Authors: Jennifer Joyce
‘No way.’ Ryan seemed genuinely panicked at the thought. ‘I’m not turning down a free meal. Plus, your sister’s pretty scary when she gets mad.’
Clara had been mad at me and Ryan an awful lot when we were younger. Clara and I had shared a bedroom and she didn’t appreciate the amount of time Ryan and I spent in her domain. Or that we raided her ‘secret’ stash of crisps and chocolate.
‘So didn’t Clara mention this at all yesterday?’ We’ve been buzzed into the building and Ryan has stationed himself in front of the mirrored wall of the lift, making sure his hair is the right side of stylishly dishevelled rather than dragged-through-a-hedge dishevelled.
Oh, balls! I forgot I’d told Ryan and Lauren that I’d spent the afternoon with Clara and Graham while I was with Adam yesterday. Inexplicably, considering I’d rather chew my own toenails off than volunteer to spend time with my sister and her boring boyfriend, they’d bought it. It seemed I’d done nothing but spill untruths for the past few weeks.
‘Nope, nothing at all.’ I’m trying (and failing) not to panic but luckily Ryan is preoccupied with a stubborn tuft of hair. ‘But don’t mention me being here yesterday, will you? Clara had something really embarrassing to discuss with me and she wouldn’t want reminding of it.’ More untruths. I’m gathering quite a pile of them – surely it won’t be long before they all come tumbling down around me.
The lift opens on Clara and Graham’s floor and Ryan and I step out of it. Instead of silencing Ryan, my latest lie only intrigues him.
‘What was it? I won’t say anything to her, I swear.’
I try to think of the very worst thing Ryan would want to hear about my sister. ‘She’s been having problems with her periods. She’s been to see the gynaecologist, who’s had a good look at her cervix and he says –’
‘Gah!’ Ryan holds up a hand to stop me, his lips twisting in distaste. ‘Got it. My lips are sealed.’ I’m so grateful men are so squeamish when it comes to the inner workings of a woman’s body as I have no idea how I’ll talk my way out of this if my lies are exposed.
Clara opens the door and leads us into the sitting room, which is full of her snooty friends, plus my family. Mum and Dad are chatting to a middle-aged bloke in a vile jumper in various shades of brown while Justin is slumped on the sofa, eyes clamped on his phone as he taps away at the screen. Graham’s parents are here too, sitting alongside Justin on the sofa. I’ve met them only once before as they live quite far away and aren’t too keen on long journeys. Marjorie and Malcolm are in their eighties, stooped and with faces lined with creases. Malcolm is chatting away, trying to engage my brother in conversation, despite my brother’s clear lack of interest.
‘Come through. I think that’s everybody now.’ Clara looks pointedly at her watch. It’s six minutes past seven, for God’s sake. ‘Graham, I think it’s time.’ Clara scuttles towards the fireplace, indicating that her boyfriend should join her. She beams at the people filling her sitting room and links her arm through Graham’s. ‘Thank you for coming at such short notice everybody. We’ve gathered you all here because we’ve got an announcement to make.’
‘She’s not going to tell us about her dodgy girl-plumbing, is she?’ Ryan looks stricken as he leans in close to whisper his fear.
I nudge him with my elbow and put a finger up to my lips. I don’t want Clara to get wind of my fib. Or to tick us off for interrupting.
‘As you all know, Graham and I have spent the weekend in Paris.’ She pronounces it par-ee like the muppet that she is.
‘Paris?’ Ryan whispers and I’m about to confirm that yes, she did mean Paris when it dawns on me that one of my fibs is about to bite me on the bum. Hard.
Oh, fudge! Why do I never pay attention to anything my sister says? And what am I going to do now? The only thing I can think of at this moment in time is to put my finger to my lips and nod at Clara, who is still wittering on. This will buy me a little bit more time to think of a plausible excuse, but unfortunately my mind is nothing but a series of expletives.
‘We had an amazing time,’ Clara gushes. ‘We have photos, which you can have a look at later. But first – our announcement!’ Clara gazes at Graham and emits a love-sick-puppy sigh. ‘While we were in Par-ee, Graham took me up the Eiffel Tower.’ I hear Ryan sniggering beside me and silence him with an elbow. ‘And Graham…’ Clara pauses for effect before sticking out her left hand, which she has successfully hidden from us until now. ‘Proposed to me! Can you believe it? We’re getting married!’
