“Got Ry to thank for introducing us.”
Ryan jammed his hands in his pockets and asked how long till dinner.
They ate in the dining room, the photos of Kellan and Heather beaming down from the family shrine, eyeing up his mound of roast potatoes and looking virtuous.
Modelling his behaviour on Jules – who always became a quieter, more watchful version of themself in Kellan’s company – Ryan gave short, straight answers when questioned and shoved another forkful into his face to avoid saying anything more. It wasn’t so hard. Despite the fact that neither Heather nor her fiancé were there, all Auntie Lou talked about was the wedding, Tim nodding along like spaffing half his salary on a covers band didn’t bother him.
Ryan enjoyed Freya’s surprise when she found out they were having it at Rabscuttle.
“Oh. That’s where I work.” She darted a glance at Kellan that no one other than Ryan noticed.
“Well hopefully you won’t be working on New Year, poppet,” Auntie Lou said, patting her hand, her face creasing up in a smile. “You’ll be there as a guest. You’re family now.”
Given that Freya had been going out with Kellan approximately 20 seconds and had yet to meet Heather – the actual bride – this seemed like a bit of a leap, but Auntie Lou’s heart was as big as Tim’s budget.
Inevitably, clearing the table fell to him and Kellan – Jules the baby, Freya (despite being family now) the guest. The two of them made short work of it, Ryan gathering up all the plates, scraping what little was left into the composting bin, already overflowing with peelings and prep, so that when Auntie Lou breezed into the kitchen to collect the crumble, warm from the oven, she invoked the “be a love” clause of nephewhood and had him take the lot outside.
When he came back, Freya had joined her boyfriend by the sink – the pair of them completely ignoring the jug of custard they needed to bring next door.
“Break it up.” Ryan elbowed them aside so he could wash his hands.
“While you’re there, mate” – Kellan held out most of a bottle of wine – “chuck that lot down the sink. Dad says it’s corked. Not fit for drinking.”
But Freya intercepted the bottle, frowning. “Not wishing to show your dad up with my waitress credentials, but screw tops can’t be corked.” She gave it a sniff. “This is fine.”
“It’s not fine,” Kellan said, gently removing it from her grasp and holding it out to Ryan. “It’s a corner-shop bottle of piss that no one is going to drink.”
Dismay dawned as Freya looked from her boyfriend, to Ryan, via the wine Mam had brought round. Ryan took the bottle and started pouring its contents into the sink, but Freya was in the way, tipping the neck back so that some of it splashed out across the striped sleeve of her top.
“What? No. This is a waste. Where’s the lid?”
Kellan held it up a second before he clenched his fist round the cap, crumpling the metal. “No idea.”
“Kellan!” she hissed, giving him a shove. “You’re being an absolute wanker. Did your dad even say anything, or are you just trying to wind him up?”
But Kellan gave her a scowl that Ryan knew all too well. “Maybe you should stay out of family matters, yeah?”
Whatever her reply, it got drowned with a twist of the tap as Ryan rinsed away the wine staining the sink. Freya was still there when he’d finished – although Kellan had vanished along with the custard.
“There’s nothing wrong with that wine,” she said, voice drenched in pity. “You could have taken it home and used it in a sauce or something.”
“Do I look like Jamie fucking Oliver?” Ryan hated her for seeing what just happened, hated the pity in her voice.
“Drink it then—”
“You really don’t know how to take a hint, do you?” Ryan snapped as he dried his hands. “This has nowt to do with you.”
“I was just trying to stick up for you—”
“Why?” Ryan hissed, anger turning him mean. “Kellan’s the one you’re banging. Not me.”
LUCAS
For all Lucas had done a lot of telling himself not to expect to see Sunny tonight, that hadn’t stopped him from hoping. The sight of her sister sitting on her own in the conservatory, hip propped on the window sill, was a shot of adrenaline into the heart of that hope. If Win was here, surely Sunny was too.
“Hi? Win?”
Win glanced up. Her make-up and her clothes were just that little bit edgier than earlier. “Lucas. Hi. Just a sec.” As cool and collected sitting on her own at someone else’s party as she’d seemed up at Rabscuttle. Lucas watched her finish whatever she was typing and wished he could feel that comfortable asking someone to wait ten seconds for his attention.
“Want some?” Win held up the bottle next to her.
“What is it?”
As she studied the label, Lucas thought how she looked so much and so little like her sister, same as the similarities between his cousins. “According to this it’s a zesty lemon-infused beverage with maximum flavour and minimum sugar but I would have gone with ‘lemonade’.”
“In which case, hit me up.” He accepted the cup she handed him, glad to have something to take away the taste of JD that lingered at the back of his tongue. “So … um … are you all here then? Sophie” – the safest name to say first, before he looked down at the contents of his cup to finish with – “and Sunny?”
“Yes.” When he looked up, Win was smiling like she knew something he didn’t, a curve of the lips and no sign of any dimples – nothing of Sunny in her smile. “We are. Sunny’s exploring and Sophie’s out there.” She tipped her head in the direction of the lounge. “We’re all here to help.”
She raised her cup and tapped it to his.
“Gan bei.” She tucked away a smile. “Cheers in Mandarin.”
“Ya mas.” He grinned. The only Greek he’d picked up from his family was to do with eating and drinking and cursing. All the best forms of love.
Win looked over his shoulder and nodded. “Looks like we’re about to have company.”
Lucas turned to stand next to her – if that company was Kellan it might be best for Lucas to do the introductions. Friends of friends got warmer welcomes than cold-callers.
He needn’t have worried. Sophie was with him and when she saw Win, she immediately came to sit with her and slip a casual arm across her shoulders. He felt Win tense, but then Sophie was saying something about being worried she’d lost her and Win twisted round to pick up a can of drink and pass it to her, so that he was the one who felt out of place.
“Check this out.” Kellan held out his phone to show him a picture of Ryan, still in his school shirt – a massive spunking penis scrawled across his forehead. Ryan’s face was pure fury and the ear in shot looked hot enough to melt off the side of his head.
“Don’t think the lass who’s looking for him will be so interested if Ry’s still got this on his head.” The way he was looking at Win framed his question and Lucas gave a slight shake of the head.
“This is Win, she’s—”