Page 14

Chapter Fourteen

Leon

I’m not sure that I’m quite ready to tackle Francesca’s whole ‘emotional affair’ mess with my soon-to-be brother-in-law, but I can’t deny I’m relieved that she’s back; it gets Gemma off my back for now.

She can be like a dog with a bone, so I’m sure she won’t forget that thread of conversation any time soon, but at least I have some breathing space.

Admitting the truth – that collectively, we don’t like Marcus, or the person Kayleigh is with him – is harder than I thought. A lot harder.

I’m not sure how I’m going to manage to say any of it to Kay herself, when it’s tough enough trying to vocalise it to someone who already sees that Marcus isn’t some saint.

As for Francesca – I don’t even know where to start. I can’t help but acknowledge that it’s Marcus who sends the borderline-flirtatious selfies, Marcus adding kisses to the end of his texts, Marcus keeping the conversation going when he could easily just let it die off.

Francesca’s not the only guilty party, but there’s got to be a good reason Kayleigh called her a harpy , right?

Luckily, I get a few moments to stew over all that as she plonks some takeaway coffee cups down on the table and then doles them out to us. She glances at me as she pushes one in front of me, along with a couple of sugar packets.

‘Milk and two sugars, right?’

‘Uh, y-yeah.’

She must’ve heard me ordering earlier. I’m surprised she noticed the sugar packets I dumped in. I have been trying to cut them down, but … if ever there’s an excuse to indulge a bit, isn’t it for a wedding?

Even one you wished wasn’t happening?

Maybe especially then.

‘Oat milk, two vanilla shots,’ she adds, to Gemma, who grins and says, ‘Thanks, hon,’ as if they’re best mates, and she didn’t just out Francesca for flirting with an almost-married man.

I’m surprised Francesca even bothered to get us drinks. I thought she was just … storming off.

I must get a look on my face, because she says sharply, ‘It’s not poisoned.’

‘Didn’t think it was.’ Although …

No, that seems like more of a Gemma scheme, if anybody was going to do it.

As I dump the sugar packets into my tea, Francesca sits down and looks between me and Gemma, then at the phone.

Her spine is ramrod-straight even as she picks at her nail varnish, making her look like she’s been called into the headmaster’s office, not sure if she’s allowed her phone back after getting caught using it in class or something.

Gemma takes a noisy sip of her drink and smacks her lips.

‘So, have you shagged?’

Francesca makes a sort of choking noise, face flushing, and stammers until Gemma cuts in, ‘That doesn’t sound a lot like a no .’

‘We haven’t – I mean … It’s not like nothing happened,’ she says, ‘but it was before he even met Kayleigh. Everyone at the office always expected us to get together, but then obviously she came on the scene, and it’s not like Marcus and I could just stop …

’ A guilty glance at the phone, then a panicked, plaintive look at each of us.

Her eyes are huge, and framed by thick, long lashes.

‘Nothing’s happened since then. I knew he was with somebody, and—’

‘Didn’t stop you texting him, though,’ Gemma points out.

‘We’d just, you know, message at work sometimes, meet up for lunch or go to the pub with everyone after work … He asked for my number, for the record.’ Francesca’s chest puffs out, her eyes shining with emotion now. ‘To make sure I got home safe, after a night out got a bit rowdy.’

I don’t know why she seems proud of that. Why she says it like it’s some badge of honour, some accomplishment to brag about. Gemma pulls a face, though, obviously hearing something I don’t, like she did with the texts.

If Francesca didn’t look so worked up, I’d think Gemma was just pulling my leg.

But Marcus’s ‘friend’ barrels on, the words pouring out of her now, and I don’t think we could shut her up if we tried.

‘I haven’t been pursuing him, if that’s what you’re thinking.

I’d never go after someone in a relationship like that.

We were friends before, and now we’re friends again, but – but we were more than that, once, and we missed our chance, we both moved on with our lives …

But that’s only because he thought I rejected him .

