London Actually Read online

  London, Actually

  London Romance Series, Book Five

  Clare Lydon

  Contents

  Also by Clare Lydon

  Dedication

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Chapter 47

  Chapter 48

  Chapter 49

  Would You Consider Leaving Me A Review?

  Acknowledgements

  Also By Clare Lydon

  Want More Of The London Romance Series?

  Made In London: Chapter One

  First Edition October 2018

  Published by Custard Books

  Copyright © 2018 Clare Lydon

  ISBN: 978-1-912019-93-9

  Cover Design: Kevin Pruitt

  Editor: Kelli Collins

  * * *

  Find out more at: www.clarelydon.co.uk

  Follow me on Twitter: @clarelydon

  Follow me on Instagram: @clarefic

  * * *

  All rights reserved. This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner without the express permission of the author.

  * * *

  This is a work of fiction. All characters & happenings in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to real persons (living or dead), locales or events is purely coincidental.

  Also by Clare Lydon

  London Romance Series

  London Calling (Book One)

  This London Love (Book Two)

  A Girl Called London (Book Three)

  The London Of Us (Book Four)

  Made In London (Book Six)

  Other Novels

  The Long Weekend

  Nothing To Lose: A Lesbian Romance

  Twice In A Lifetime

  Once Upon A Princess

  You’re My Kind

  A Taste Of Love

  All I Want Series

  All I Want For Christmas (Book One)

  All I Want For Valentine’s (Book Two)

  All I Want For Spring (Book Three)

  All I Want For Summer (Book Four)

  All I Want For Autumn (Book Five)

  All I Want Forever (Book Six)

  Boxsets

  London Romance Series, Books 1-3

  London Romance Series, Books 4-6

  London Romance Series, Books 1-6

  All I Want Series, Books 1-3

  All I Want Series, Books 4-6

  All I Want Series, Books 1-6

  * * *

  Fancy a free lesbian romance? If you do, click this link to grab your copy of It Had To Be You now!

  For Laura Kingsley, RIP.

  Chapter 1

  If Cleo Nightingale had to list her biggest irritants, her top three would be a slam dunk. In no particular order:

  1 - Weddings.

  2 - Her brother, Duncan.

  3 - Saturdays that involved number one and number two.

  Saturdays like today.

  She rapped her knuckle on the door of his bedroom three times and waited for a response. Strictly speaking, it was her spare room and not his bedroom. For the moment, though, it was Duncan’s — ever since Michelle had turfed him out.

  No answer.

  She knocked again. “Duncan.” Her tone was getting irritated.

  “Just go without me!” he shouted through the wood. “Why would I want to go to a fucking wedding when I know relationships don’t work, anyway?” The door opened and Duncan peered out, his eyes bloodshot, his face pale, his dark hair sticking up at all angles. He looked like someone who’d drunk two bottles of wine the previous night, and perhaps a bit of whisky on top.

  Mainly because he had.

  “You know what I should do?”

  She took a step back when she smelt his breath, a heady mix of spite and battery acid.

  “Do enlighten me,” Cleo said, waiting for her brother’s words of wisdom. This should be good; she could see his face souring as he composed the words in his head.

  “I should turn up at the door of the church with a banner saying ‘Don’t do it, it’s all a bloody con’. Bang on the glass like Dustin Hoffman in The Graduate.”

  “They’re getting married in a hotel.” She tried not to smile too wide. “Look. I get it — I really do. Having your wife leave you sucks. You’re preaching to the choir. However, we’ve told Fionn we’re going to this wedding, and seeing as she’s one of our oldest and dearest friends, don’t you think we should? Even if you don’t want to go, do it for me. You’re crashing in my spare room, eating my food and drinking my wine, so think of it as doing something in return. Plus, Mum and Dad are going, so they’re going to expect us to be there, too.”

  He winced. “Facing Mum and Dad is not top of my to-do list when my life is up shit creek.”

  She sucked on the inside of her cheek, leaning on the hallway wall. He was acting like the baby she so vividly remembered crashing into her life when she was five years old, and then weeing in her Polly Pocket when he was old enough to walk.

  “You know what I mean. I’m saying that I want to go today, and you’re my plus one. I’ve been to enough weddings solo, and I’d prefer to have you as my escort.” She raked a hand through her still-knotty hair. “So for me, please. Jump in the shower, iron your shirt and be my knight in shining armour.”

  “You’re not normally fond of knights in shining armour.”

  “I’m all for them, so long as I don’t have to sleep with them.”

  Duncan sighed, folding his arms across his chest and blowing a raspberry. “Okay, you win. I’ll get showered and polish my suit of armour. I’ll need it to ward off the evil spirits of marriage.”

