Page 13 of And A Partridge on Pear Street

What is happening?

“Just so you know,” he speaks low and soft. “I’ve seen all of your posts, Nel. Every. Last. One. At first, I wanted to be supportive by following you. But then… then I couldn’t stop if I tried.”

He pushes off the car and strolls to the front door without looking back. Leaving me reeling, opening and closing my mouth like a freakin’ guppy still trying to figure out what any of that even means.

CHAPTER SEVEN

“Avenge me.”

JAKE

Breakfast is a friggin’ spread. Lisa is always amazing at hosting even when I pop by for a beer on a weekend, she has snacks at the ready. But this is something else. Eggs, bacon, sausage, hashbrowns, fried bread, toast, croissants, homemade jam, waffles, syrup, pancakes, and I think there were some chocolate pastries, but my Godsons have disappeared under the table with plates piled high with them. Everyone is tucking in with what can only be described as gusto and telling Lisa how amazing she is. She waves her hand at the compliments dismissively. But Harry doesn’t let her, telling her how incredible everything is and placing gentle kisses first on her head and then her protruding baby bump.

“Hey, Nelly-Belly,” Harry calls down the table.

She freezes with a hash brown halfway to her plate looking at her brother, waiting for him to continue.

“Try and save some for everyone else, yeah?” He chuckles to himself and goes back to speaking to Charles. Nel‘s eyes dart around the table before she puts what I believe is her first hash brown back. She sits back with just some eggs and bacon on her plate and eats slowly and self-consciously. I suddenly want to punch my best friend, which is a completely new feeling. Has he always been such a dick? I fear he may have been and I have failed to ever notice. I love Harry, he’s like a brother to me, but perhaps the teasing banter we enjoy as friends doesn’t quite translate to siblinghood. Has Nel always been affected by words? How much have I unwittingly contributed to whatever it is that has her retreating back into her shell and moving further from the siren I have been dying to meet?

Because I’m a little pissed at Harry, and because I’m trying to remind Nel of who she is, I clear my throat until everyone is looking. “Nel, have you ever photographed any celebrities?”

I know she has. Her popularity on social media has drawn the attention of some very minor celebrities and they have done some of the more risqué shoots, probably to boost their own online interaction. But if Lisa’s cousin hears anything about a celebrity, she’ll immediately want to see photographic evidence. Nel stares at me across the table, knowing now that I’m fully aware of her content, she clearly understands that I’m bringing it up on purpose. And she doesn’t seem happy about it. I just smile innocently at her as everyone waits eagerly for a reply.

“I, um…well—”

“Oh my God! You have, haven’t you?” Rhiannon’s eyes are wide and excited.

“Well,‘celebrity’may be a bit of a strong word.”

“We’ll be the judge of that,” Hen says, matching her daughter’s energy.

“Uh, okay…” Nel seems to think for a second and I dart a look at Harry who is fidgeting uncomfortably. Honestly, he’s not normally such a stick in the mud. But Lisa’s dad being an actual Lord and the founder and previous CEO of a highly successful tech company, and her mother being an ex-minister, he does get understandably flustered in their presence. “Do you know Kaci Kai?”

Rhiannon and Hen share an excited glance. “You mean the woman from Mayfair MILFs?”

I snort at Harry’s grimace. He told me Lisa was an avid watcher of the reality TV show in question and after we suffered through a couple of episodes with her, we agreed that neither of us would like to F any of the Ms. Not a looks thing. More an unbelievably-annoying-whiny-first-world-problems-toxic-drama personality thing.

“Oh my God, I love that show,” Lisa groans.

“Yeah. Well, I photographed her.” Nel nods, looking down at the table.

“Ooh, let me see!” Rhiannon stretches an arm out as though Nel should just pass her phone over.

Nel sighs and looks at all the children. “They’re not exactly suitable for present company.”

“Oh,” Rhiannon says, confused and then as realisation dawns, “Oooohh.” She smirks at Nel. “Yeah, after the discussion last night, I looked you up on Instagram. You’re a bit of a dark horse, aren’t you?”

“Oh?” Charles asks.

“Right,” Harry stands. “Everyone appears to be finished, let’s get cleared up and head out for that walk, wouldn’t want to overrun the schedule, would we, dearest?” He looks at Lisa for support and she rolls her eyes at his neurosis.

“No, darling.” She stands to collect some dishes and glares at me, circling a clenched fist in a stirring motion, mouthing ‘shit stirrer.’ I give her my best, most charming smile and wink. She just smirks, shaking her head as she walks away. I look over to Nel to see that she’s watching the exchange and I catch something in her eyes that flares heat through the lower half of my body.Was that jealousy, Penelope?

We drive to Orchard Common as Lisa pulls the pregnancy card and says she’s too round to walk to a walk. The grounds are high and hilly and there is a light dusting of snow on the grassy areas. The boys immediately start throwing snowballs at each other and the little ones are desperate to join, toddling precariously on uneven ground. Luke stays close to them, helping them ball tiny fistfuls of snow to throw at Lucas and Oscar who return fire with such gentleness, I feel immensely proud of them.

“Uncle Jake,” Lucas calls. “Come play with us.”

Well, I can’t turn down a good snowball fight, so that’s what we do. All while the ‘grown-ups’ walk along the paved pathway, talking about boring ‘grown-up’ things. We follow them while sticking to the grass, trying to hit each other with snow, although our ammunition is sparce. We soon come across a playground and the kids quickly lose sight of our game. Undeterred by the wet snow on all the equipment, they’re soon scrambling on climbing frames and slides while Rhiannon and Luke each help a twin into a baby swing. The grandparents head into the playground too, doting on grandchildren and indulging them in fun and enthusiastic play.