‘Even the best of men,’ she repeats, ‘make mistakes. ’Cause after all, they’re only men. Y’ can’nae expect too much, aye?’
Laughter breaks out around us, and Ivy grumbles about thethick-heidednessof men when June speaks again.
‘Oh. I see something.’ With an air of mystery and circumstance, June holds her hand out for me to take. ‘It’s the second sight,’ she says somewhat airily. ‘I’ve said it before, but it seems I got the message a wee bit wrong. It’s you, dearie, not Ivy that’s carrying twins.’
‘Oh, no. I think you’re mistaken.’ I laugh nervously as I try to extract my hand from hers, but she’s freakishly strong for someone in her eighties.
‘I don’t think so,’ she replies gleefully.
But no, she is wrong. Apart from that one night—okay, maybe the first couple of nights—Mac and I have been super careful. And I’d even done a couple of tests! And, yes, I’ll admit to feeling a little disappointed that Iwasn’tpregnant. But that’s just crazy talk. The result of good sex. And a dose of nature. And hormones. And stuff.
I look down at my hand in her papery looking ones, though I can’t resist a quick glance at Mac. But he’s just smiling, as if the idea of me being pregnant not-so-secretly pleases him.
Huh. Pleases himandpleases me, but I roll my lips inward to prevent me from smiling. Speaking. Or any of that stuff.
‘I’m free!’ exclaims Ivy, laughing. ‘Twins are a blessing, so long as they’re not mine. Especially as one of those twins is to be namedJune Euphemia!’
‘I love my name!’ June declares. ‘Lucky is the bairn who’s named June Euphemia.’
‘Unless it’s a boy,’ replies Natasha.
Those around us dissolve into fits of laughter. Though not Mac and me. But we are still smiling...