This whole thing was just – it was one stupid moment, one wild miscommunication that spiralled out of control, and now … ’

Gemma’s mouth is slack, hanging wide open; she’s so stunned I don’t think she even blinks.

I’m not sure I understand what I’m hearing. Or – not sure I believe it, rather.

Francesca’s on a roll, though, and says, ‘We have a real connection , and you can’t just ignore that, it doesn’t just go away, even if we’ve both tried, and now – now he’s marrying someone else, and he doesn’t even know I feel the same way about him as he does about me, and he has to know, it’s my last chance to tell him, and he—’

‘Whoa, whoa, hold up.’ Gemma recovers first, places both palms flat on the table, peering over the top of her glasses. ‘You think he’s in love with you?’

Francesca blushes a deeper shade of red, which gives her away. Yes .

‘Ohmigod,’ Gemma breathes. ‘Oh – my – God .’

I remember all the things I’ve heard second-hand about Francesca.

That she practically stalks Marcus around the office and always shows up uninvited to after-work drinks, laughing at his jokes and vying for his attention.

That she’s too friendly with him when he’s invited her to get-togethers with other colleagues and Kayleigh’s there, says things like how they’re so in sync with each other, really get each other, makes sure she sits next to him.

Maybe all those things are true.

Marcus has always maintained that it’s sad and pathetic but it’s nothing, he’s above it, it’s a joke. He’s not interested, doesn’t give her the time of day outside of sharing mutual friends at work and being nice to her around the office.

But those texts .

He wouldn’t bother replying if he didn’t care. He wouldn’t be so chatty and send selfies and tell her all about his day if he wasn’t interested on some level.

So maybe all those things I’ve heard about Francesca are true.

But – maybe all the things she’s telling us now are, too.

And she sits there, back straight, shoulders squared, all steady and set, because she really believes … he’s in love with her. Like she’s in love with him. Like she thinks she’s the main character in a romcom or something.

It’s so completely ridiculous that I snort, and say, ‘So, what, you’re going to race to the wedding and yell ‘I object!’ and tell him he can’t marry my sister because he should marry you instead, and the two of you will ride off into the sunset, happily ever after?’

‘I – n-no, that’s not … Well, I—’

‘Ohmigod,’ Gemma gasps. ‘It is, isn’t it? That’s totally what you’re planning to do. You’re going to tell him . You’re going to try to break up the wedding.’

Francesca blushes to the roots of her brown hair and I wait for Gemma to erupt – even before she’s had a chance to digest this news, I can already see her leaping to her feet and screaming at Francesca – How dare you/that’s my best friend/what world are you living in – and probably ending up getting security called to calm her down for causing such a scene …

But instead, she throws back her head, opens her mouth wide, and lets out a cackle like she’s auditioning for Hocus Pocus . She laughs so hard there are tears streaming down her cheeks, and she bends forward, clutching her sides and wheezing.

I look at Francesca, who looks at me, equally confused.

And I know I should say something. No matter what Gemma’s reaction is, I should be outraged, too, should be jumping to berate Francesca and tell her to back off, this is my sister’s fiancé she’s talking about, my sister’s wedding she’s planning to ruin.

Would that … be so bad, though?

I mean, if there was any kind of sure-fire way to make Kayleigh see what a narcissistic, callous prat she’s engaged to, it’s by having him jilt her at the altar for the girl he’s always telling her ‘not to worry about’.

Which would be horrible, and heartbreaking, and devastating, yes, but … necessary ?

We’d all be there to help her pick up the pieces, of course, and reassure her that it’s for the best. Him running off with someone else would be a good excuse for us all to hate him until Kayleigh’s over him enough to stomach hearing all the other ways he wasn’t right for her.

Francesca sucks in a breath, as if to brace herself for whatever rage I’m going to launch at her in my sister’s defence. Next to me, Gemma is still gasping for breath, laughing too hard to say more than a broken syllable or two at a time.

And I sit back in my chair, arms crossed, and say, ‘To hell with it. Rather you than Kayleigh. You’re welcome to the bastard.’

Gemma starts howling with laughter all over again.