‘No, thanks.’ Lucy laughs. ‘Maybe if I was wearing a meringue. I could do with some lipgloss, though.’ She holds out her hand while Molly rummages around in her silver beaded clutch bag.
‘Where the bleedin’ heck is it?’ Molly mutters. ‘Honestly, you’d think I’d be able to find lipgloss in a bag this small when I usually have a nappy bag the size of Tasmania to contend with. Ah, here it is.’
She produces a pale pink tube and a compact mirror. Lucy surreptitiously applies some and then hands it over to me.
‘Thanks.’ I do the same before passing it back to Molly for her turn. We’re used to this routine.
‘Have you had a drink yet?’ Molly asks Lucy.
‘No. I’m dying of thirst.’
‘What do you want? Wine? Champagne? Tequila slammer?’ Molly suggests hopefully.
‘Ooh no, I’ll have one of those.’ Lucy points towards a tray of ruby-coloured drinks being carried past by a dashing young waiter. I reach over and swipe one for her just in the nick of time.
‘Sorry,’ the waiter apologises, looking back over his shoulder and spying me handing the drink to the bride. He immediately comes our way.
‘What are they?’ I ask, as he offers the tray to Molly and me.
‘Singapore Slings,’ he and Lucy say at the same time. ‘Seriously, you should swap from wine. These are gorgeous,’ she urges Molly and me.
‘I’ll take one for later,’ I tell the waiter.
‘Not for me,’ Molly says. ‘Wine is fine! Wine is fine!’
She says it so loudly that Lucy and I pull faces at each other. ‘Is she pissed?’ I mouth, and Lucy nods and grins.
‘I saw that,’ Molly growls. ‘I am not pissed! I’m just a bit . . . off my face.’
We all laugh.
‘How are you doing?’ Richard asks me half an hour later when we go to take our seats for lunch.
‘Good,’ I reply, not meeting his eyes.
‘Still feeling faint?’
‘No, I’m okay now.’
‘What’s that?’ He nods at my drink.
‘Singapore Sling. Lucy’s favourite.’
‘Nice?’
‘Really nice. Have a sip and see what you think. Areyouhaving fun?’
‘Yeah. Nathan was just saying we should plan a surfing trip for when he gets back from his honeymoon. Go up to Byron when the swell comes in.’
‘That’d be cool,’ I say.
‘Do you want to come?’
‘No, you know what I’m like.’
‘Lucy will be there.’
‘Yeah, well, Lucy can surf, unlike me.’
