Fool's Errand
Chapter 1

Copyright© 2019 by TonySpencer

“Damn it!” Caroline Lyndsey exclaimed, after clicking ‘end’ on her phone following her customary weekly call to keep in touch with her mother.

“What’s up, Sweetheart?” her friend Josh asked, looking up from his morning newspaper, “Trouble at home?”

“No, not really, it’s just that my mum and dad are at it again.”

“At it?” Josh asked and self-answered, “well, Sweetheart, you know how it is, once the kiddies have left home...”

“It’s not that!” she swatted him across the arm. “My parents aren’t normal people, they are jokers. And I am sick of it.”

“Jokers?”

“Practical jokers. April Foolers. Every year about late February or early March they try something to set the scene ready to trick my brother and me. Last year was the straw that broke the camel’s back.”

“Last year?”

“When they pretended to split up and get a divorce? Remember?”

“Look, sweet Caroline, I may be your best friend-with-benefits, and always there whenever you’re between proper boyfriends, but this time last year, remember, you were still well in with Richard.”

“Oh yeah, Richard the Turd, ugh, I am so over him!” Caroline’s eyes narrowed as she almost spat out the sentence.

“And ever since you dropped Richard, as you and I are never gonna be officially,” here he gestured ‘bunny ears’ with his fingers, “‘boyfriend/girlfriend’, I’m the lucky bugger’s been reaping the friendship with benefits thing, but you have never said anything to me before about your parents splitting. So, spill the beans, ‘girlfriend’!”

“Huh! If you knew my Mum was available on the market again, you’d be sniffing round there before the ink on the decree was dry.”

“You know I would, and as well as your Mum being gorgeous, your Daddy ain’t far behind.”

Caroline looked over Josh again, thinking ‘I mean, why wasn’t he my boyfriend? He was always cute, even with his scratchy morning beard and tangled bed hair. He was great company with exactly the wanton sense of fun I needed after Richard had pretty well destroyed my self-confidence. And the sex with Josh was always satisfyingly fresh and out of this world. But we’re more like comfortable old shoes, we’ve known each other since we were six years old and we’re still the best of friends. And I’ve always known that Josh’s a slut, with long-term interests still hovered between bi-curiousity and plenty of heterosexual variety, so we both knew that we could never live together exclusively for very long. And I have to admit I’m still looking for that elusive Mr Right.’

“Right, ‘boyfriend’,” she replied, “I still can’t believe I’ve never told you about Mum and Dad and all their practical jokes before.”

“Maybe we never connected at this time of year before, sweetheart.”

“Anyway, they just love to make ‘April Fools’ of Mason and me and tell us so on April the First.”

“Oh, your Mason’s so cute, it’s a shame that Marilyn burned him so badly while he was in Afghanistan.”

“Yeah, we’d all wish he’d snap out of it and get with the programme of producing grandchildren for Mum and Dad and take the pressure off me. Maybe then, Mum would be so busy knitting woolly booties she wouldn’t have time to think up the next nonsense project to wind me up with.”

“So, what’s she plotting for this coming April Fools Day?” Josh asked, folding his newspaper over to give her his full attention, “And I cannot believe you would fall for a scam based on Sofia and Alan splitting, I mean, they are like Tweedledee and Tweedledum, two sides of the same coin!”

“Well, she’s devious, my Mum. She plants little ideas early and lets them stew. Never outright, just innocent looking little hints that she disguises or denies. Last year she started early in January, saying that for their summer holidays she was thinking of going to Littlehampton —”

“They always go abroad, don’t they?”

“Exactly, Spain usually, and she said ‘she was thinking of going’ rather than ‘we’ and went on to say she didn’t look forward to driving that far.”

“She hates driving, your mum,” Josh recalled, “always used to, anyway. She used to terrify us on the school run.”

“Just what I said to her, and she quickly changed it around to ‘we’ and explained that Dad wasn’t getting the overtime, what with cutbacks, couldn’t afford abroad so they were cutting down on expenditure. Then the next week she mentioned downsizing the house, then the following week she talked of the shocking price of one-bed property locally; then when I asked how Dad was, she retorted that I’d have to ask HIM if I wanted to know. It was relentless, one tiny drip at a time, like water torture.”

“Hehe, I do love the devil in your Mum.”

“When Richard and I visited them in February, Mum and Dad never spoke to one another the whole time and the atmosphere was frosty. So I thought maybe they really were splitting up. I mean, at that date I wasn’t even thinking of April Fool’s Day.”

“What did Mason think?”

