“True, but answer it anyway. Then you can buy me breakfast.”
“We can’t have a future. He’s going to want to settle down and have kids and a wife and I’m not ready for that. I just want to date.”
“Fair enough. But maybe he’s not on a deadline to do those things. And in terms of finding someone to marry and breed with, there’s generally a couple of years first anyway. Or fourteen years, if you’re Claire. Or a year, if you’re Jackson and Vanessa.” Payton took the brush from my hand and started to detangle her own hair.
“What about you and Owen?”
“We just got back together. I think we’ve a long way to go before we move in or start planning detailed futures. I want to enjoy now rather than live to plan,” she said. “I’m not sure I want to live with him yet. I like missing him and I like the fact that I can have my own space. Pass me the hairdryer. I’ll finish your hair. Do you want it straight or shall I curl it?”
“Straight.” I moved to sit on the floor below her and watched the two of us in the mirror as she blew my hair straight, just as she had done when I was nine and she was eleven, and again when I was thirteen and going to a party, and later, many times since.
We’d discuss it again, about Eli and why I didn’t tell her, but all would be fine because our friendship was thicker and stronger and tighter than any non-disclosure because she was my sister and I loved her.
Chapter Nine
Elijah
July
“If you thinkshe’s got too many pairs of shoes, you should see how many Claire has,” Callum opened a bottle of beer with his teeth, the opener too far away for him to be bothered to get it. “And there’s always another pair that she needs.”
“I don’t think that’s just Ava,” Jackson said. “If Vanessa buys one more pair of shoes we’re going to have to build an extension. And that’s not including the fucking coats and handbags and fuck knows what else. If the baby’s a girl, we are going to have to move.”
“You’ve got four bedrooms,” Seph said, drinking a diet coke. He’d shuffled the cards enough to wear the spots off. “You really don’t need to move.”
Jackson shrugged. “Not now, but if we have another kid after this we will. And if we just have girls…”
Killian sat back and rested his hands on the back of his head. “Trust me, the opportunities of having more than one are limited. I don’t think me and Claire have been in bed together at the same time for the past week.”
I saw Max glare at Killian. “Seriously. I’m good at ignoring the fact you’re sleeping with my sister as long as you don’t rub it in my face with comments like that.”
Killian gave him a shit-eating grin. “How do you think we got Eliza? Immaculate conception?”
“Fucking shit-tard,” Max mumbled. “Are we playing poker or are we just going to sit here talking like old women? Seph, deal the fucking cards.”
Usually, poker night was held at Jackson’s and if it couldn’t happen there, we decamped to Max’s. Both homes were out of use at the moment: Jackson’s house had been taken over by Vanessa’s gran and two of her blue rinse brigade friends from Derbyshire and Victoria had decided that she was going to have the Callaghan girls, their friends and some of her colleagues from the history department where she was a lecturer, round for cocktails. She’d actually hired a bartender, of which none of the girls could talk about and keep a straight face, leading us all to believe that he might be making the drinks while not wearing much. This was making Max and Jackson grumpier than usual.
Seph dealt rapidly, balancing on one of the makeshift chairs. It was rare I had so many people round at my place and I wasn’t kitted out for having seven other house guests who were all over the six-foot mark. For the first time in a long time, I wanted to move and find somewhere that would let me put down roots, somewhere with a large kitchen-diner and bi-fold doors that opened onto decking.
Ava had got me far too involved in the renovations on the priory so that I was now actually assessing properties based on their ability to be altered to fit the spec I thought I wanted. I’d been with her this week to look at a few potential places for her next project and at one point I’d been shocked to fuck to hear what shit I was spouting about period features.
“The shoe thing is an issue,” I said, another pair of things with heels I knew she wouldn’t be able to walk in properly catching my eye. “I’ve suggested that she find a storage facility for some of them.”
“Or a charity shop,” Killian added, folding immediately. “But it won’t happen. Claire would rather I moved out than have to move her shoes. Although, shoes can’t give you more babies.”
His brother Nick, who had twins already and was expecting another with his wife Katie, looked at him like he had just shat himself. “Don’t tell me you’re having another already?”
“Fuck no. She had a caesarean. Wehaveto leave it. But she’s already talking about a second. Feel free to bring it up with her and fight my corner,” Killian said. “One small dictator in the house is enough at the moment.”
“And by that do you mean Claire or Eliza?” Seph asked. I watched his face, trying to read him to see what cards he had. His poker face had improved recently.
“Eliza. I think mine and Nick’s next investment is going to be an all-girls school in the middle of Bodmin Moor with no WiFi, no transport links and no phone signal. That’s where our daughters will be until they’re thirty. Or more,” Killian said, checking his phone.
“Damn right,” Nick said, folding himself.
He’d cleaned up two weeks ago when we’d last played. It was good to see he wasn’t going to have the same success tonight.
“And Katie’s having a girl, so that’s me completely outnumbered. Are you and Van finding out, Jacks?”
