Is he already lost?
‘Are you okay?’ Lucy asks with sudden concern.
Her empathy has a powerful effect on my emotions.
‘Bronte, what’s wrong?’ she asks with alarm as my eyes well up with tears. ‘Is it Lachie?’ she persists.
I’m mortified, but I nod as I swallow. I like Lucy too much to lie to her.
‘Who is that?’ she asks, following the line of my sight towards Fliss.
‘Fliss,’ I reply. ‘She’s the girl he’s been doing all his weddings with.’
‘You think there’s something going on?’ She’s startled.
I shake my head. ‘I don’t know. I just have a bad feeling.’
‘She looks young.’ Lucy casts Fliss another surreptitious glance.
‘She’s Lachie’s age,’ I reply.
My friend meets my eyes with understanding.
‘Sorry, this is not the time or the place.’ I’m shocked and embarrassed at how much I’ve said. I really don’t believe Lachie is cheating on me, but it hurts to think that his feelings may drift further than friendship.
‘What are you up to tomorrow?’ Lucy asks. ‘Is Lachie working?’
I nod miserably. ‘With her.’
‘Come over for a cuppa,’ she urges. ‘I’ll make sure Nathan’s out of the house and will put Finn down for his nap so we can chat properly.’
‘Okay,’ I reply. ‘Thanks.’
I know I’ll be very glad of the distraction.
‘Sorry I had to leave early last night,’ Lucy apologises the following day when our plan comes together.
Finn kindly obliged us by going down for his nap without any fuss. Flying halfway around the world to land in a completely different time zone used to knacker me out, but at least I knew why my body clock was all over the place. It must be very confusing for a toddler.
‘But I had an excuse,’ Lucy adds, smoothing her hand across her floaty top to reveal what I now see has been disguising a rather large bump.
‘You’re having another baby!’ I cry. ‘That’s amazing news! How far along are you?’
‘Five months,’ she reveals with a smile, picking up her mug from the coffee table and taking a sip.
My eyes pop out of my head. ‘How on earth have you kept that a secret?’
‘We’ve been in the UK.’ She shrugs. ‘I wanted to tell people in person.’
‘Wait, weren’t you drinking last night? I thought you were on vodka cranberries?’
‘Cranberry, no vodka,’ she replies with a cheeky look.
‘Sneaky! Do you know what you’re having?’
She nods. ‘A girl.’
I squeal.