“He wasn’t worried, at first, until he visited and he noticed that frosty atmosphere towards one another. But even then, he told me not to worry, that Mum was yanking my chain as she always does. I wanted to relax and believe Mason but then they started leaving house and apartment leaflets around the house, all one bedroom places. And, when both my brother and I visited for Easter weekend there was a ‘for sale’ sign lying down behind the wall in the front garden, like they had just removed it temporarily for our brief visit and made a bad job of hiding it.”

“Sneaky.”

“Yeah, right. Then on the first of April they invited us over for brunch, because they ‘had an announcement to make’.”

“And what was that, sweetie?”

“April bloody Fool! Grrrr!”

“So, what exactly are they trying on this year?” Josh asked, “I your chat with Mother?”

“She subtly threw in a comment about a kid living around the corner with cancer.”

“So?”

“I don’t know this kid or the parents, I don’t even know if they really exist or not. But I’m sure that she’s going to act like she’s going to go on about shaving her head in solidarity and persuade me and Mason to do likewise, and it’ll all be an April Fool.”

“Well, two can play at that game.” Josh grinned like a Cheshire Cat.

“How? What are you thinking of?”

“How about we introduce your parents to Mason’s brand new absolutely fabulous fiancée?”

“What fiancée?” Caroline exclaimed. “Mason is a confirmed bachelor. He hasn’t even had a casual girlfriend since Marilyn did the dirty on him, and that was a dozen or more years ago.”

“So, if he suddenly turned up with a stunningly beautiful fiancée, wearing a flash thirty grand engagement ring and all...”

“What the?!” Caroline exclaimed, but she hesitated as her mind ticked over, and then she smiled. “OK, smartypants, I see where you are going with this, but ... who would do it and why would they?”

“I’ll tell you, girlfriend. Now, listen carefully, because you have not yet heard the best part of this.”


Mason Lyndsey was halfway around his town centre postal route when his sister Caroline called. He knew it was her as she had downloaded a distinctive ring on his phone for her entry when he first showed it to her. He was eight years older than his half-sister and had always felt protective of her, so he answered it immediately.

After hanging up and continuing his delivery round, he shook his head. His mother only persisted with these April Fool jokes because Caroline rose like a starving salmon to the bait every single time. If only she would just shrug it off as a harmless joke like he and his stepfather did, this would die out like it should have done long ago. Now, the revenge that Caroline proposed was preposterous, but, as he hated letting his little Sis down, he agreed to go along with it. All Caroline now had to do was set it all up.

“Honestly,” he said out loud for no-one in particular, “a marriage union between a guy called Mason Lyndsey and a chick by the name of Lyndsey Mason? Even Mum’ll never be daft enough to fall for that one!”


Gareth Belvedere stretched as he peered at his bedside clock with just one eye open. He couldn’t see the time clearly, his single open eyeball felt smeary with alcohol induced sleep. He rubbed that eye, not even daring to open the other, and squinted at the clock again. Ten past seven. He groaned, ten past seven on a Saturday.

“Bugger,” he thought, “too bloody early to get up and too bloody late to go back to sleep.”

He wasn’t sure what had woken him up. He usually slept in on Saturdays, until at least nine o’clock. He decided to get up anyway. He had a rugby match this afternoon and they were due to meet up at noon at The Cricketers pub on the bypass, as it was an away match this time around.

He rubbed the other eye, the one that was tightly gummed shut. The eyelid finally released and the sudden pain of rolling his eyeball what seemed like 360 degrees around inside his head, hit him, and either some sharp grit or stray stabbing eyelash was in his eye, it watered like mad and he rushed to his en suite bathroom to bathe it.

Once in his apartment’s kitchen, he filled the kettle for a cup of tea and, as he often did when he was alone with his thoughts, he wondered how he could move onto the next stage in his relationship with lovely Lyndsey. Mason.

Phew! That was a difficult one. He had bought the ring and approached her father for leave to ask for his daughter’s hand, and the old bastard bloody well refused him. That eventuality had never occurred to him. Her father held nothing back either, giving Gareth full chapter and verse of his failings, how he cheated at school, bought his degree, barely gets by careerwise even though his father, two older brothers and his godfather own the bank he worked in, then there was his drinking and his womanising and, and this is where the old duffer leaned into him and whispered “as well as your bumming around”, was like the coup de grace to his proposal.

Mmm, he wondered, with so much at stake, exactly how much a hitman would charge to clear the way for him. It would be easy to make it seem like natural causes, as Old Man Mason was at least fifty years older than his daughter Lyndsey.

