“Because Jackson has one on his arse in the same place. Left cheek, just below the dimple. Only his has a hair growing out of it.”
Max made a noise that sounded like he was about to vomit.
“How do you know about the hair. In fact, how do you know about the mole?” Payton looked rather green.
I stepped further back from her. Projectile vomiting was a talent she’d perfected.
“Showers in rugby. We all know they’ve got matching moles.” Max didn’t look too well himself, but maybe he was realising how expensive the insurance on the photocopier was going to get now he’d damaged another one.
“Beauty-spots.”
Max glowered. “You want to explain how you got close enough to Jackson’s backside to know he has a hair growing out of his mole?”
“Beauty-spot.”
“Not the current point.”
I shrugged and took a deep breath. “He asked me to look because he was worried. He thought hisbeauty-spothad become a little raised and he was thinking of getting it checked by a doctor.” I was seriously breaking my second oldest brother’s confidence, but he was man enough to take a little piss-withdrawing next time we had a poker night.
“Was it okay?” Now Max was concerned.
“Fine. He just didn’t want Vanessa to check. Thought it might put her off, you know.” I heard a strange snort and stopped talking. Payton was pretty much creased in two. “You okay?”
She managed to look up at me. “Just dying of laughter.” Tears had started.
“Well at least you won’t have to get on your baby’s level with its sense of humour.” Max shook his head and looked back at the print. “You’re right. There’s no mole.”
“Beauty-spot.”
He ignored me.
“So who the fuck printed a picture of their arse? It isn’t you or Jackson. It’s not me…. Eli?”
Max’s eyes lasered onto the door to Eli’s office that was in direct sight through the reprographics entrance.
“Yep. Must be Eli’s. For sure.” Even though we had at least three dozen other male members of staff working for us. Eli was the fiancé of our youngest sister, Ava, and worked alongside Payton in the commercial law department. I had no idea what Eli’s naked backside looked like, but I knew I’d enjoy the revenge he’d take on Max when Max started to flash that image about.
As he would.
I knew my brother too well.
“What about the copier?”
Max looked at the machine as if he’d just realised it was there.
“I guess I’ll have to try and fix it.”
I nodded, edging towards the door, my twin scampering out through it already. “Good. Sure, you’ll be able to do that.”
As soon as I was out of there, I called his wife, hoping she wouldn’t give me any details of what she’d do to get him out of there before he caused any more damage.
* * *
Thursdays had beenthe new Fridays for as long as I could remember. In Borough Market, where the Callaghan Green law firm was based, the bars and restaurants buzzed on a Thursday night as loudly as they did on a weekend. I didn’t need to go far to find someone I knew who didn’t have a toddler or a baby or a pregnant significant other at home, which accounted for most of my family now.
This evening, having escaped the office only slightly deafened by Maxwell’s cussing at the copier, I was meeting Shay, my housemate and cousin who was coming off a two-day shift at the hospital where he was an emergency paediatric consultant or something.
Shay had been God’s apology for marrying off all of my brothers and leaving me without a wingman, only he had easily taken my trophy for biggest manwhore south of the Thames by his second week here.
