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Tabi grinned at her. ‘By the end of this evening we’re going to know more about you than even your own mother.’
Sabrina flicked her hand at the comment. ‘Wouldn’t be hard.’
‘Hey, everyone, nice to meet you,’ said the blond farm boy crossed with a linebacker. He had the most open and honest smile Ben had seen in a long time. ‘I’m Jonathan.’
‘Hey, Jonathan,’ replied Tabi. ‘Who’s your surly older brother?’
‘No idea,’ he said cheerfully, before extending his arm to Bigfoot. ‘I’m Jonathan.’
There was a pause that nearly became embarrassing, before Bigfoot grasped the concept of etiquette, closely followed by Jonathan’s hand.
‘I’m Rory,’ he replied. ‘And I don’t drink.’
Tabi gave Rory a round of applause and he scowled at her. She winked, opened the first bottle of wine, then waved a wheel of cheese and a bar of chocolate in his face. He growled.
‘Right then, Jonathan, Sabrina, Tristan and Ben. Let’s get drunk and spill all our secrets. Kilt, you’re just going to have to do it high on fermented milk products and cocoa.’
Rory raised an eyebrow. ‘Kilt?’ he asked.
Tabi shrugged. ‘You’re flying to Edinburgh. Scottish: grumpy, bagpipes, kilt.’
Rory held up his massive hand, counting on his fingers. ‘American: loud, fanny pack, cheeseburgers.’
Tabi high-fived him. ‘Fuck, yeah!’ she yelled.
Ben grinned. Suddenly the delay didn’t seem so bad. This would be an impromptu party celebrating his last night in America. The closing of a chapter in his life before the start of a new one. He’d have a couple of drinks with some random strangers, then he’d leave for the UK and the most important meeting of his life.
Four hours later…
‘No, you carry a handkerchief and slap it against someone else’s when you dance. Or sticks. Actually, usually sticks. The bells are on your knees. And you’ve gorra have a beard. So you’d be no good,’ Ben slurred as he tried to explain Morris dancing to Jonathan. Bloody fucking hell he was wasted.
‘And this is traditional?’ Jonathan asked.
‘Yeah, and cider. My dad makes scrumpy. You can drink it or use it to kill rats.’
Ben squinted to bring Jonathan’s face back into focus. ‘Why aren’t you drunk? I’m pissed as a fart.’
Jonathan smiled. ‘What else is in Somerset?’
‘Sheep. And lots of gorges. They’re gorgeous.’ Ben giggled at his own joke. ‘They’re gorgeous,’ he repeated between snorts.
‘What’s gorgeous?’ yelled Tabi.
‘Sheep,’ replied Jonathan. ‘Apparently this Somerset place is full of them.’
‘And that’s why you’re going back? For sheep?’ she asked incredulously.
The rest of the group started laughing, and even Rory managed a chuckle. Ben shook his head and tried to remember exactly why he was leaving America.
Oh fuck. Yes. That. He put his glass of wine down. He could not be hungover. He wouldn’t get a second chance to make a first impression.
Tabi waved her phone at him. ‘We’ve got your number now, Ben. You need to send us a picture of you with your favourite sheep.’
He grinned at his new friends. It could be the wine, the company, or the promise of the future, but right now he felt he could do this. Everything in Somerset was going to be perfect.
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