His mobile rang in the jeans that he had dropped in the kitchen when he got in last night. By the time he had fumbled it open he saw he has missed two calls, the first of which probably being what woke him up ten minutes before. The caller ID was “Jose”, otherwise known as Josh or “Hoss” by some of his friends, like in “hung like a...”

“Hey, Josh, whatchyer ringing so early for, we’re not meeting the coach until noon.”

“No, Gaz, it’s not about that. Remember you said something about your Lady’s old man queering your pitch?”

‘Fuck!’ thought Gareth, ‘did I get so pissed last night I teed up Josh to do the hit? Or did we arrange something together? If I can’t remember who I’ve told, I’m in shit street.’

“Look, I don’t know what I was talking about-”

“Hey, mate, I’ve got someone who’ll do it.”

“Fuck! Someone to bump off the old man?”

“No, you idiot, someone who will make you, yes, even you, look like the perfect husband for his one and only, very lovely daughter.”


Mason could feel the dread building up within as he and his sister walked down from the town centre car park to the “Station Hotel” to meet the other couple. Madness, he thought, why had he agreed to go along with this crazy scheme to prank their mother?

The pub was packed and uncomfortably hot and stuffy, still sealing in the heat of the early spring day, while outside the clear night held promise of an early frost a couple of hours afterthe sun had vanished from view behind the tall buildings around the railway station. The pub was clearly full of commuters, mostly male and middle aged, who had dropped into the nearest pub after getting off the London train to begin to celebrate Friday night and the release the coming weekend promised. The bar counter was three or four customers deep, desperately trying to get in the drinks they had looked forward to throughout their long dry commute.

It was too noisy even for holding a conversation in there. This girl he was going to meet, Mason thought, was the one who picked this place to meet. Just what was this girl like, if this crowded hell was her favourite watering hole? Caroline had informed him earlier that this was the girl’s choice of venue. He had been told she was in her twenties, while he was already past his mid-thirties. He was regretting agreeing to this blind date more and more. Caroline tugged his arm and hissed in his ear.

“Mace, they’re over there. Oooh, I say, he looks a bit of a dish!” she said, “even better than he did in his photo.”

Mason followed her pointing finger. The other couple must have got here early. They had already grabbed a table and four chairs, the empty ones covered respectively with a leather jacket and a small handbag. The young man was now standing up and waving at them. The pint of beer in front of him was three quarters full. The drink next to the lady looked like red wine and had barely been touched. Mason lifted his eyes to see the girl, still sitting, she was looking straight at him.

God! He thought, she was a vision of an angel, long wavy blond hair, pale complexion, demure, with her hands apparently resting on her lap, though hidden by the table. He must’ve grinned involuntarily, because her face suddenly lit up in a natural, smiling response, then she dropped her eyes downward momentarily, as if in an act of shyness, not willing to surrender her own reaction to the first sight of him through her eyes. After just a moment of composure, though, she lifted her head again, still smiling, and then she started to stand.

“Hey guys,” Gareth spoke first, loudly to overcome the background noise, “you must be Caroline and Mason, we’ve been watching the door, looking out for you.”

“Yes, Gareth, pleasure to meet you,” Caroline replied as they hugged, her face up close to Gareth’s ear, “gosh, it’s a right crush in here!”

“I’m so sorry I suggested this place,” Lyndsey apologised, moving as close to Gareth as Caroline was, “I picked here because my friends and I used to use it when I was at Uni and it was always more than half empty back then and the landlady was happy to let us stay in the warm and nurse a half-pint most of the night.”

“We had already decided to check with you if we should go somewhere else,” Gareth suggested, “somewhere it would be quiet enough to talk.”

“It’s too early to go to the restaurant, I think you said we’re not booked in until 7.30,” Lyndsey said, apologetically, “there are a couple of pubs around the corner, I think.”

“The two pubs that were nearby have both closed recently,” Mason said, remembering them from an occasional postal round he had walked around this area. “Probably explains why this one’s so busy. We could walk rather than drive to the restaurant, that would take twenty minutes or so and we should get us ready for an appetiser before dinner at their bar while we check out what we fancy to eat.”

“That’s a good idea,” Gareth said, picking up his glass and downing his three-quarters of a pint in one go.

Lyndsey picked up her wine glass and sipped a small amount demurely before putting her almost full glass down, put on her light jacket, which was resting on the back of her chair, and picked up her bag from the opposite chair. Gareth stamped down his empty glass and collected his leather jacket from the opposite chair. Caroline and Mason turned and they all walked towards the door. Their table and chairs were commandeered immediately by envious customers as soon as they vacated them.

Outside, they briefly reintroduced each other and politely shook hands, although Caroline reached up and kissed Gareth on the cheek and then did the same to Lyndsey.

