IVY
Overnight, it was decided that we’d cut the reunion short. All morning, cars have come and gone to collect the extended family, Kyle leaving the loudest. Richard and Helen sent word of mutual migraines this morning, and we’re all glad for it.
“Did Sal and Judy get away okay?” Astrid asks.
“Yes,” Art says, drowning his cut croissant in jelly. “And the minions rushed off in various carpools.”
“Ride shares,” Joe corrects.
And then there were eight. The dining hall is way too big to host us, but no one wanted to ask the kitchen staff to deal with any more of our bullshit, not after dinner, so we’re making the most of it, squatting at one end like someone tipped the room over and we’re the clinging remains.
It’s probably the only reason we hear the knock at the front door.
While everyone else shares a confused look, the little string pull in my gut tightens, and I turn to Astrid, who I’m shocked to find is blushing. I grab for Lincoln’s hand.
This is it. The last mystery to be solved.
“Lincoln,” I whisper as our guest breaches the room.
Darcy gasps. “Oh my god.”
Lincoln is beaming. “Dad? What the hell are you doing here? I thought your flight wasn’t for a few days.” He stands to pull his father into a hug, and I shut my mouth, stuffing my realization back down.
Better to stay in the wings this time around, and from the way Simon can’t take his eyes off Astrid, it’s definitely not going to take very long.
“Actually, I’ve been in town for a few days,” he says, pulling out of the hug and standing a little awkwardly by Lincoln’s side, like he wants to move but can’t quite work out whether he’s allowed.
“You know it’s interesting, Mum,” Reed says to the room. He looks ready for the surprises to be over. I don’t blame him. “I had a phone call last week, from the Ritz in London, saying that they’d found your bracelet and needed to arrange a courier to get it home. Which is funny, because you were meant to be staying in Paris.”
“And I saw you sneaking back into the house before breakfast yesterday,” Darcy adds.
Astrid leans back in her chair, placing both hands in her lap. Her smile has been hard-coded on her face since Simon walked in.
“Your mother and I met last month for coffee,” Simon starts, but is quickly interrupted when all three kids talk at the same time.
“Last month?”
“And you never said anything?”
“Do you want to hear the rest or not?” Simon puts a purple and gold tin on the table in front of Darcy. All three of his kids look joyful at the sight of it, so it must be some British thing I don’t understand.
Now free to walk over to Astrid, Simon says hello by bending down to kiss her.
Darcy rips open the pack, exposing what looks like a mountain of brightly wrapped chocolates inside. “We’re going to need more tea.”
“Don’t hog all the green triangles,” Reed says, pulling the tin across the table. “Or I’m only leaving the toffee pennies.”
Lincoln steals the tin briefly to pick out a handful of orange and purple ones before it’s back in Darcy’s hands.
The rest of us watch in awe. “It’s like watching a feeding at the zoo,” Art says.
I snort into my coffee.
“Can I make a suggestion?” Joe asks over the din.
Reed swallows a chocolate whole. “If it’s about breakfast, then no.”
Joe carries on. “Next year we should do this somewhere else.” Everyone looks to Art and Joe, who is smiling serenely. “Deacon had ninety years of attention. It’s time. He was born four minutes older and he never let me forget it. Next year we celebrate my way.”
