“You’re late. Next round’s on you,” Will says as I drag another chair over to the low table they’ve commandeered.
Another sign of the times. They’re drinking a bottle of red. There’s not a bottle of tequila or a shot glass in sight.
I’m topping off everyone’s glass when Ben gives Josh the side eye.
“What’s up with you tonight? I haven’t seen you this fidgety since Will put itching powder in your jocks before the year 10 formal.”
Any thoughts I had of confiding in my brothers, asking their advice, getting their support, vanish with the words that come out of Josh’s mouth.
“No. Nothing. Nothing wrong. I’m fine. Everything’s …” Josh stops, and we all wait. “Greer is pregnant,” he blurts, a grin splitting his face practically in two. There’s a beat of stunned silence. “Shit. You can’t tell her I told you. It’s supposed to be a secret. She said we couldn’t tell. Not until Freyja has the babies. She’ll kill me.” The grin disappears, and his hands come up to cover his face.
Pandemonium breaks out. Ben leaps from his chair and pulls Josh into a tight hug. Nick goes to the bar for champagne. Will turns briefly to me, conflict written all over his face—sadness, regret, sympathy all war with joy—before he’s also hugging Josh.I don’t want Will to feel bad. I don’t want him to remember what I said to him when Jess died. This needs to be a happy time. My little sister and one of my oldest friends are having a baby together. No matter what went on between me and Will, this is cause for celebration.
“Is it too early for cigars?” I ask, getting in on the man-hug action.
“Maybe save those for after the birth,” Ben suggests as we toast.
“To Greer and Josh and baby Markham.” A cheer goes up around the entire club. Most of the members are friends of my father and have known us since we were kids. Seems like everybody overheard.
“Ah, fuck. Now everyone knows. She’s going to be so pissed. She said I wouldn’t be able to keep it to myself. I swore I would. But I’m so fucking excited.” Josh bounces in his seat like an eight-year-old hopped up on sugar. The only time I’ve seen him this excited is the day they got married in Italy last Christmas.
“You’ve never been able to keep a secret.” Will shakes his head.
“I have. I’m good with secrets.”
“Even when you don’t tell, we all know. Remember when you first came back from overseas, and you and Greer thought you were being so sneaky?” Ben reminds him.
“That’s right. We were sitting at that table right there.” Nick points to a table on the verandah. “You thought you were so clever. Except for the love bite on your neck.”
“And the fact that you smelt of Greer’s shampoo,” Ben adds.
“And that you hadn’t looked at another woman since you arrived.” Will rolls his eyes dramatically.
Josh looks more and more sheepish as the accusations fly.
“You can’t talk.” Josh angles his freshly poured glass of champagne towards Nick. “Pretending like you thought Lulu was an annoyance. Nobody was buying that either.”
Nick has the good grace to blush, which is an unusual look on him.
I feel a wash of regret. An emotion that’s become as familiar to me in the last couple of years as sadness. The four of them were all here. Together. Living. Laughing. Teasing. Where was I? Probably at the library researching. Or at a conference. Or bashing away at my laptop to get my PhD into shape.
I know where I probably wasn’t. I probably wasn’t with Jess. Holding her hand. Kissing her. Treating her to a lazy lunch in the sun at her favourite café.
I don’t regret being successful. I do regret how much I’ve sacrificed at the altar of my ambition. My relationships with my siblings. Friendships. And most importantly, the happiness of the one person who should’ve come before everyone else. I can’t get that time with Jess back. I can never make my neglect up to her. I’ll have to live with that forever. But I can at least try and repair my relationship with my brothers. My sister. My parents. And maybe, when my time comes to face the afterlife, and my heart is weighed against the feather, I won’t be judged as harshly by the Gods as I will always judge myself.
Chapter Six
Sadie
On any other day, you’d find empty offices up the wahzoo in this department. But this morning, the one time I need privacy for a conversation I would never have believed I’d be having, there are people everywhere. Most of them are coming and going from Ethan Carter’s office.
Everyone wants to introduce themselves, no doubt aware of Jennifer’s unspoken plans for Ethan to follow her as the head of department. From the lecturers, who are keen to reacquaint themselves, to the admin staff and undergrad students. Most of whom seem to be female. And is it my imagination or does Janet, the librarian responsible for the prestigious Berner Collection of ancient Egyptian texts, have lipstick on today?
At this rate, I’ll have finished my PhD and be running my own dig in Egypt before I get to have a conversation with him. Which, come to think of it, would solve the problem.
I’m in the storeroom updating the catalogue of artefacts we’ve been 3D scanning when Riley scuttles in with the look she gets when she has a whole pot of tea to spill, not just a cup.
“Have you spoken to him yet?”
