‘An orange juice, please.’ I keep my eyes straight ahead.
Someone calls my name, and we both turn to find Yan waving at us and miming drinking.
‘Another beer, please,’ says Mark to the barman.
He takes a step back, judging that standing so close to me might not be a great look in front of Yan.
I take the opportunity to whip out my debit card and press it against the card reader even though Mark’s got his ready in his hand.
When Yan joins us, he takes the pitchers off Mark, leaving me to carry the tray with the beers and juice. Yan walks betweenus so I don’t have to talk to Mark, which gives my breathing a chance to get back to normal.
Just before we reach the group, Mark stops to pull out his phone. ‘I need to talk to the nursing home.’
He takes his bottled beer from my tray. ‘Arigato,’ he murmurs, his voice like silk.
Yan’s too busy dispensing drinks to notice my flushed cheeks.
Mark wanders off to make his call, and I rejoin the others.
Stav and Julie have arrived, looking remarkably sober and, in Stav’s case, decidedly grumpy.
‘How come you guys are back early?’ I ask. ‘Did they run out of wine?’
Julie is trying not to laugh, but Stav looks like he wants to murder someone.
‘Yeah, so my intel was wrong,’ he says. ‘There was no free booze. There was just a boring old guy wanging on about the history of the Andreou Family winery. For ninety minutes.’
‘You couldn’t leave early?’
Julie giggles. ‘Stav insisted we sit in the centre of the front row. So it was too awkward to move.’
‘You poor thing, Stav.’ I have a hunch I know what’s happened, though.
‘This inside info … it didn’t come from Yan, did it?’
Yan, who’s heard all of this, is bent double from laughing.
‘You bastard!’ says Stav. ‘And on the way there, I was telling Julie how I wanted to buy you a few nice bottles for your birthday. Or even do a joint party like we used to when we were kids.’
‘I think I can throw a decent party without you,’ retorts Yan.
Tig grins. ‘Yan’s parties were legendary. It’s where I had my first spliff.’
Yan looks around, anxious. ‘Jesus, Tig, Mum and Dad are here somewhere. You can’t go around broadcasting stuff like that.’
‘And Nella had the best make-out session of her life at your nineteenth.’ She grins at me. ‘Right, Nell?’
‘I’ve no idea what you’re talking about,’ I reply, holding myself very still.
‘I don’t know that story,’ says Pen.
‘Well—’ Tig begins.
‘Leave it,’ I snap.
She huffs. ‘I’m not implying you were a slag or anything. It was with Leo.’
In my peripheral vision, I see Mark returning. He freezes when he hears his brother’s name.