Mason and Gareth merely shook hands and gave each other a look that could have been interpreted as ‘You better watch yourself with my sister, if you know what’s good for you’, replied with an implied, ‘and you with my fiancée, buster!’

“We’ll leave the cars in the station car park as it’s free, rather than try to park up near the restaurant, the streets get really packed in the evening around there and we may have to drive around for ages and still not park any nearer than we are now.” Caroline spoke from experience, while the meeting place of the pub was apparently Lyndsey’s choice, the restaurant where they would spend most of the evening had been chosen by Caroline.

All it took was the barest of nods between them, that Mason noticed, before Gareth held out the crook of his arm and asked Caroline, “Shall we start walking and talk about whether we are going to agree to do this swap and act accordingly for the next month or two? It’s too bloody cold to stand around.” And off they went.

Mason looked at Lyndsey, she really looked cold, compared to the hothouse of the hotel bar. He took off his short denim jacket and draped it over her shoulders.

“But you’ve only got a polo shirt on,” she protested.

“Well, I thought you looked cold, are you cold?”

“Yes, I must admit ... well, I wasn’t while sitting in that pub but it is definitely chilly out here. I usually have a heavier coat in the boot of my car, but Gareth drove me and it was quite warm and sunny an hour ago when we parked up. But surely, you’ll catch a death.”

“I’m a postman,” he grinned back, “Right now l’m wearing jeans instead of shorts and a long sleeve shirt instead of a tee shirt, and even you’re carrying a much heavier bag than I usually am, so for me, well, I still seem somewhat overdressed. Besides, I really don’t feel the cold.”

“OK,” she said with a smile, and worked her arms into the jacket, so smoothly that she didn’t need his help. However, once the coat was on it looked enormous on her and the arms were so long that she couldn’t do the zip up.

“Would you mind?” she asked.

“No problem,” he replied and zipped the coat up to her chin. They turned towards where Caroline and Gareth were headed, and they had already walked some 100 yards up the lane.

Mason held out the crook of his arm for her to tuck her arm in, and they moved on up the road in pursuit.

As they started to walk away from the pub, Lyndsey wondered why this tall, lean, handsome gentleman Mason was still single. She understood that he was ten or twelve years older than her, and had been led to believe that he had not had a girlfriend for at least a couple of years. He was a lot better looking than she had expected and had impressed her on looks alone at first glance inside the pub. Once they got outside, he wasn’t pushy or brash like most of the men in her group of friends, but reserved and quiet, friendly without being aloof. They were walking along briskly but in comfortable silence, which was more relaxing than trying to hold a conversation while walking so fast.

He hadn’t even asked her if she was warm enough as soon as they got outside, but he had immediately recognised the signs and simply offered her his coat before she had even admitted to herself that she had felt cold. Then he made a joke about his work, to show that his need for the coat was negligible compared to hers, to assuage any guilt on her part. Now she was walking along and breathing in the light, subtle and warm smell of his cologne from his coat. So, yes, when they they were briefly alone as new acquaintances, which could have been awkward, they had gently exchanged pleasantries, so she was left with the impression that he was cute and attractive.

She had always known that she was considered attractive to the opposite sex, and she was accustomed to the rituals of men trying to impress her and act as if she should already be under their spell. But Mason was so much more mature and relaxed in his own being, not trying to pretend to be some kind of alpha male. He didn’t try to grab her arm or put his arm around her or even hold hands, he had simply offered the same level of support that her boyfriend had offered his sister, knowing that it was just the right move to make in the circumstances. He seemed to be a natural gentleman and probably an all-round nice guy, who was helping his sister out in her revenge for various family pranks, and willing to do this without any apparent reward other than making his sister feel better.

So, what bitch hurt him so badly in the past, she wondered?

Although Mason could see that the girl was slight of build, she moved smoothly and easily and they closed the gap between the two couples quite quickly, falling in step behind them by about ten or twelve feet, so both pairs of conversations could remain largely private. When they slowed down the pace to match the couple in front, she squeezed in closer to him. He reduced the length of his stride to hers and they moved on harmoniously. He could smell her perfume now and, he realised, he could relax, that this wasn’t anything like the ordeal he had anticipated. He had been dreading this evening, thinking he would soon run out of pleasantries to say to someone, but after she had asked him about what post route he worked, he told her amiably about his simple job as a Royal Mail postman, but that conversation soon dried up.

“So,” Lyndsey broke the ice again, seeing that Mason was so quiet, “Mason and Lyndsey, eh? What a combination we’d make with a few hyphens added in!”

