Tommy nodded. "Max mentioned something about it earlier."
I frowned. "What do you mean, earlier? When did you see Max?"
Tommy looked puzzled. "He was in the pub just before you got here. He'd stopped off in the village to pick up some milk. Don't tell me you didn't know your own brother was here for the weekend?"
I looked to the skies and prayed for the patience to not murder him. "No, it was meant to be just me and Van this weekend."
Tommy shrugged. "I'll let you deal with it. Call me if you need help disposing of his body."
We did the usual manly back-slapping thing and I gave Addy a kiss, as did Tommy with Vanessa, trying to lower his hand on purpose. Addy threatened him with divorce and we left them grumbling into the car as Emmy woke up and started to sing some princess song that sounded vaguely familiar.
"So – Max?" Vanessa said. "You weren't expecting him?"
My feet crunched over stones on the path, the background noise of the countryside maintaining a feeling of peace. "No. He knew I was coming here, so either he's trying a major cockblocking prank or something's up. I forgot my phone as well."
We meandered back to the house, her hair blowing around her face in the soft breeze. Something felt right about having her there, how she'd been with Tommy and Addy and their kids, the locals in the pub who'd come over to speak to us. She had no airs and graces; she was genuinely pleasant and interested, unlike some of the women I'd dated.
Max's car was pulled up next to mine and we found him in the kitchen, playing with the new coffee machine that you needed a college degree to work. He looked up at us as soon as we entered, no shit-eating grin on his face.
"I'm sorry for crashing your weekend. I won't be around much," he looked at Vanessa rather than me.
"What's happened?" I knew my elder brother best of all. It had been him who had told me Mum had died, him who had pushed our single beds together so us and Claire could stay together during the nights when one of us would always wake up crying. Callum was still an infant, but we were all old enough to know mum wasn't coming back.
"Amelie's dads had a stroke," Max said, not padding the words. "She had a call this morning so I've brought her to the hospital. I'll pick her up when she calls me and stay around for the weekend. I've said she can stay here – she won't want to stay at her old house."
"What's the prognosis?" I asked. Amelie hadn't spoken to her father for years. She was one of the toughest people I knew but this was still going to raise a lot of shit.
"Grim. He's not regained consciousness and had a second stroke not long ago. I've let Dad and Marie know. I think they're flying back earlier," Max said. "I seem to have mastered the coffee machine, would you two like to sample a Max-the-barista special?" He tried to lighten the mood.
"Sure," Vanessa said, sitting down on one of the bar stools. "How's Amelie holding up?"
He shrugged. "She's not saying much. I think she's gone on autopilot. I'm going to make her something to eat here this evening and talk it through with her as if she bottles it up for very long, she'll explode." He began pressing various buttons on the machine, frowning at it. "There's no way in this world that Dad's ever going to be able to work this."
"Another reason to get Marie to wait on him," I said. "Is there anything I can do for Amelie?"
"I'll let you know. At the moment I think it's just a case of making sure she remembers life carries on and that she's never done anything wrong," Max said, passing over a mug of coffee to Vanessa. "I'll use the annex tonight. Then we're out of your way."
That felt wrong. I'd known Amelie all my life and she was to all intents and purposes another sister. "Look, I've booked us dinner at the Hand and Flower. Use the main house for Amelie and we'll bring a couple of decent bottles of red back – the one they produce themselves."
"I've still got a few bottles of the Canadian stuff to get through," Max said. He liked his wine and I didn't think what Dad and Marie had sent back had suited his palette. "Although I might gift them to a couple of clients."
"Might be a good idea. They've picked the winery now anyway, so they'll only be interested in The Icery stuff or whatever it's called," Max said. He looked to Vanessa. "Are you sure? It'll be better if it's not just me with Amy tonight. You know how she never listens to me." He gulped down the last of his coffee.
"It's fine," Vanessa said. "It wouldn't feel right being in the same house and not sharing at least a drink. I didn't know she'd used Amy as a short."
"She doesn't," I said. "It's only ever been Max who's called her that and he did it to annoy her. He's never grown out of pulling her pigtails and she's never stopped kicking his shins, although that's all metaphorical now."
Max smiled, although it didn't meet his eyes. "I'll leave you to your afternoon. I'm going to hit the weights for a bit. Do you want a lift to the Hand and Flower? I could drop you off on the way to the hospital and then you just need to get a taxi back."
"I was going to drive," I said.
"Why? You scared of getting whiskey dick?"
Vanessa laughed at him, her eyes flicking between us to assess our reactions. If she hadn't had been there we'd have ended up with pads on and boxing in the gym. However, I had to pretend to have a bit of self-control. "It's only you who suffers from that," I said. "And if you're playing chauffeur I may as well raid Dad's cellar."
Max laughed, happier now. "Bring a couple of bottles of the decent stuff up and fridge it. Yours won't need to be that cold if you're heading to the hot tub and don't worry, I won't go in the garden and perv on Vanessa." He looked knowingly at us both and started to walk towards the annex.
"Max," Vanessa said, pulling him back. "What do you think of the new décor in your room?"
