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The air was scented with summer and the sea. As they crossed the lawn Tom saw them coming and got to his feet, leading everyone in a joyful, if slightly tuneless, rendition of ‘Happy Birthday’.
Perched precariously on Scarlet’s knee, Emilia bounced up and down in excitement, ecstatic at being the centre of attention. Imperiously ignoring the singing, she held up her arms squealing, ‘Dada!’ as her sloe-dark gaze fixed adoringly on Tristan.
He handed the open bottle to Nico, putting the other one down on the table so he could scoop his daughter up into his arms where she crowed in delight and pointed at the cake. Across the table Andrei fastened huge, worried eyes on the candle and for a moment it looked as if he might cry. But then Tristan picked him up in his other arm, kissing his dark silky head and murmuring reassurance, and the little face relaxed into a cautious smile.
Scarlet got to her feet with difficulty and came round to stand beside Lily as the singing reached its enthusiastic climax. Nico was circulating with the champagne, pausing beside Dimitri and squeezing his arm as he filled his glass. Holding the two babies in his arms, Tristan knelt down so they were at eye level with the cake. The candles cast a halo of soft golden light on their three faces, making stars dance in their eyes.
Closing her eyes in comical bliss, Emilia pursed her plump rosebud mouth and blew extravagantly. Scarlet clapped her hands with delight, blinking back tears. ‘Don’t forget to make a wish!’ she cried.
Across the table Tristan looked up, and his gaze met Lily’s. The candles guttered and died, but his eyes still shone with love.
‘I don’t need to,’ he said with quiet, ironic emphasis. ‘It’s already come true.’