Mason laughed, “Yeah, I guess the success or otherwise of this whole scheme, or whatever you want to call it, is going to be completely down to how the pair of us play this thing.”

“It does seems that way,” she laughed back, “so, why do you need to play this trick on your family?”

“I don’t really, I find it all too silly, actually.”

“So why do it?”

“It’s Sis’s call. She’s the one who the jokes are played on every year, my Dad and I just roll our eyeballs at Mum’s inventions and Caroline’s over reaction to them every single year. I’m sure that if Caroline didn’t take it half so seriously, it would have petered out by now. So, what’s in it for you?”

“Nothing really, it’s Gareth who wants to ask Daddy for my hand in marriage but he knows he’s going to get turned down.”

“Why? He seems quite normal ... for a Neanderthal.”

Lyndsey giggled, “Actually, he’s a banker, works in his family’s bank.”

“So, Gareth’s folks are loaded then? What’s your Daddy got against him?”

“He simply doesn’t like him and he doesn’t do anything to disguise the fact, either.”

“I expect that no-one’s going to be good enough for his daughter. Are you an only daughter?”

“Afraid so, does it show?”

“No, well not that I could tell, only deduced from your father’s protective attitude. Tell me, has he approved of any of your boyfriends before Gareth?”

She laughed, “No, not a single one. I guess I’m destined to be a spinster in my old age. I better learn to knit or crochet or something.”

“Ah, not prepared to go against Daddy’s wishes then?”

“Oh, he’s a force of nature. When Daddy and Gareth are in the same room they set off sparks. Wait until you meet him!”

“And I guess I am supposed to make such a bad impression on him that Gareth appears acceptable as his son-in-law?”

“Something like that. Look, I mean no disrespect to you, Mason, but Caroline told me at the outset that you work as a postman and that you sometimes paint houses?”

“Yes, I do.”

“Well, Daddy runs the biggest chemicals industry business in the world, so don’t take this the wrong way, but it will take a lot to impress him, if the son likely to inherit a banking institution that has been established in London for almost 200 years can’t make much headway with him.”

“No offence taken, Lyndsey,” he grinned, “I really have no problem with my job status and my future prospects. I am comfortable in my own skin. What about you, what exactly do you do?”

“I’m a paediatric surgeon at the East Green General,” she replied. “Or at least I’m learning how to become one.”

“Caroline had said you were some kind of doctor, but not that you were training as a surgeon. I am impressed. Is it mainly babies you operate on?”

“Yes, although they do let us loose on young adults as well as children when there are emergencies, but mainly the bulk of the scheduled operations are on babies and small children.”

“Wow! That must be brilliant. A lot more challenging than sticking letters through letterboxes.”

They chatted amiably as they walked. Lyndsey thought it made a nice change for a man not to drone on about how important their jobs or activities were. Mason had simply described his morning round, which was mostly shops and offices in the town centre and his early afternoon round was residential; he started early in the morning, but was finished by middle of the afternoon. Gareth was always bragging about how much he had made on this deal and that, or eulogising over some tackle he had made at his favourite sport, rugby.

When he asked what was one of the downsides to her work, she said, “I don’t know, Mason, sometimes it feels a lot like I’m reaching through a tiny letterbox trying to pull something out to check it out, cut it away or stitch it up. That’s not always much fun.”

“Ok, we agree then, that your job is a bit more challenging while mine is a whole lot more fun!”

“Fun! In posting letters through a letterbox? Where’s the ‘fun’ in that?”

“Oh, the joys of being a postman. Just think of it Lyndsey, up at the crack of dawn or in that quiet twilight just before the sun comes up. Often the wind drops to a sigh, the air so still and quiet that you could hear a pin drop. And the light in the morning can be stunning. You are so alone on the street that you could be the only one alive, or awake at least. Then the birds sense the dawn’s approach and start announcing it to their neighbours. It’s wonderful.”

“I get the dawn too,” Lyndsey insisted, finding herself fighting the corner for her profession, “sometimes we start surgery at 7am and we have to get in an hour or so before that and read through all the patients’ notes and scrub up ready.”

“Ok,” he conceded, “but look at the sacrifices you make in your job. You have to work in a windowless room under artificial light and pumped air con, while I am in the fresh air, taking in the sun from when it leaves off kissing the horizon to well past meridian. Now that is inspirational.”

