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‘These are my other brothers, Leo and Connor,’ Estelle said. ‘And one of my sisters, Willow. Our other sister, Summer, is currently in France.’
James started towards them and they stood, their posture stiff, as if not knowing whether to punch him or shake his hand.
‘I’m James,’ he said, wishing he was in an alternate universe where they’d never heard his name before.
The man with blond hair was the nearest. ‘I’m Leo. Good to meet you.’
Is it? Really? James took his hand and tried to smile, but his mouth was refusing to comply with the directive from his brain.
‘Connor,’ said the man sat at the end of the table opposite Arthur.
James shook his hand.
‘And I’m Willow,’ said a pretty woman with her blonde hair dyed blue and tied into two plaits.
Looking at her, James was suddenly reminded of Estelle’s unicorn slippers.
Willow waved him over. ‘You’re here, between me and Estelle.’
James went around the table and sat as everyone took their seats. What was going to happen now, and when could they leave? He stared at the plate in front of him, wanting to be anywhere other than this living hell. His mother may have dreamed of sitting down to dinner with the Duke of Somerset and his family, but this was James’s version of a nightmare.
‘Can I get you a drink?’ Willow asked him. ‘Wine, beer, water?’
‘Water, thank you,’ he replied, his mouth feeling full of sand. ‘I’m driving.’
She poured him a glass. Estelle reached for a bottle of red wine, sloshed it into a tumbler, then drained it in four large gulps.
‘Ooh, look!’ Leo said. ‘Estelle’s making an effort! She didn’t drink from the bottle!’
His sister ignored him.
Arthur got to his feet, clinking the side of his wine glass with a knife. ‘Let’s have a toast! To the joining of our families!’
What the fuck? Across the table, Henry’s eyes widened and his hands formed into fists. James glared at him.
‘Dad!’ Estelle hissed.
Arthur ignored her, raising his glass in one hand, the other waving through the air as if he were conducting a choir. ‘To the joining of our families!’
James kept his mouth shut.
Pulling a walkie-talkie from a pocket, Arthur pressed a button, then shouted into it. ‘Foxbrooke One to the kitchen, over!’
There was a burst of static, then a voice came back. ‘Roger that, Foxbrooke One, Red Leader on standby, over.’
James glanced at Estelle. A muscle was twitching in her jaw.
‘Roger, roger, jammy dodger, Red Leader. We’re all present, correct, and ready for launch.’ He gave everyone around the table a big wink. ‘On my mark, deploy dinner!’
Estelle grabbed the bottle in front of her and poured herself another glass.
‘In three, two, one, go!’ Arthur yelled. ‘Foxbrooke One over and out!’ He waved the walkie-talkie at everyone. ‘Can’t believe I didn’t think of this years ago! It was Libby’s idea. Bally clever.’
Going to the door, Arthur opened it and a woman in her fifties entered, wheeling a cart filled with food. He helped her place the dishes on the table.
‘Perry, our cook,’ he said, ‘also known as Red Leader, has prepared this dinner with Libby’s and my assistance, in honour of our partnership with BDE Entertainment! It’s got more big dick energy than you can shake a stick at. We’ve got horny goat masala, lady finger balti, aubergine, or as Vivienne would say, eggplant, madras, and tandoori bull testes!’
‘Dad!’ Henry hissed. ‘What the f—’
