Free The Wedding Diary (Choc Lit) by Margaret James Page B

why don’t you—’
    ‘Get a grip?’
    ‘I was going to say, why don’t you come and have a drink? You sound like you could do with one.’
    Cat looked at him again and saw he was concerned – that although he looked so serious and had clearly never learned to smile like other people did, that his dark eyes were kind. ‘Yes,’ she admitted. ‘Yes, perhaps I could.’
    ‘Do you know any decent pubs round here?’
    ‘There’s a very nice one round the corner, quite s-smart for Walthamstow.’
    ‘You think they’ll let me in?’ Adam glanced down at his torn and faded jeans and at his workman’s boots, which were scuffed and crusted with yellow Cotswold mud.
    ‘There’s a scraper in the yard,’ said Cat. ‘If you get the worst off, I’ll finish locking up, and we can go.’
    ‘Okay,’ said Adam and went to find the scraper.
    As Cat pulled on her coat, she thought, I shouldn’t be going drinking with this man. What if, as she and Adam Lawley came out of the yard, Jack himself came walking up the road?
    What if he was on his way back home, to tell her he’d been stupid, and say could she forgive him, and that of course he loved his darling Cat, of course they would get married?
    What if he saw her with another man – would he have a fit?
    Yes, he just might.
    Jack always liked a drama – a fight, a scene, a row.
    But Adam Lawley had been so sweet, so kind, and she so didn’t want to be alone. The company of an undemanding stranger she probably wouldn’t ever meet again – she’d send Tess out to see him when he came to fetch his chimneys – was somehow very appealing. After all, he didn’t know that over the past day or two he’d been filling up her psychic void.
    What the hell, she thought. She grabbed her bag and shoved the office keys into her pocket.
    The Red Lion was an old Victorian pub which hadn’t been done up, and Cat loved it to bits. She especially loved the beautiful ceramic tiles and the well-polished wood and gleaming brass. Barry had had his eye on all the fitments for more than a decade, but the current landlord had said he’d never sell.
    ‘What must you think of me?’ said Cat, as she and Adam Lawley walked into the saloon.
    ‘I think you need a drink,’ said Adam calmly. ‘I was also thinking it was time to have a pint. But I don’t like going into pubs all by myself.’
    ‘Why, do lonely ladies sidle up and bother you?’
    ‘All the time,’ said Adam. ‘I have to beat them off. How are you feeling now?’
    ‘A little better, thanks.’
    ‘What would you like to drink?’
    ‘A tonic water, please, with ice and lemon,’ Cat replied. ‘Diet if they have it, doesn’t matter if they don’t.’
    ‘What about a slug of gin in it?’
    ‘I don’t like gin.’
    ‘Or a shot of vodka?’
    ‘Just a tonic water, honestly.’ Cat thought, I’m not going down that route. I’m not going to be one of those women who weeps pure ethanol. I’m done with weeping, anyway. What happened in the yard was just a blip, a little aberration, and now I’m fine again. ‘But don’t forget the ice and slice.’
    ‘Okay,’ said Adam. ‘You go and sit down.’
    When he brought the drinks, Cat found her purse and asked how much she owed him.
    ‘I don’t remember what he charged me,’ he replied.
    ‘All right, I’ll get the next ones.’ She took a sip of tonic water. ‘Thank you, Mr Lawley.’
    ‘Adam.’
    ‘Thank you, Adam.’
    ‘You’re more than welcome, Cat – if I may call you Cat?’
    ‘Of course you may.’
    ‘So what’s the problem? Your mother giving you grief about the catering arrangements, the wording of the wedding invitations? Mutiny among the pageboys, bridesmaids disagreeing about their outfits? Or just pre-wedding nerves?’
    ‘No pre-wedding nerves, because there isn’t going to be a wedding!’
    Then, in spite of making a big effort not to cry, Cat found she was sobbing all over Adam Lawley, all over again.
    Adam was silent for a minute, then he