She had noticed in the pub how tanned he was, even this early in the spring, his face and hands were much darker than his sister. She assumed they must’ve started out with similar natural colouring, but his dark skinned look suited him, made him look healthy, combined with his lean and athletic frame. Her mind wandered to how shapely his legs and buttocks were and couldn’t help compare him to Gareth, who worked on weights in the gym, which made his arms and legs a bit too over-muscled, with slightly repulsive prominent blood vessels, that looked so imbalanced somehow, like he was on steroids or something. Encased in the sleeves of his polo shirt, Mason looked slim and lean, with long muscles that seemed so much more appropriate to his natural long-limbed build.

“It may seem like I have to work like a troglodyte most of the time, but at least I am trying to make someone’s life better.”

“Oh, and you don’t think delivering letters from an overseas sister not seen in a twelve month isn’t important, or the results of a successful examination, be it educational or ... medical ... making someone’s life better?”

‘Ooo,’ she thought and she looked at him smiling at her with one eyebrow raised, ‘he’s taunting me now, the rat. I can’t let him get away with that!’

“Well, at least under the NHS, I don’t have to hand them any nasty bills,” she chirped back at him, “I bet you delivery nasty old bills all the time.”

“Most people pay by direct debit nowadays, Lyndsey, with the bigger bills spread monthly over the year, so all I am dropping in are statements of what’s already been paid, not nasty surprises. In fact, most of the surprises are ones that are full of good news, like birthday cards, baby photos and premium bond wins or letters from far away loved ones.”

‘Damn,’ she thought, ‘he really loves his job.’

In front of them, Caroline and Gareth had stopped walking and turned to face them.

“Looks like we’re here,” Lyndsey said, trying to put on a pout, “we’ll continue this conversation later.”

Mason grinned. This odd double date that he hadn’t looked forward to without several degrees of trepidation all week, was half an hour old and he had pretty well enjoyed every single minute of it so far.

They pushed on into the restaurant. Caroline peeled off to speak to one of the waiters, who embraced her like a long lost friend. Very friendly in here, Lyndsey thought, looking through to the area where the tables were, it looked completely full in there even at this early hour. She looked around, the decor was dark, all blacks, golds and reds, warm and comfortable. It looked like it had been here forever, yet Lyndsey had never heard of it before. It was in the old part of town, up the hill from the station, near the old church. The streets were narrow and what shops there were here, were small specialist craft and antique shops.

Caroline returned, “Our table will be ready in ten minutes.”

“Right,” Gareth said, stepping towards a small bar in the corner of a small lounge area, “they’ve got Peroni Azzuro, bottles all round?” One of the waiters had slipped behind the bar and reacted to Gareth’s booming voice by pulling a Peroni off the shelf.

Mason looked at Caroline and Lyndsey, who were in conversation, “Ladies...”

“Yeah, Peroni for me,” Caroline said, Lyndsey nodded with a smile, so Mason joined Gareth at the bar and spoke to the waiter, “make that four please, Tony.”

The waiter placed the uncapped frosted bottles and shook Mason’s hand with a broad grin on his swarthy face, “There you go Mace, enjoy!” before he scooted back to the tables.

“Eat here a lot, Mason?” Gareth asked, then tugged at his beer.

“Yeah, used to once upon a time, but not so much lately,” Mason replied reflecting on not having much reason to dine out of late.

“So what’s good in here?”

“Honestly?” Mason laughed, “Everything! Trust me, everything in here is special.”

They joined the girls and handed over their bottles. The girls were talking about accommodation, Caroline having a small one bed studio flat, while Lyndsey was sharing a three bed flat close to the hospital with two other doctors.

Gareth chipped in with his luxury two bed apartment, which boasted a wide balcony, so he could hold barbecues in the summer.

Mason didn’t say anything, and Caroline opened her mouth about to say something on his behalf, but a large lady, in her late fifties or early sixties, wearing an apron, approached them holding out her arms. Caroline leapt up and embraced her, exchanging kisses on both cheeks.

“This is my Aunt Anna,” Caroline said, “this is her restaurant. This is Lyndsey, and this is Gareth.”

Aunt Anna kissed them both on the cheeks and then turned to the fourth member of the group, whose back had been towards her when she approached the group, “Mason! I didn’t expect to see you here tonight, we’ve not seen you here for ages. Come, kiss your favourite Aunt.”

Mason gladly embraced her and kissed both her cheeks. Then they were led through the restaurant to the back right next to the kitchen, before she left them to go into the kitchen.

Gareth noticed first, “There are no menus on the table.”

“We are family, so we never get menus, they will bring out the best dishes they can do, a lot of it not even on the standard menu,” Mason said with a smile, “Don’t worry, everything will be absolutely delicious.”

