Lucy places her menu down. “She used to sleepwalk too,” she says fondly.
I groan instantly. “No.”
“Oh yes.” Her grin widens. “One time, we caught her peeing in the garden.”
Catherine bursts into laughter. Even Ray lets out a surprised snort beside me.
“I was six,” I mutter, sinking lower in my chair.
Lucy waves a dismissive hand. “Still counts.”
For the first time all evening, the tension eases slightly. Then Lucy turns her attention onto Ray.
“What about you?” she asks, narrowing her eyes slightly. “Any embarrassing childhood stories?”
I glance at him warily, silently apologising in advance.
Ray pauses for a moment before giving a small shrug. “Not that I remember.”
“Of course not,” Lucy mutters. “You’re far too controlled.”
“Lucy,” I hiss quietly.
But Ray doesn’t react the way I expect. Instead, he reaches for his water calmly. “I had to be. I grew up in care,” he says simply. “You learn pretty quickly to take care of yourself.”
Lucy’s expression shifts immediately to guilt.
“And when you spend most of your childhood trying not to be a burden,” he continues evenly, “fun and games tend to come after survival.”
Something aches painfully in my heart at how casually he says it. Like he’s long since accepted it.
“Embarrassing stories require adults who were around long enough to remember them,” he adds with the smallest shrug.
Silence settles heavily over the table, and I inwardly scream at Lucy for ruining the moment.
Then Ray glances up again. “Although Dale could probably tell you a thousand stories from when we were teenagers. Unfortunately, he remembers everything.”
The tension breaks just enough for Catherine to smile. Thankfully, the waiter appears then, and I release a quiet breath of relief as we order our food.
Once he leaves, I turn towards Catherine. “So, how’s retirement treating you?”
She sighs dramatically. “Boring.”
We all laugh.
“It’s nice not constantly working,” she admits. “But I’ve spent so long being needed that the silence feels unnaturally loud.”
Lucy nods knowingly. “If I had to spend every day with Alec, I’d lose my mind.”
Catherine laughs into her wine. “Did you never want children?”
Lucy shakes her head. “Not originally.” Her eyes drift briefly towards me. “No offence.”
“None taken.”
“But then I met my John when I was twenty,” she says softly, her entire expression changing at the mention of him. “And suddenly I wanted everything with him.” Emotion tightens her voice slightly. “We found out later I couldn’t have children naturally anyway.” She gives a small shrug. “Then a year after that, he died.”
Catherine’s face softens immediately. “I’m so sorry.”
