‘Hi, Auntie Alex.’
Eight-year-old Lily Cooper sat cross-legged on the floor, her eyes glued to the television.
‘How are you, sweetheart?’ Alex asked.
‘Good, thanks.’
‘What are you watching?’
‘Return to Oz. The best Oz.’
Lily appeared to be the only person so far who was dressed, hair done and ready to go, even if her black pinafore and red tights didn’t exactly scream ‘summer wedding’.
‘Return to Oz?That’s an ancient film,’ Alex responded. ‘I remember watching that as a kid. It was really creepy! Those things on wheels gave me nightmares.’
‘It’s my favourite film,’ she gushed. ‘Princess Mombi… she just takes… her head… off.’
Alex grinned. She was certain that when Beth gave birth to Lily eight years ago, she never envisaged her kid being this delightfully ghoulish. Alex adored her. They all did.
‘Have you seen your Aunt Erin?’
‘There’s shouting coming from that way.’ Lily pointed towards the kitchen. ‘I think she’s cross at Aunt Becky.’
‘Really?’ she replied. Erin was rarely cross with anyone, what on earth could Becky have done?
‘Rebecca Murphy, I love you, but I swear if you don’t stop putting tiny heads in my freezer, I will never invite you back.’
Alex popped her head around the side of the kitchen door to see Erin, holding up a frozen photo of Ryan Reynolds. ‘Why is he in here?’ Erin asked. ‘The man’s a treasure, he hasn’t done a thing to you!’
‘Exactly,’ Becky replied. ‘Imagine if I hadn’t put him in there last year.’ She shuddered. ‘It doesn’t even bear thinking about.’
‘I have twelve heads in here,’ Erin said, acknowledging Alex by the door as Becky flitted back into the living room. ‘Graeme thinks it’s hilarious, but it’s starting to give me the bloody creeps. Last year I lifted some frozen veg and found Tom Hanks underneath.’
Four years after she scattered Scott’s ashes on the beach, Erin became friends with a photographer named Graeme Hall. Graeme was good for Erin. He made her laugh, gave her space, and understood that he would need to take it slow and while she didn’t fall in love quickly, when she did, she fell hard. She wasn’t sure if she’d ever marry again, but for now, Graeme was enough. More than enough.
‘Would you happen to be a little stressed?’ Alex asked, looking at Erin’s hair half in heated rollers and the other half in dire need of a comb through. Makeup smeared the front of her pink dressing gown.
‘Of course I am,’ she barked. ‘There’s a wedding here in two hours, everyone is running late and Ryan bloody Reynolds is sitting atop my ice trays.’
‘Can I do anything?’
‘Oh, let me think… are you wedding ready?’ Erin asked, her brows furrowing as far as her Botox would allow.
Alex looked down at her trusty Skechers. ‘Um, no.’
She tapped her imaginary watch. ‘Two. Hours. Just get ready in my room and the downstairs bathroom has the best lighting for makeup.’
Alex retreated to the living room where she found Becky painting her toenails bright blue. ‘Bit nuts around here,’ she remarked. ‘Where’s Julianne?’
Becky motioned to the patio. ‘She’s outside with the others, being sociable.’
Alex liked Julianne immensely. She had been dating Becky for two years and, unlikeshe who shall not be spoken about, thought Becky was the greatest woman ever to walk the earth.
‘Any sign of Tara?’ Becky asked. ‘If she doesn’t show soon, Erin is likely to hyperventilate.’
‘Well, Ben was out front talking with Paul and Beth a while ago so she must be around somewhere. If she doesn’t turn up, I say we just adopt him in her place.’
‘Fair enough. Can you blow on my toes?’