And it all was. Aunt Anna even came and sat with them for a while as Gareth and Lyndsey eulogised about the calamari and other dishes. Aunt Anna spent a lot of time talking to Lyndsey and got out of her that she was a doctor at the hospital. Aunt Anna naturally wanted to know about the massive engagement ring on her finger and, almost on cue, Mason and Lyndsey reached out and held hands, Lyndsey turning to Aunt Anna and saying, “Meet my fiancée, Anna, isn’t he wonderful?”

With the congratulations out of the way, Aunt Anna made a quick getaway, no doubt to ring her sister, Mason’s mother Sofia. Mason and Caroline exchanged glances and smiled. The April Fool trap was sprung.


The walk back down towards the station car park was full of high spirits. They reverted back to their original couples again as Gareth wanted to reestablish his relationship with Lyndsey, saying “I brought her in my car, so I am taking her home.” They stopped at the car park and, for a moment, Gareth revelled in the apparent success of tonight’s charade.

“That was a master stroke, booking your Aunt’s restaurant, so it all gets straight back to your Mum, Caroline,” said Gareth, “I hope that you will keep up the bargain for our side of the trick and get Lyndsey’s Dad to reconsider my marriage proposal.”

“That’s why you insisted I wear my ring,” Lyndsey grinned at Caroline, “so your aunt could see it.”

“Of course,” Caroline said, “and it worked a treat.”

“I’m not surprised it made an impression, that ring’s worth thirty k!” chipped in Garett.

“For insurance purposes,” Lyndsey added.

“I think this’ll work,” Caroline beamed, “now, are we all agreed to do this for the full eight weeks until the first of April?”

She hesitated while the other three looked at each other and nodded.

“Brilliant! So that all of us can get the right results from this prank, we need the ‘partners’ to see each other often and get to know each other’s history, likes and dislikes. I am sure Mum’ll ring Mason and me both in the morning to check up on us, so what plans do we all have for the weekend?”

“I have a home match in the afternoon, but the team usually meets for a bevy in ‘The Carpenters’ beforehand,” said Gareth, “your Josh’ll be there, Caroline, so if you wanna tag along...”

“Ooo, please!” gushed Caroline. “That means that Mason and Lyndsey will be free to meet up, too.” They moved to one side, comparing their mobile phone calendars.

“Well, I also have a match tomorrow afternoon,” Mason said to Lyndsey, “it’s an away game, and I always travel in the team bus.”

“I didn’t know you still played,” Lyndsey said, remembering that Caroline had said he was 38 in their conversation during the week.

“No, I don’t play.” he laughed, “I’m the team photographer and match reporter, for the Herald.”

“What team is it?”

“The local football side, Barton United.”

“I didn’t know we even had a local team,” Lyndsey admitted, “and I’ve lived here for nearly five years.”

“Yes, they play at Manor Park, behind the fire station. We’re in an intermediate league made up of teams from three counties, none of them with floodlights, so we only play on Saturdays. Tomorrow we are playing in the quarter-finals of our county senior cup ... it’s the highest level of competition that we enter, against much better teams, a and this is the furthest we’ve ever got in our history.”

“I remember the ground now, I often jog in Manor Park, so I have seen the pitch in the corner fenced off but I never really noticed anyone playing there before.” She smiled as she got her mobile out of her clutch bag and pressed a button or two to call up her calendar. “So, I should be free after morning rounds about 10.00 to 10.30, so where and when shall we meet?”

“Well,” Mason replied hesitating, “it could be a very long all day and all evening if the team are successful and insist that the team bus stops for a drink on the way home. We also have to stay behind at the ground for a short period after the game, as the hosts lay on hospitality in the shape of tea and sandwiches, and it is bad form to disappear too soon.”

“That’s all right, Mason, I have kept this weekend completely free after my Saturday morning rounds so we can get to know each other better and establish our back story for this April Fool.”

“All right, I usually do a short round at work of mostly second class mail, between 6 and 10 on Saturday morning, then shower and change at the Post Office and meet up with the team at the Silver Spoon Café on the bypass at 11. I leave my car in the car park there.”

“That’s perfect. I am popping into the hospital for a couple of hours to check on today’s ops, and I’ll be in Reception at say quarter to 11?”

“Yes, that will be fine. You will need to wrap up well for the terraces as the shelter at most of the grounds at this level is pretty rudimentary at best, coat, hat, gloves, and stout shoes, too, as not all grounds have proper tarmac paths. The forecast was showers with sunny periods between.”

“I have some warm and comfortable walking boots.” Lyndsey continued, “So what’s the plan for Sunday?”

“Oh, I really hadn’t thought about us going anywhere Sunday...” Mason trailed off.

“What do you normally do Sundays?” she laughed, “Don’t tell me I’m going to be a golf widow for the next two months’ worth of Sundays, will you?”