Mum, Dad, Marjorie and a gaggle of snooty friends rush towards the newly betrothed couple to offer their congratulations and to get a gander at the ring. Ryan and I hang back and I know from the raised eyebrows and tilted head that he is waiting for an explanation. Of which I am not in possession of.
‘If Clara and Graham were in Paris yesterday, how did you spend the afternoon with them?’
How indeed. I have nothing. Absolutely nothing.
‘Champagne!’ Clara suddenly calls out. She emerges from the crowd gathered around the fireplace and marches into the kitchen. ‘We need to celebrate!’
‘Clara, wait!’ I grab Clara as she walks past me and pull her into a hug, which is startling for both of us but a great distraction for me. ‘Congratulations on your engagement. I’m so happy for you and Graham.’
‘Thank you, Delilah.’ Clara places a hand on her baby blue cardigan-clad chest. ‘That means a lot. It really does.’
‘Let me give you a hand in the kitchen.’ I leave Ryan in the sitting room, my mind working overtime as I grab glasses from the cupboards. Clara isn’t at all happy that the glasses don’t match, but it’s too late to pop out to the shops to stock up on champagne flutes now. I still haven’t come up with a plausible excuse by the time we’ve poured the champagne into the mismatched glasses (and a couple of mugs, which Clara almost wept over) and distributed them to Clara and Graham’s guests. I join Ryan, my mind still betraying me with its blankness. Luckily Dad comes to the rescue by proposing a toast. We all raise our glasses, chorusing Dad’s sentiment but then I’m on my own. It’s time to fess up.
‘Well?’ Ryan asks once the room has descended upon the happy couple again.
‘Well what?’ I decide that playing dumb is my only answer. If I’m clever enough, the dumb act may just get me through the entire evening.
‘Where were you yesterday? Because you weren’t here or in Par-ee.’
‘I never said I was here.’ I point down at the Clara’s plush grey carpet.
‘But you did say you were with Clara, which you weren’t. And even if you were, I’m pretty sure Clara didn’t go all the way to France to discuss her lady business with you.’
Fudgery-doo-dah. He’s got me there. I’ve managed to double tangle myself in a lie and I can’t see a way out of it.
‘Lauren and I have noticed you’ve been a bit weird lately,’ Ryan says. ‘I said that maybe you’re seeing somebody but Lauren says you wouldn’t do that while you and I are pretending to date. Which is rubbish because you know we’re not really dating, right?’
Ryan looks a bit scared as he awaits my answer and I’m half tempted to go all bunny boiler on him and pretend that I’ve been living under the assumption that we were properly in love. But, as fun as winding Ryan up would be, I’m in enough trouble here.
‘Of course I know we’re not really dating.’
‘Then what’s going on? Are you seeing somebody? And if you are, why can’t you tell us?’
‘Because it’s Courtney.’ I really can’t help myself. Why on earth do I keep digging myself further and further into this hole? It’s an illness, I’m sure.
‘What?’
‘Courtney. The guy from the gym.’ I’ve said it now, I may as well continue on this dodgy path.
‘I know who Courtney is. I’ve had to listen to Lauren bang on about him and his perfect calves for months.’ Ryan runs his hand through his hair, nudging the carefully styled locks into dangerous hedge-dragging territory. ‘How could you do this to Lauren? She’s your best friend.’
‘I know. That’s why I’ve had to keep it a secret.’
I loathe myself.
‘And what happens when she finds out?’ Ryan demands. ‘Because she will. She’s a wily one, that girl. And tough. I’d be pretty damn scared if I were you.’
‘She won’t find out.’ I hope. ‘You won’t tell her, will you?’
‘You can’t do this to Lauren.’ Worryingly, Ryan hasn’t answered my question. If Lauren hears that I’m dating a man she once had a massive crush on, even if it was only a distraction from her feelings for Ryan, she’ll go crazy. And rightly so. Dating Courtney would go against the unwritten girl code. It would be even worse than dating Adam.
Gah! Why didn’t I just tell the truth in the first place?
‘Fine, I’ll end it,’ I tell Ryan. ‘But please don’t tell Lauren about this.’
I plaster a smile on my face as Mum bounds over to us.
‘Isn’t this marvellous news?’ she asks, her eyes shining with happy tears. ‘It’ll be you two next!’ Mum gives me a squeezy hug and plants a kiss on mine and then Ryan’s cheek before she bounds away again. Graham is on us next, offering us a champagne top-up, which we both readily accept.
