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‘Oh, thank you. I spent an age wondering what to wear tonight. Tally’s always so fashionable that I feel a bit frumpy by comparison.’
I’m surprised by this sudden chink in her armour.
‘For what it’s worth I always think you’re very chic, like a classic English rose. I loved that you turned up to Sassy Sylvia’s in a Chanel suit.’
‘You did?’
I nod. ‘Not that you can really take my word for it when it comes to fashion. Up until recently, my little sister told me I dressed like a pallbearer.’
Celeste laughs. ‘That’s sisters for you. A pain in the bottom. Actually Sophie, I’ve been hoping to have a little one to one with you this weekend.’
‘Oh?’
Celeste takes a sip of her red wine and gives me a curious look. ‘I wanted to apologise. I wasn’t the most welcoming back in September when we first all met. I saw this successful single mum and honestly, I think I was a bit jealous.’
Well, blow me down!
‘And so I sort of didn’t make an effort. I shouldn’t have done that. Oscar’s so fond of Lila so it was churlish not to invite her to his party. The thing is, I rely on Douglas for everything. I’ve put aside my chance to have a career so I can support him and seeing you holding the family fort all on your own, well, I was envious. And then there came the romance with Joe and …’ she trails off.
I don’t know what to say. My mouth is dangling open. It’s an effort just to shut it.
‘Thank you,’ I say eventually. ‘For your honesty. I really appreciate it, Celeste. You know, it’s never too late to pursue a career if that’s what you want?’
She smiles wistfully. ‘Maybe. Once the elections are over, I’ll give it some serious thought.’
We turn to look back at the table and Joe gives me an are-you-okay look. I beam back.
‘You’re good for him,’ Celeste says as we make our way back for yet more food. ‘He’s so much more relaxed now.’
I feel like I’m floating on a cloud of success and also birthday cake. Tally had two cakes to celebrate, naturally. One’s a pavlova in the shape of the number forty, covered in fresh fruit, and the second is a three-tier buttercream creation covered in gold leaf and macarons. I sampled both, several times with no regrets, and now we’re being ushered outside for what’s being called the grand finale.
‘But it’s pitch-black!’ Frankie protests.
‘I’ve got the firepit going,’ Jude, who’s standing on the terrace, calls back inside. ‘Come on out!’
Joe grabs my hand as we file outside. It’s another moment I decide not to question what we are doing because
a. I like it and
b. I just don’t want to deal with my feelings right now.
This Welsh air has a lot to answer for.
Overhead a mesmerising firework display starts popping and fizzing in the night sky. We ‘ooh’ and ‘ahh’ at the juddering flashes of colour and light. When I shiver Joe gallantly wraps his blazer around my shoulders and I nestle in to his residual warmth.
Tally has cuddled up to Jude with one hand holding out her phone as she streams the display. Frankie and Dave are leaning against each other like they’re propping themselves up. Celeste and Douglas are holding hands. Olivia and Nish are snuggled up on a bench. Mel’s trying to get her husband to down a pint of water because she’s worried about hydration.
I look back at Joe, caught off guard to find that he’s already peering down at me through those dark eyelashes. The look in his eyes is deeply intense. Sensible Sophie would crack a joke about him working overtime on the romance ruse, but I realise with a jolt that she is long gone.
Instead I feel myself matching his gaze, poised on the precipice of something I don’t want to overthink.
‘Sophie,’ Joe says softly in that confusingly delicious accent of his. ‘I …’ he trails off, a frown crossing his face as he rolls his bottom lip between his teeth. He catches the cut and flinches.
Without thinking, I reach my thumb up to touch it tenderly.
And just like that, there is nothing but us, no one else here in this moment. My entire focus is drawn to the way he is biting his lip, evidently in turmoil over what to say or do. I wait for him to finish his sentence but Joe is out of words. Instead he reaches his hand up to the side of my face, his thumb stroking along my jawline so slowly that I forget how to breathe.
I let out a gasp and it sets a fire burning in Joe’s eyes.
