Runaway Bride: A laugh out loud funny and feel good rom com. Mary Baker Jayne
‘Anything.’
Jack tapped the lad’s arm as he turned to go to the kitchen. ‘And can you ask the chef to serve the gravy properly, not in one of those daft pipette things? She wants to eat, not perform animal husbandry.’
‘All right, no need to be a diva about it,’ Ryan muttered as he headed off to break the bad news to the chef.
‘Gentrification. You can’t get away from it,’ Jack said with a smile when Ryan had gone. ‘So you want to join me?’
‘Are you alone?’
‘Yep. Just me and Sandy.’
‘Oh. Okay.’
I followed him to a little table, a newspaper spread over it, and took a seat opposite. Jack folded up the paper and pushed it to one side.
‘Never thought I’d see you again,’ I said. ‘What’re you doing here?’
‘I could ask you the same question.’ He nodded at young Ryan behind the bar. ‘Ryan’s dad Matty is an old friend. Another Irishman from my neck of the woods. I always stop by when I’m in the area.’ He scanned me with a concerned gaze. ‘You look a bit more dishevelled than the last time I saw you.’
‘Mmm. Slid down a drainpipe. It wasn’t nearly as cool as it looks in Ghostbusters.’ I held up my hands to show him the red, tender skin, spots of blood standing out against it where the jagged old pipe had torn into the flesh.
‘Shit! What happened?’
‘My aunty, she… she bloody Landoed me, Jack. Called my mum to take me home when I’d told her I wouldn’t go back.’ I gave my head an angry shake. ‘I can’t believe she did that to me. Out of everyone, she was… God.’ I held back a sob. ‘I’m a total mess.’
Aunty Julia’s betrayal probably would’ve stung a lot harder if it wasn’t for everything else that’d happened that day. Still, it gnawed, with a dull but steady intensity. Since Dad had passed away, she’d been the one person I’d always believed I could rely on in a crisis.
‘So you ran away again then.’ Jack’s tone was concerned, but it was calm too. No nonsense, it said. I liked it.
‘Yeah. I’m getting pretty expert at it.’
‘Quite the adventure you’re having today.’ He took my hands in his to examine the palms. ‘These are really sore, Kitty. You should get something on them.’
‘Haven’t had time to think about that,’ I said, gingerly lifting my wine glass to my lips with my fingertips. On an empty stomach, the alcohol was going straight to my head, making my brain fluffy. Good.
‘They could use some antiseptic. You don’t want the cuts to get infected.’
‘Well, hopefully they’ll have something at the youth hostel.’
‘What youth hostel?’
‘There’s one near here, isn’t there?’
‘About ten miles away, but I doubt you’ll get a bed if you haven’t booked in. They fill up fast in the Lakes.’
‘Of course they do,’ I muttered to myself. ‘Why wouldn’t they? Perfect end to a perfect day.’
‘So was that your plan? Youth hostelling?’
‘Haven’t really got a plan. I just wanted a bed for a couple of days, till I could get something sorted.’
‘Such as?’
I sighed. ‘God knows. There’s a few old friends I could ring round. One of them must have a sofa I can kip on for a bit.’
‘And then what will you do?’
‘Start again.’ I tried to focus on the open fire, which had gone a bit blurry. ‘Suppose I’d need a job first. And then… well, one day at a time.’
‘Hmm.’
He looked concerned, but before we could discuss it any further, Ryan came over with a steaming plate of food.
The Cumberland sausage smelled amazing, the rich fragrance of red wine gravy and roast onions taunting my poor growling tummy. The pain in my palms forced me to eat slowly this time, and I savoured every mouthful. By the time I’d half-demolished an enormous, fluffy Yorkshire and nearly finished my wine, my emotional state felt ever so slightly more stable. Or it would’ve done, if it wasn’t for the nagging worry that in just a few hours I was going to officially join the ranks of Britain’s rough sleepers.
‘Thanks for this, Jack,’ I said through a mouthful of Yorkshire pud. ‘Don’t know what I would’ve done without you today.’
‘So where will you sleep?’
‘No idea,’ I admitted. ‘Can’t afford a B&B. Bus shelter, probably.’
‘Now come on.’ He glanced at my bare arms and shoulders. ‘You’d be a popsicle by morning.’
It was unseasonably chilly for May. I shuffled my chair ever so slightly closer to the open fire.
‘I’ll live,’ I muttered.
‘And what about tomorrow night? And the one after that?’
‘I’ll… something’ll turn up. Like I said, I’ve got a few friends I can try.’ I didn’t have a mobile, but there was bound to be a phone box somewhere in town.
‘You’re really positive you can’t go home?’ Jack asked.
‘I’m never going home.’ I glared at the Yorkshire pud, the symbol of my people, and ripped into it with my fork. ‘I’d rather sleep rough.’
‘I couldn’t let you do that.’
I glanced up at him. Concern was etched all over his features. It was reassuring, feeling there was someone looking out for me. Instinctively I started eating more slowly, fearing the inevitable moment when our impromptu dinner date would be over and the kind stranger who’d twice come to my rescue now would disappear out of my life for good.
‘Why’re you being so nice to me, Jack?’ I asked. ‘You only met me a few hours ago.’
He shrugged. ‘Always been a sucker for a damsel in distress.’ He jerked his head towards Sandy, spread-eagled at his feet like a dogskin rug – the best she could probably manage with a tummy full of puppies. ‘That’s how I ended up with her ladyship here. Isn’t it, eh, old girl?’ He leaned down to tickle her between the ears.
‘What, she was a damsel in distress?’
‘In her little doggy way. I picked her up as a stray pup, living rough on the streets of Leeds. Been mistreated, I’d guess from the state of her. Abandoned, or run away from home.’ He quirked an eyebrow. ‘Sound familiar?’
‘Heh. A bit.’
‘That’s more like it,’ Jack said as I mopped up my remaining gravy with the last mouthful of Yorkshire pud. ‘You look a bit more human now.’
‘Yeah, I feel a lot better. Thanks, Jack.’
‘Dessert?’
‘Kitchen’s closed, isn’t it?’
‘Ryan’ll sort it, long as I ask nicely. Sticky toffee pudding? Local delicacy, you know.’
‘I’m fine, honestly.’
‘Ice cream on the side?’
‘No, Jack. It’s too naughty.’
‘Right so.’ He beckoned to Ryan. ‘I’ll just ask for my usual two portions then, at the risk of ruining my girlish figure. And if you change your mind, I’m sure I can spare one.’
He bloody did as well, he got two portions. Ten minutes later, he’d twisted my arm with no great