Claire finally took the seat next to me.
“What Joseph was trying to say is that Callum is probably going to have some sort of date planned with some poor unfortunate girl who believes she she’ll be staring in his Instagram story and will be his date for Jackson’s wedding.”
Marie shook her head. “That boy. He’ll be here before lunch, he’s assured me. And even though he is a manwhore – and yes, I do know what that means – he is generally more reliable than the rest of you.”
“He’s always been your favourite,” Seph said, halfway through a beer already. “We know our places.”
“To be fair, he’s been away for the last couple of years so no one’s been able to report back on everything he’s done wrong,” Claire said. “Now he’s in London again, I’m sure we can start feeding back his misdeeds.”
I felt the heat from her leg next to mine and watched Jackson touch Vanessa, his hand possessive on her thigh. We hadn’t had the opportunity to be a couple in front of others, not unless you counted the days away from Oxford where no one knew us and we had been so young.
“Callum is not my favourite,” Marie stated, punctuating it with a swig of what looked like a gin and tonic. “I don’t have favourites, although at the moment Ava would not be near the top of the most preferred list.”
I felt Claire chuckle and I relaxed back against the overly cushioned sofa. She had taken off whatever make up she’d had on and it made her look younger, softer. Her hair was mussed and she looked tired. I wished I could put my arm around her shoulders and pull her into me, but if I tried I’ve probably end up scarred.
There were words of protest around the room about her denying Callum being the favourite child. I laughed, watching Grant, who looked mildly amused as he nursed his whisky, keeping out of the conversation, as he often did, letting Marie hold court.
“Actually my favourites are none of you lot,” Marie said. “I prefer my honorary children, like the friends you bring home.”
She glanced at the tiny blonde called Amelie who sat on the floor next to Max’s spot on the sofa and then at me, smiling softly. When I’d started university my parents had moved to Ireland, back to near my mother’s home town. Max and I had been friends from the outset and I’d ended up being a regular visitor to the house for weekends and some holidays. Marie was from a big Irish-New York family and liked having the house full and feeding people. She was also a proven mind reader and knew something was the matter when her children avoided speaking to her. Then she honed in like a truth-seeking missile and there was no getting away without confessing all. I had wondered if she knew about Claire and I, and the year we had spent getting to know each other in ways Grant certainly wouldn’t have approved.
“And my soon to be daughter.” Marie smiled at Vanessa. “Just think, if the rest of you can hypnotise someone into marrying you, I could end up with fourteen children. Think of all the grandchildren!”
There was a collective groan from everyone apart from Jackson and Vanessa, who were back to gazing at each other, Jackson twirling a strand of her hair around his fingers. He’d been a changed man since meeting her a few months ago, no longer working constantly or snapping at anyone for the slightest thing. Since I’d left the marines we’d had regular poker nights at Jackson’s and frequently met for food and drinks. He’d been happier, and I couldn’t be more pleased that he’d found Vanessa, although seeing them together made me regret that the only time I had that it had been with Claire, too many years ago.
“How many shops are we being dragged to tomorrow?” Claire asked, breaking Vanessa’s gaze at Jackson.
“Two,” she said. “They have different stockists but we don’t have to pick something tomorrow, just get an idea of what you like. We’ll take photos so Ava and Payton can have some sort of say. Apart from colour, where I want you in the same, you can have different styles so there are no huge arguments.”
“What’s planned for us men?” Seph said, making Max snort silently, probably at the fact he was describing himself as a man.
“We’re leaving you at home with a baby sitter,” Jackson said. “We’re going to Oxford too, getting measurements taken at some suit shop and then beer tasting.”
“And meeting for dinner,” Vanessa said. “Wearemeeting for dinner. If you’re too drunk to manage that then I’ll rethink the wedding.”
Jackson stiffened, his hand on her thigh now still. “We’ll be fine. It’s just a few drinks.”
I snorted. “It was just a few drinks last Saturday. A few drinks that had you on your ass before we got you home.”
“My point exactly,” Vanessa said. “This isn’t your stag do. You’re getting suit fittings. That’s your priority.”
Max turned to Jackson. “Did you remember to pack your balls or are they still in the presentation case from when you gave them to Vanessa?”
Vanessa smashed a cushion into Max’s face. “His balls are working just fine. And they’re attached. Unlike yours will be if you carry on. Or if you all end up too drunk to be coherent tomorrow. Or Seph ends up streaking through Oxford because I believe that’s not happened before,” she said sarcastically.
All eyes went to Seph.
“It was Fresher’s Week. And I wasn’t the only one,” he said, holding both hands up in surrender.
“I thought I recognised you when I saw the article in the local newspaper,” Marie said.
“But my head wasn’t on it,” Seph said.
Marie smirked. “I wouldn’t need your head to recognise you,” she said.
Seph began to quietly curse.
“Save the cutting for if Seph ever gets married,” Jackson said, Vanessa now resting her head on his shoulder, eyes half closed.
