I stare at the half-masticated creamy salmon chunk lying only inches from Harry’s socked foot. “So this is what it’s like having siblings.”
They both look at me. Casper uses the brief lull in activity to backhand slap Harry on the bollocks. Harry crumples to the floor, hands between his legs, and I use my leg as a barrier to stop him from rolling in the grossness.
“Good luck usingthatlater,” Casper says, in what I assume is a reference to Harry’s dick. Casper straightens out his clothes. “Also, Libby and Katey are here if you want to come down and say hello.”
Libby and Katey are Harry’s older twin sisters, and they’ve brought their partners—Dean and Darren—and all five kids they have between them, including yet more twin babies. Boy and girl, so not identical, which is good because I’m having a hard enough time telling Libby and Katey apart. One wears pink glasses, and one wears red glasses, and honestly, I can’t remember which one Harry said was which.
“How were your nibbles?” Harry’s mum, Donna, asks me as she meanders from the kitchen into the living room to say hello to her daughters and grandkids.
“Delicious, thank you,” I reply. I ate four, and in all fairness, they were pretty tasty. Harry disposed of the rest in record time.
“There are nibbles?” Josh says, getting to his feet. He’s twenty-four and has brought his girlfriend, Ellie.
I’ve counted, and there are seventeen people in Harry’s tiny fifties house. So far. Apparently, even more are due to arrive before dinner. Harry’s grandparents, and Harry’s other younger brother Jack’s girlfriend still have to make their appearances. And yet more folk have promised to “pop their heads in” or “drop presents off.”
I’m not sure where they’re all going to sit. Harry, Casper, all the kids, me, and either Libby or Katey are currently squatting on the living room rug.
“Nibbles are in the kitchen, hun,” Donna replies. Today she’s wearing a Wallace and Gromit Christmas jumper with a half apron over her lower body.
Josh moves to the kitchen, and there’s a scramble between Casper and Harry to fill his vacated seat. Casper wins, then flips Harry off from his vantage point. The victory is short-lived, though, as moments later he’s turfed out by Harry’s sister.
“Which one is that?” I whisper to Harry.
“Libby,” he says back.
Libby has pink glasses. Libby has pink glasses.
Casper turns to me as he sits on the floor again. “How many bedrooms has your house got?”
We’ve been playing a game that I’ve been mentally referring to as “Just How Rich is Lando?”
“Eight,” I reply.
“Shiiiit,” Casper says, with no regard for the tiny ears in the room.
“How many bathrooms?” Jack adds. He’s eighteen and the only other Ellis with ginger hair.
“Um . . . eleven, I think.”
“Oh my god, why does a house need more bathrooms than bedrooms?”
“Casper, you little turd, you’d better be getting out of my chair,” Josh says from the hallway. He pauses when he spots Libby in his seat instead of the brother he was preparing to fight, and resigns himself instantly, coming to sit next to me and Harry. He’s still holding the tray of canapés and offers me one.
I shake my head and hold a hand up between us. Harry scoffs two, and the platter gets passed around the room.
“How many PlayStations do you have?” one of the kids asks. I think his name is Callum, but there are far too many people in the house for me to keep track of everyone’s names. I’d estimate his age at about six.
“One,” I say.
This gets me booed.
“If I was that rich, I’d have a PlayStation Five in every room,” Casper says. Others nod in agreement.
“How many horses do you have?” Jack says before I can even respond to the PlayStation comment.
“Guys, just leave the poor lad alone,” Katey says. I think it’s Katey anyway.
“He’s not fucking poor, is he?” Jack squeals. “Dude’s got eight hundred horses.”
