in the eye and took a deep breath to brace myself. She was looking at me as though I was something unpleasant she’d trodden in with her expensive Gucci shoes.

‘Take a wild guess at how I’ve been. I’ll give you a clue: it hasn’t exactly been sunshine and rainbows recently. But then you’ll know
exactly
why that is, won’t you? Given that it’s all your fault.’ Her voice cut through the muted atmosphere like a blast of icy wind. I could feel my entire body shaking with fear. I’d desperately hoped I wouldn’t run into Mrs Cunningham. No such luck.

My heartbeat quickened as memories clamoured for my attention, ones I hadn’t allowed to surface for quite some time. I could feel a crimson blush creep into my cheeks and I desperately wanted to curl up into a ball and disappear.

‘Mrs Cunningham, I’m so sorry. P-please, you have to believe me, I didn’t set out for any of it to happen…’

She rolled her eyes and glared at me. ‘I thought you were down in London nowadays,’ she said coldly.

‘I-I am, I’m just up for Nana Lily’s funeral. I’m going back in a couple of days.’

Had it been anyone else, I’d have squared up to them and told them that my life was no business of theirs, but Mrs Maggie Cunningham was different. The animosity between us was rooted deep in the past and could never be healed. Not when so much had happened.

‘Quite right, you’ll want to get away from here as soon as possible won’t you? After all, we haven’t seen hide nor hair of you round these parts for a long time. From what I’ve seen, you can’t even be bothered to visit your poor mum and dad at Christmas. Smells like a guilty conscience to me.’

And with that Maggie gracefully glided off towards a group of people in the far corner of the pub. I watched as she embraced and laughed and engaged in conversation: none of those courtesies had been reserved for me. Her eyes locked with mine for a brief, chilling moment before they slid sideways as though I didn’t exist, like something had caught her eye and she’d turned to see what it was but found nothing there. I was a trick of the light, a spectre at the feast. The worst part of it all was that she was right. For the past eight Christmases, I’d made silly excuses to avoid coming back to Luna Bay and given my family no alternative but to visit me in London or send their presents by post. It hadn’t been the same as spending the festive season in Luna Bay of course, but it was what I’d resigned myself to. Maggie was right: I had a very guilty conscience.

Fitty McFitterson made his way back with a brand new bottle of vodka and came over with my drink.

‘Here we are, one vodka and Coke for Luna Bay’s answer to Joni Mitchell.’

By the time he’d reached the end of his sentence, I’d grabbed my bag and run out of the pub.

Chapter Two

Time to go, I’ve made a huge mistake.

I ran home, mentally preparing myself to run away again. All I could think was that I had to get out of Luna Bay as quickly as possible. Seeing Maggie Cunningham had brought back every bad memory I’d tried to suppress and now it was time to leave.

When I walked through the door, I was greeted with a miniature version of Atlantis. Water was pouring through the light fitting in the hall, pooling on the carpet and spreading at a rapid rate. There was a huge damp patch on the ceiling that looked like it would burst open at any moment and when I poked my head round the kitchen door, I noticed water was spurting through the light fitting in there too. This was obviously Dad’s attempt at fixing the ‘minor plumbing problem’.

‘Dad?’ I called. ‘Is everything OK?’

‘Everything’s fine Luce!’ His voice was surprisingly sunny, considering his house looked like the venue for the Olympic swimming trials. ‘Just a bit of a problem upstairs, nothing to worry about!’

I wasn’t buying that for a second. I ran up the stairs and found Dad in the bathroom, ineffectually mopping a giant pool of water. It wasn’t hard to see where it had come from: the sink taps had been left on and it had overflowed.

‘Oh Dad, what have you done?’ I stared blankly at the mess and tried to stop a rogue giggle from bursting out of me. There were towels everywhere soaking up the water and Dad was acting like nothing had happened.

‘I was having a wash before the funeral when the phone rang and I forgot I’d left the taps running.’ He smiled and continued mopping. ‘See, told you there was nothing to worry about!’

‘I don’t think Mum’s going to see it that way! It’s like bloody Atlantis in here.’

Dad did a mock-scared face and shrugged his shoulders. ‘It’ll all come out in the wash.’ He laughed at his own joke then put his mop down. ‘It’s lovely having you back here, you know.’

I nodded, feeling a bit guilty that I’d come home to get my stuff and leg it again.

‘Yeah I’ve missed the old place,’ I admitted. It was true; during all my time in London, Luna Bay and the life I’d left behind had never been far from my thoughts. ‘I… bumped into Maggie Cunningham at the wake.’

Dad’s easy smile vanished and he came over to put an arm around me. He knew exactly why seeing Maggie Cunningham was a bad thing. He led me over to the top of the stairs and we sat down.

‘And how did that go, as if I need to ask.’

‘About as well as could be expected. She basically told me to sod off back to London and never tip up in Luna Bay again.’

‘So you didn’t talk about –?’

‘No.’ I cut him off before he said the words that would hurt more than anything else. ‘She made it clear she still blames me for what happened all those years ago. Maybe she’s right Dad, maybe I should just go back to London and never come here again.’

He squeezed my shoulder and pulled me in for a hug. ‘Don’t listen to her Lucy. This is your home and you’ve as much right to be here as she has. All that bad stuff happened eight years ago now; time makes people move on.’

He’s right,
I thought,
I just wish it didn’t hurt so much after all this time
.

‘Yeah you’re right,’ I replied. ‘I’m only here for a few days anyway then I’ll be heading off back to London.’

The thought of going back made me feel sick. I had no job to go to and probably no flat either. With only George’s income, we’d likely have to give up our Kentish Town flat and either find other people to stay with or look for a place we could afford. I hated the thought of the little world I’d created being torn apart. It was safe and ordered and now everything would be turned upside down.

‘You don’t have to go rushing off if you don’t want to. Why don’t you stay a while, go round some of your old haunts? Your mum and me would be delighted to have you here for a bit.’

I could feel his kind blue eyes on me; it was as though he knew about everything that had happened in London and was trying to give me a way out of going back.

Before I could answer, the front door opened and Mum appeared with George in tow. Her eyes widened with horror as she realised her house looked like a scene from
The Little Mermaid.
My best friend looked equally unimpressed. He looked like he’d stepped into a parallel universe with no clue what to do.

‘DAVID!!’ she yelled. ‘WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON HERE?’

Dad took that as his cue to run downstairs and work his magic charms on her.

‘Don’t worry Elaine; I’ll have it sorted in no time. Just you wait and see!’

‘How have you managed this?! I thought it was a minor plumbing problem!’

‘Well, you know how it is love; these old houses just surprise you sometimes, don’t they? It started out minor but it’s gone a bit… Well a bit further than that now! Still, Lucy and I will have it sorted it out in no time!’

Mum gestured to George, ‘You’ll have to get this one here to help you instead. Lucy and I have an appointment at the solicitor’s to sort out Mum’s will. Come on you!’ she called to me.

‘Come on then lad.’ Dad came down and slung an arm round George’s shoulder. ‘We’ll have this trouble sorted out in no time.’

My best friend nodded but didn’t look too sure of himself. He wasn’t exactly a dab hand at DIY and usually ended up making a small problem much worse. Unfortunately for him, my dad was very much the same.

Running down the stairs to grab my jacket, I felt anticipation knotting in my stomach. I was more than a little annoyed that my escape plans had been derailed, but I was also quite excited to see what the solicitor had in store for us.

***