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Chris flinched at the sight of his son’s painted nails. He wasn’t what you’d call a progressive, his half-brother.
Zac approached Matt. ‘I was worried you wouldn’t come.’
Matt gave him a wry look. ‘And miss all the fun?’
Zac turned his head away so his parents wouldn’t see his grin.
Poppy came rushing over to greet her cousin and threw her arms around him. ‘I’m so excited to be a bridesmaid,’ she said, jumping up and down. At thirteen, Poppy was completely oblivious to the strained atmosphere surrounding her. ‘I’ve chosen my dress,’ she said, her tall, skinny frame almost reaching Zac’s shoulder. ‘It’s pale gold with lots of netting and a giant bow. Mummy-Lily is going to make it for me.’
Mummy-Lily was Poppy’s name for her new stepmother, a way of embracing her new mum without forgetting her old one, who’d tragically died ten years ago in a skiing accident.
Zac kissed Poppy’s forehead. ‘Sounds cool, kiddo.’
‘That’s if the wedding goes ahead,’ Gemma quipped.
Zac sighed heavily and sat down next to Matt, his only ally. ‘I guess it’s time for the conversation then.’
Will patted his daughter’s hand. ‘Take the dog for a run around the garden, sweetie. There’s a good girl.’
Poppy looked dejected. ‘But I want to stay and talk about the wedding.’
‘There isn’t going to be a wedding,’ Chris snapped.
‘No wedding?’ Poppy’s eyes grew wide. ‘Why not?’
Will glared at Chris before turning to his daughter. ‘The adults need to have a talk, sweetie. You go and play. We won’t be long.’
‘But I’m thirteen, almost an adult. Why can’t I stay?’
Lily got up and took Poppy’s hand. ‘Come on, Poppy. Let’s go and pat the ponies in the neighbouring field.’
Poppy allowed herself to be dragged off. ‘Ohhhkaaay.’
Matt resisted the urge to follow them. Patting ponies sounded nice.
He took another swig of beer.
Zac waited until they were out of earshot. ‘Thanks for coming, everyone,’ he said, rubbing his hands on his jeans. ‘I know it feels like an ambush, but I’m sick of everyone busting my balls every time I mention the wedding.’
‘Language!’ Gemma glared at her son.
Matt shifted on the wooden garden chair, making it creak again. This was a fun way to spend the day.
Chris folded his arms. ‘Is there a reason you invited Uncle Matt to this discussion? This is a family matter.’
There it was again, the dig about him not being part of the family. Rub it in, why don’t you.
‘Uncle Matt’s helping me plan the wedding,’ Zac said, defiantly. ‘That’s why he’s here. He’s also my best man.’
‘An irrelevance, because there’s not going to be a wedding,’ Gemma said irritably. ‘We’ve already spoken about this, you’re far too young.’
Zac ran a hand through his black quiff. ‘We haven’t spoken about it. You lay down the law and we end up arguing – you never listen to me or let me speak. I’m not backing down this time, you need to accept my decision and stop blocking me.’
Gemma wasn’t used to her son answering back. ‘We can’t sit back and watch you make a mistake.’
‘It’s not a mistake.’
‘It is in our eyes.’ Chris crossed his legs, a match for his crossed arms, which made him look totally closed off – probably the intention. ‘It’s a disaster waiting to happen.’