  She leaned over and kissed his cheek. “Thanks.” She pulled back before he could breathe his angry dragon breath anywhere near her. “And while you’re in the shower, try to think happy thoughts. I want a smiling Duncan by my side, not a snarly one.”

  “I’ll see what I can do,” he said, standing up straight and yawning as he spoke, arms stretched over his head. “But tell me, why are you so bloody keen to go to a wedding? Marriage has hardly been kind to you, either, Mrs Divorced Before You’re 40.”

  Cleo flinched; she knew she wasn’t special, just another statistic, but when he put it like that it sounded so much worse. For today, though, she was determined not to think about herself and just be happy for Fionn. Because who knew, maybe it would work out for her? Maybe she would be one of the lucky ones, the ones who beamed when they spoke about their partners.

  It wasn’t something that had happened to her, nor l
ately, to her brother.

  “Let’s just say it’s not so much the marriage, more seeing everyone again — all Fionn’s family and friends. Plus, it’s food I don’t have to cook and wine I don’t have to buy, so it gets a thumbs-up from me.”

  Chapter 2

  Becca Cramer might be the youngest of five sisters, but often, she felt like she was the lone sensible voice in the family. So far today, her sister Siobhan had laddered her tights and acted as if this was the literal end of the world (it wasn’t). Her sister Ruth had drunk too much wine before dessert and nearly fallen off her chair.

  Finally, her sister Rachel — the closest in age and also a lesbian — had spent the entire day gazing at her girlfriend, Alice, even though they’d been going out for over six months and so really should be over that part of their relationship by now.

  Frankly, Becca had enough love vibes surrounding her today, seeing as she was at the wedding of her cousin Fionn, who was marrying Ryan, a Chelsea fan. Becca was trying not to hold that against him.

  The main source of amusement so far had come from Ryan’s joint best men, pleasingly called Dave, Gaz and Tim. Having three best men, you’d think things would run smoothly — but that would mean you hadn’t factored in alcohol and nerves.

  Having Irish heritage, Becca had been to many (boozy) weddings, and in that time, she could count on her hand the amount of decent speeches she’d heard. Normally because the speech-givers were either crippled with nerves or just plain pissed. This wedding had hit the jackpot of both. Bingo!

  Apparently, Ryan had given his best men gifts of hip flasks with their names engraved on them, and filled the flasks with a nice single malt. To calm their nerves, the best men had downed all the single malt. When the time came to deliver their speeches, they’d belly-flopped spectacularly, the splash as they hit the water sending ripples all around the room.

  On the upside, the speeches had been short and the drinks flowing — two ingredients that could save any occasion, in Becca’s humble opinion.

  They were now at that part of the day where they were waiting for desserts, and the tables were getting restless. Becca was keeping an eye on her watch, her stomach gurgling in preparation for her upcoming chocolate fondant.

  Could she make it to Soho for a final few drinks later? It depended if she could slip away without offending too many people — or worse, alerting Rachel and Alice, because then they might want to come, too. No offence to her sister and her girlfriend, both of whom she loved dearly, but they were a little full-on right now. All her friends thought it was way cool she had a lesbian sister. They didn’t know the reality.

  “Is this going to be you two, soon?” That was her cousin, April — her lips gleaming pink — leaning over and addressing Rachel and Alice.

  In response, the pair looked at each other with loved-up grins on their faces, shrugging their shoulders like they’d never given it a second thought.

  Becca knew the truth. If Rachel and Alice didn’t spend half their time in bed picking out names for their future children and/or pets, she’d be amazed.

  “Not quite yet,” Rachel replied. “But if we do, you’ll be the first to know.”

  “Make sure I am,” April said, her cheeks alive with Pinot Grigio splotch. “I haven’t been to a gay wedding yet, so no leaving me out.”

  “Gay wedding, straight wedding, they’re all the same. Doomed.”

  Becca’s ears pricked up. Now here was something she could work with.

  “They all end in tears, mark my words,” continued the man who’d been introduced to the table as Duncan, and ever since had been drinking more than his fair share of red wine. It was only 5pm, but Duncan already had red-wine lips, along with stained front teeth. He refilled his glass one more time, as the woman next to him put her mouth to his ear and a hand to his arm.

  Duncan waved her away. “I’m not speaking that loudly,” he said, at a volume that made a woman at the next table turn her head.

  “Duncan!”

  The woman berating Duncan was his sister, Cleo — someone who had caught Becca’s attention from the moment she’d introduced herself to the table and sat down next to Alice. She was, according to Rachel, an old neighbour of the bride. Cleo and Duncan had grown up living next door to Fionn, but Duncan was clearly not that pleased to be here.