“No, nothing quite like that.” Mason paused before making up his mind. With a glance at Caroline, who was still engrossed in conversation with Gareth, he pulled Lyndsey a few feet away and dropped his voice to a whisper. “Look, it’s a bit embarrassing, but I drive down to the coast late on Saturday night and on Sundays I spend the day visiting an old ... er ... girlfriend—”

“Oh, that’s original,” she said, arching her eyebrows, “why didn’t you get her to agree to be your fiancée?”

“No, it’s not like that at all. In fact I never even see my old girlfriend, she won’t talk to me, so I only ever see her parents.”

Lyndsey frowned, “Why do you bother to go all the way to the coast to visit her parents?”

“Keep your voice down, Caroline knows nothing about this, but ... I get to spend every other Sunday with my daughter.”

“Daughter? How old is she?”

“She’s eleven months.” Mason couldn’t help but smile warmly at the thought of his daughter. “Maisie’s Mum lives with her parents down on the coast. She is still being breast-fed, and the mother is being difficult with me, not unusual when couple separate. She insists that Maisie doesn’t have formula, nor will she express milk for me to feed her. So I get three or four hours with her in the morning, and another three or four in the afternoon. I tend to drive down on Saturday night, and I have a permanent fortnightly booking for a room at a hotel down there for Saturday night and Sunday night.”

Lyndsey’s heart lurched seeing his smile about his daughter. It was a sad, whimsical smile.

She whispered back, “and Caroline doesn’t know she’s an aunt?”

“No. It’s a long and complicated story.”

“You can tell me about it tomorrow in the bus.”

“OK.” He nodded. “Er ... My friends don’t know either.”

“Yet you told me your secret?”

“Well, in a couple of months we’ll stop seeing each other permanently.” He looked at her eye to eye, “besides, it would be good for me to talk about her and, although I hardly know you, I trust you and I’d to talk about her.”

Lyndsey nodded, “Is it OK if I bring an overnight bag with me? I think trust you too, Mason.”

He nodded, “I’ll book another single room at the same hotel for you. I can do that tonight online. There’s plenty of vacancies in the winter.”

“I’ll see you at the hospital in the morning then.”

“All right.” They turned and joined the other couple. All exchanged hugs or handshakes and each couple went back to their respective cars.

“What do you think of Lyndsey?” Caroline asked as soon as they sat in Mason’s car.

“I like her.”

“She’s beautiful.”

“She is.”

“So’s Gareth, he’s gorgeous.”

“Now, Caroline, they are an engaged couple. Don’t go splitting them up. Gareth is not fair game and you know it. Behave.”

“That Gareth has ‘player’ written all over him. And if I don’t behave, there just might be a beautiful young lady with a broken heart who would need a man’s consoling.”

“Well, don’t count on me, Josh’ll have to console you as usual.”

“Ha! Are you so iron-hearted, Bro?”

“Stainless steel, Sis.” Mason got serious, “Look, Gareth’s family owns the bank he works in and Doctor Lyndsey’s Daddy runs some international giant chemical or pharmaceutical company. Don’t get your hopes up, they are both of them way out of our class.”

“I know. But what about you, here and now? Marilyn was over twelve years ago,” Caroline said quietly, “surely you are over her by now. Or have you developed an aversion to all women?”

“No, I get on just fine with you and Mum.”

“Mmm, I think you need to snap out of it. I really like Lyndsey. Get to know her Mace and I am sure that she could get you back in the saddle again in no time at all.”

“We’ll see.”

He dropped her off at her flat and drove home to his dark and deserted semi-detached house that he had bought all those years ago for Marilyn and then briefly shared with Leone and the baby. The baby had been at the house for only a few hours and never even spent any time in the nursery. He didn’t sleep well, his mind full of images of the vision he had spent the evening with. He got up early and attended to his Royal Mail job, where he was busy sorting and posting his round early, returning to shower and change at home, before driving off to the hospital main entrance to meet Lyndsey.

Meanwhile, Lyndsey had a similar restless night. Caroline had mentioned that Mason had been jilted at the church, but that was getting on for a dozen or more years ago. Now it seems that he had been unlucky in love again, much more recently, this time with a baby daughter involved. Why was this a secret, to be kept from his family and friends, yet be prepared to publicise this sham “engagement” just to play a trick on his mother? He seemed so open and honest and gentlemanly in the small things, like offering her his coat for comfort, yet in the bigger picture of relationships he was clammed tightly shut. This arrangement that Gareth was so keen on, to look good in Daddy’s eyes, was looking decidedly messy.

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