‘As I recall it, it wasn’t French onion soup, it was, ahem, vomit,’ Beau replies. ‘And in the end, I think it was Maximus who enjoyed a sort ofshoeyfor breakfast that day.’
‘Disgusting,’ Seph says with a roll of her eyes. ‘Boys are disgusting.’
‘I’m not surprised he and Briony got divorced,’ Tiggy adds as she sips her second espresso. ‘Given what they both enjoyed for breakfast the day before their big day.’
‘Why, what did Briony have?’ Chester asks.
‘Fellatio, I believe,’ she says, incredibly casually. ‘With the gentleman whose villa we had commandeered for the weekend.’
‘Right, Antigone, we get the picture,’ Bea tells her firmly – you know you’re in trouble when you get your full first name thrown at you. That’s a verbal warning. A written warning is, to have a guess stupid enough to be true, wills being changed.
I glance at Ethan, who is so very clearly having the time of his life. He’s gripped, like he’s watched an upper-class version ofHollyoaks. They could actually put lobster bisque down in front of him, and I don’t think it would steal his attention.
‘Not in front of the rentals, Tig,’ Chester says with what I think is technically a chortle.
Chester’s rentals – aka his mum and dad – seem nice enough, but almost everyone at this table is cut from the same cloth. Joan and Richard are old money, stiff – clearly not fans of Tiggy saying ‘fellatio’ at their breakfast table.
Tiggy is… I don’t know how to describe it. I swear, I make dirty jokes, I like to have a drink and a laugh. The thing is though, when I do it, it’s common and unacceptable. When Tiggy does it, it’s okay, that’s just Tiggy being outrageous. Thereare so many double standards, in that same way, where it’s classy if you’re wealthy, but in incredibly poor taste if you’re a lowly commoner. Drinking too much, talking about sex, stories from wild nights out – badges of honour for this lot. But you can guarantee if I decided to tell the story of when Ethan and I were getting it on and the blinds opened, it would get a reception that would fit seamlessly intoPretty Woman. Not that I want to tell them, I want to seem like a whole new me, the kind of me who fits in.
‘I want to know more about our new friend,’ Chester says, looking across the table to Ethan. ‘What’s your story?’
‘Oh, I’m not sure I have a story,’ Ethan replies.
‘Everyone has a story,’ Chester replies. ‘A list of conquests, achievements and such.’
‘No one wants to hear about my body count or my criminal record over breakfast,’ Ethan replies.
‘I certainly do,’ Tiggy says before flagging down a member of staff for another coffee.
Oh, fuck, he’s being perfect – for theoldplan. But I don’t want that now.
‘I am committed to your daughter, sister, cousin, basic stranger,’ Ethan tells everyone, glancing at them one at a time, working his way from my dad to Seph to Tiggy to Beau.
I can feel the uncomfortable look creeping across my face.
‘Ha ha, yes, of course you are,’ I say. ‘Daddy, Ethan and I work together.’
Daddy! I just said Daddy! Seph – of course – still uses Mummy and Daddy to refer to her parents and it always makes me cringe. Well, look at me now, trying to use the word ‘Daddy’.
‘I know we do,’ Ethan replies – then he stops in his tracks. ‘Sorry, she calls me Daddy too, I thought she was talking to me.’
My actual daddy doesn’t look impressed, although I think (and this is a relief) he thinks this is Ethan saying he’s like the dad I never had, rather than it being a sex thing.
‘Ethan, I like you,’ Chester tells him, laughing wildly.
‘Me too,’ Tiggy adds. ‘We need more fun people in this family.’
‘I don’t know, you can never have too many sensible heads in the room,’ Beau adds. ‘What do you think, Lana?’
Oh my God, he’s talking to me.
‘Are you with me and Seph or Chet and Tigs on this one?’ he asks.
Speak!
‘Er, yes, sensible all the way,’ I reply.
‘So, you’re an office worker too?’ Bea enquires – very much with a tone.