  Becca was glad Cleo had made the effort, though, as it never hurt to have a little eye candy at your table, did it? Cleo was dressed in black trousers, black shirt and black brogues, and she presented as some sort of stealth character from a Marvel movie, a mass of cheekbones, burnt amber hair and deep brown eyes, splashed with the colour and shine of autumnal conkers.

  She was saying something else in Duncan’s ear now, and Duncan was rolling his eyes.

  Becca was intrigued by Cleo, and she liked Duncan very much. Duncan was already drunk, and so already entertaining. Other people’s family being drunk and dramatic was so much more fun than her own.

  “Every time someone mentions love in the next speech, we should drink.” Duncan held up his glass, trying to stand up but being held down by Cleo. “Who’s with me?”

  Becca grinned. “I am,” she said, refilling her glass.

  Rachel turned and rolled her eyes. “Play nicely.”

  Becca gave her a look. “Relax,” she told her sister, catching Duncan’s eye and giving him a grin. “It’s just a drinking game. You’ve never played one of those at a wedding before?”

  Becca knew the answer already as she turned away. Rachel was still clearly on best behaviour mode when it came to Alice.

  However, out of the corner of Becca’s eye, she spied Alice filling her wine glass and holding it up. “I’m in!”

  Rachel tilted her head back in defeat.

  “Are you down on love, too?” Duncan asked Becca, reaching over Cleo to claim her uneaten bread roll.

  Cleo was either not that hungry or else she was in the anti-carbs brigade. Becca would lay bets it was the latter.

  Cleo watched her brother with a trained eye, something Becca was sure she’d done many times before.

  Becca shrugged. “Not exactly, I’m just taking a year off, seeing life from a different perspective.” Seeing Rachel’s gaze return her way, Becca held up a hand. “That doesn’t mean to say I don’t think Fionn and Ryan aren’t perfect for each other — they could be the match of the century for all I know. I just think weddings are a little… over the top sometimes.”

  “Says the wedding planner,” Rachel said, one eyebrow raised.

  Becca gave her a look. “I never said I didn’t want to make money out of it, I just don’t want to get married right now. That’s not a crime.”

  Duncan leaned forward, his left elbow landing in a butter pat. He either didn’t notice or he was ignoring it.

  “It’s not a crime — it’s the sensible option. Take it from someone whose wife left him because he doesn’t have enough courage to try new things,” he told Becca. “And there was me thinking it was all about ‘in good times and in bad’.” He paused. “Actually, I applaud you not wanting to take part in the whole charade.” And he began to do just that, until Cleo clamped a hand over his.

  “No clapping.” Her tone was firm and sure, and Duncan obeyed.

  Becca imagined most people had the same reaction. Cleo’s voice was business casual with a hint of sweet, insistent and firm. If Cleo whispered something in her ear, Becca knew she’d obey.

  Duncan reacted by cupping his mouth. “I’m not allowed to applaud you, but I do. On the inside.” He banged his chest like a war cry.

  A laugh bubbled up in Becca’s throat, but she swallowed it down as their attention was drawn to her uncle John, Fionn’s dad, getting up to speak. She sat up straight, giving Duncan a sly grin, her eyes meeting Cleo’s as they pulled away, getting caught there momentarily.

  Becca let her gaze settle, as did Cleo, and for a moment, nobody breathed. She inclined her wine glass, eyebrow raised. Cleo did the same, their glasses like pistols
, but nobody was going to shoot.

  Uncle John applying his fingertip to the mic broke the spell, a loud ‘tap, tap, tap’ reverberating around the room.

  Becca’s gaze slid to the table, then back up to Cleo. She was still looking, her stare inquisitive, her features soft.

  Cleo was making Becca a little fuzzy, and heat rose to her cheeks as she twisted to get a view of her uncle, glad to have a shift of focus for a few minutes. She grabbed a glass of water her cousin April had poured for her and glugged it down in one. She’d probably drunk too much red wine already and she shouldn’t be egged on by Duncan. Pacing was what was needed.

  “As most of you know, there’s one major ingredient that has brought us here to this moment with Fionn and Ryan — and that is, overwhelmingly, love,” Uncle John began.

  “Hey!”

  Becca turned, to see Duncan holding up his wine glass, along with Alice. “He said love, you have to drink!”

  Becca flicked her gaze to Alice, who was already drinking; to Duncan who had his glass raised and ready; and then to Cleo, who was watching the whole scenario play out with an air of mild amusement. Becca gave her one last glance, which Cleo returned, and then grabbed her glass and took a sip, as Duncan drained his. She could support Duncan and not get wasted, she was sure of that.