‘I’ll drive you home,’ he offered. ‘Can’t have you getting on the train in this state.’
‘I’ll go and get your stuff,’ Charlotte said, shuffling out of the chair and leaving her book on the table. ‘You probably shouldn’t be using that manky hand.’
‘You’re just trying to get rid of me faster,’ I said, leaning against my brother.
‘And I get to go through your stuff again without you realising,’ she replied as she let herself out the back door.
‘Well, it’s officially a birthday for the books,’ Dad said with a sigh, sliding his hat over to a more rakish angle. ‘Maybe you can use some of it in your next bestseller.’
‘Maybe,’ I said as he gave me a nod. ‘I’m under contract, I’ve got to write about something.’
And I didn’t know how I was ever going to write another love story ever again.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
‘Can we stop at a McDonald’s?’
‘No.’
‘Can we stop at a Starbucks?’
‘No.’
‘What about a Marks & Spencer Simply Food?’
William’s grip tightened on the steering wheel.
‘No.’
Charlotte hurled herself across the backseat of his car, arms folded, face furious. ‘What’s the point in a road trip if we’re not going to stop at the services and get treats?’ she cried. ‘If I don’t get a frappuccino in the next half hour, I’m going to die.’
‘I am prepared to test that theory,’ William replied, smiling at the driver in the next car as he undertook our BMW then flashed a subtle wanker sign as soon as he was out of sight. ‘We’re not on a road trip, you little moose. If you don’t be quiet, I’ll leave you at the services and you can find your own way home from there.’
‘That would be more fun than this,’ she mutteredbehind me. ‘How come I had to sit in the back when she isn’t talking anyway?’
‘I’m talking,’ I said as the screen of my phone lit up with the same number for the tenth time in a row.
‘You’ve said three things in the last hour and none of them were particularly nice.’
‘Sophie doesn’t feel like being particularly nice.’ William put his foot down, ignoring the engine’s protests, and the time to our destination icon on his phone dropped by five whole minutes.
‘She looks like she’s having a nervy b.’
‘I’m not having a nervy b,’ I said as my phone screen went dark again.
Ten missed calls. Ten voicemails. Forty-three unread texts.
I closed my eyes and concentrated on breathing in and out. Joe was married. Joe was married. Joe was married. Nope, that wasn’t helping.
‘Still can’t believe neither of you told me.’
Charlotte’s right leg stuck through between mine and William’s seats, just barely missing the gear stick with a black and white Nike, the same style as Gregory’s, only Charlotte was eighteen and he was sixty-two. My poker face was terrible but she wouldn’t even be able to hide her feelings about a game of snap. All of her emotions passed over her so clearly, it was like looking at a human mood ring.
‘Leaving me out like usual,’ she pouted.
‘You’re here now, aren’t you?’ William pointed out. ‘We could’ve said no when you asked to come.’
I glanced in the rear-view mirror to see her contorted around her seatbelt.
