‘Thank you, Alex,’ Tara replied.
‘If she doesn’t want to discuss those massive knockers, she doesn’t have to.’
Tara began to laugh. ‘Fine, OK. It was a spur-of-the-moment decision.’
Erin poured herself more tea. ‘Spur of the moment? Boobs aren’t an impulse purchase. You can’t just pop out and get them in your lunchbreak. Those things take planning.’
‘Fine! I had the cash and I went for it. Ten grand, not including the private hospital room and car ride home.’
‘Ten thousand dollars?’
‘Worth every penny,’ she replied to a shocked-looking Beth. ‘It’s probably the only decision I made in New York that I don’t regret.’
‘Can you breastfeed with implants?’ Beth asked. ‘I’ve always wondered.’
‘Yeah,’ Tara responded. ‘I made sure it wouldn’t be a problem, you know. If the need ever arises.’
‘I thought you never wanted kids,’ Becky said. ‘Or was that Alex?’
‘Me,’ Alex interjected, raising her hand. ‘I’m fine just being the group auntie when you all pop one out. Or three in Beth’s case…’
‘So come on,’ Tara said. ‘I can’t be the only one to have had some work done. It’s 2022!’
‘I’ve had a little Botox,’ Erin confessed. ‘Just once. My forehead looked like it had been polished, it was awful. And some liposuction. And maybe a chemical peel. Or six.’
Everyone started to laugh.
‘And here you are telling me to stop worrying about how I look!’ Alex said. ‘The hypocrisy!’
‘Completely different,’ Erin exclaimed. ‘You try looking at yourself on an IMAX screen. It’s unsettling.’
‘I haven’t had anything done,’ Beth admitted. ‘I’ve never even been waxed.’
‘Lies,’ Tara replied, ‘I clearly remember waxing your moustache before a night out. You were starting to look like Salvador Dali.’
‘I’ve thought about getting my tits done,’ Alex said, biting into some toast. ‘Not implants but maybe a wee lift. Gravity is already dragging these puppies towards my knees, heaven only knows what they’ll be like in my fifties.’
As breakfast continued, no one mentioned the previous evening. Nothing about Aiden or Christine or the absolute chaos that had unfolded. Perhaps there was nothing more to be said. It was all very calm, very civilised until Tara spotted the urn over the fireplace.
‘Is that…?’
Erin nodded. ‘Scott. Yes.’
‘Right. OK… So, are you just keeping him in there, or…?’
Alex laughed and choked on her tea at the same time.
‘Tara!’ Beth exclaimed, shooting a disapproving look at Alex for laughing. ‘You can’t just—’
‘What? Come on, we’re all thinking it! I’m not even sure Catholics are allowed to keep ashes at home, are you trying to give the Pope a heart attack or what?’
‘When have I ever been Catholic?’ Erin asked, ‘My parents are Protestant!’
Now Becky was laughing.
‘Really?’ Tara remarked. ‘I honestly thought you’d done the whole communion and everything. You had little photos in an album.’
‘Nope, that was me,’ Beth interjected. ‘My mammie still has the dress somewhere in the attic, on a mannequin like a haunted artifact.’