‘You won’t say anything to Lauren, will you?’ I ask once we’re alone again.
‘I won’t, as long as you do end it. Nobody is worth wrecking your friendship with Lauren for. You know that, right?’
I nod. ‘You’re right. She’s my best friend.’
Sorry, Courtney. Looks like we’re breaking up, dude.
The Durban Food Festival
Text Message:
Ryan:
I’m so hungry, I could eat a dead dog and its fleas
Delilah:
The dog next door has been annoyingly yappy lately. No idea if it has fleas but I could bring it over for you…
Ryan:
You’re the best friend ever
Delilah:
I was kidding!!!
Ryan:
Yeah, me too
I’ve told great fat lies to practically everybody I know. So many that my brain is turning to mush trying to keep up with them and I’m in constant fear that I’m going to be found out. Meeting Isaac and Luke was fantastic and it showed me that Adam is serious about me, that I’m not just some passing office fling, but it also brings its own problems to the mix. Meeting the boys opens up the possibility of Adam meeting my family, which obviously can’t happen until I’ve ‘broken up’ with Ryan and I’m running out of excuses to keep Adam at bay.
Luckily, the arrival of the Durban Food Festival means we get to spend the whole weekend together without the worry of my friends or family discovering Adam, or vice versa. The annual festival takes place in Cheshire, within the grounds of Durban Castle and although it’s less than an hour away by car, Neville has been convinced to let us stay over during the course of the festival. For the first time in history, Katey-Louise and her spoiled princess ways have come in useful. The three of us will be attending the festival, but I know for a fact that Katey-Louise will have little to do with the festival as it means not only working but working over the weekend, which will give me and Adam some much-needed time together.
The festival begins at ten o’clock on Friday morning and ends at five on Sunday evening, so the three of us set off early, having loaded the Brinkley’s van with everything we need.
‘It’s barbaric being up this early,’ Katey-Louise grumbles as she slumps into the passenger seat by the window. She’s bagged the window seat but I don’t mind as it means I get to sit next to Adam during the drive. ‘It’s still dark. How am I supposed to function on no sleep? And look at the state of this.’ Katey-Louise pulls at her red Brinkley’s t-shirt and curls her lip. ‘Lame!’
‘Are you going to moan the whole way there?’ Adam asks as he pulls away from the Brinkley’s large, detached house.
‘No.’ Katey-Louise wriggles down in her seat and leans her head against the window. ‘I’m going to sleep. Wake me when we get there.’
This weekend we’ll be staying in a little bed and breakfast in the nearest town to Durban Castle, so we get ourselves booked in and drop our things off first before moving onto the food festival. We’ve been assigned a stall in a marquee close to a lake, with cheese and honey stalls as our neighbours. There’s already a delicious, spicy aroma wafting over from an Indian restaurant’s stall across the marquee and although it’s still early in the morning, my stomach rumbles.
The marquee is filling up fast and as I look around I see an array of produce, from vegan cupcakes to gourmet sausage rolls and pork pies, coffee to beer and wine, plus a smoothie stall (which I will be sampling as soon as possible). There’s also a minor celebrity chef setting up his stall, where he’ll be demonstrating dishes and flogging signed copies of his cook book.
The Brinkley’s stall will consist of individual biscuits, which we’ll be serving with tea, as well as packets, tins and luxury hampers. We’ll also be demonstrating the rocky road bites at intervals throughout the weekend and providing recipes cards, as well as debuting the new product Karen and the development kitchen have been working on – in the hope of garnering feedback before they’re officially launched. Adam and I have been busily preparing for the festival over the past couple of weeks and although it’s been hectic – particularly the last few days – it’s been fun and a welcome break from the tedium of my usual duties. The food festival was supposed to be Katey-Louise’s baby but, as she failed to even register for it, Neville passed it on to me and Adam. Not that I minded – an excuse to work with Adam is welcome in my books. We’ve been an official couple for over a month now but managing to spend time together has still been an issue due to my ill-thought-out web of lies.
‘I need to find the loos,’ Katey-Louise says as Adam and I lug boxes from the van. ‘I’m desperate.’ She hops around a bit to demonstrate before scuttling away.
‘I bet we don’t see her until we’ve set everything up,’ Adam says as we heave the boxes inside the marquee.
‘I wouldn’t be surprised if we don’t see her for the rest of the day.’ I plonk a heavy box of mismatched china cups and saucers by our stall and stretch out my spine.