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‘Oh!’ He remembers. Jack always remembers the little things. ‘Well. One is coral. And .?.?.’
‘Green,’ Cate jumps in. ‘Like, most greens.’
‘Yes. And one that definitely isn’t my colour is pastel blue, apparently, so—’ I gesture down to my light blue T-shirt. ‘Good to know.’
‘Is that so?’ Jack smiles, eyes flicking for a second to my T-shirt. Cate is going to pierce my skin with her fingernails (that’s if I don’t come out in a massive, red-hot, embarrassed rash first).
‘So, let’s have it.’ Jonny looks at me, smiling, and crosses his large, tattooed arms. ‘How is he at work then? He a flake at work?’
‘A flake?’ Jack laughs. ‘Fuckin’ hell, Jon.’
‘Yup,’ Jonny says, monotonedly. ‘The man who spends his life pissing off and leaving us. How is he to work for? You counting down?’
‘Leaving you.’ Jack shakes his head, but something passes over his face. That shadow of seriousness again. The reluctance. ‘Bit dramatic. You just miss me, don’t you?’
‘Ha.’ I laugh. ‘Well. I wouldn’t say flake, no. A very tight ship, this man does run.’ And I am not entirely sure why I’m talking like some sort of Tudor, but what I’d really like to do is sit down opposite Jonny and say, ‘TELL ME EVERYTHING. Leave not a stone unturned.’
‘Intriguing,’ says Jonny. ‘He’s been trying to get me out on the boat.’
‘The boat?’
Jack nods. ‘Enam has a boat.Instinct.Trying to convince Jon to come out with me on it before I leave. But apparently I’m aflake, so I retract my invite.’
‘Nah, I don’t trust you as a sailor, mate. Too cocky to be a sailor. I’m staying here, on land. Right, Elton?’
Jack laughs as Jonny ruffles Elton’s head. Elton looks delighted. ‘What about you? Coming out with me, Millie?’
‘On .?.?. a boat?’
Cate squeezes my arm. She’s like a human blood pressure cuff.
‘Yes,on a boat,’ Jack repeats.
‘With a cocky sailor?’ I ask. ‘I’ll, erm, get back to you on that one.’
Did he .?.?. mean that? Was that an actual real invitation? It felt like one. And Cate certainly thinks it is. She is practically scarring the skin on my arms. Marks I’ll be able to show my children one day, like an injured pirate. ‘These marks, my little loves, are when your auntie Cate sliced me with her nails because she was very excited your mother was invited on a boat by a very handsome man in a gilet.’
‘So, will I be seeing you at the party?’ Jack asks me, slotting his hands in his pockets. ‘Summer-ween .?.?.’
‘I decided to go, yeah. Well, I was sort offorcedby this livewire because she had an outfit she wouldn’t let me refuse.’
‘Yup. Sorted the outfit toendall outfits,’ Cate says, as if I’m going to be arriving in a working Iron Man suit.
‘I’m intrigued,’ Jack says gruffly, eyes on me.
‘Will I recognise you?’ I rush out, trying to distract myself, stop the blush covering my body like a rash. ‘Or will you be, like, stuck in a donkey’s arse or something and I’ll have to spend the whole night trying to find you.’
‘I’m not giving away anything,’ he says, smiling, ‘not even to you. So you may just have to check every donkey’s arse until you find me.’
‘So, a – Jack Scavenger hunt.’
‘If you like.’
And Cate – I am going to kill Cate. She is grinning so much, it’s like she’s watching one of her favourite Hallmark movies back at the flat, and I swear, Jack has noticed. He keeps looking at her, as if he’s not entirely sure she isn’t drunk.
We say goodbye – a choir of polite nice to meet yous, and single-gesture waves.
‘And I’ll see you tomorrow,’ Jack says, leaning in. ‘I’m glad I could sway you.’
