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‘Well,yeah, but that’s only cos nobody talked about him much. Our man of mystery here, huh?’ He ruffles Will’s hair now before slinging a heavy arm around his shoulders enough to knock the wind out of Will.
He coughs, trying to recover, but manages, ‘Uh, thanks? I think.’
‘Say something in Latin again, mate. Go on.’
Will rolls his eyes, but it’s good-natured. He’s flushed, a little sweaty, and even less steady on his feet than usual, but he seems to be having a great time. Enjoying a little spotlight for once, maybe.
He thinks about it for a moment then lifts his glass, declaring, ‘In vino veritas!’
‘In vino veritas!’ we all chorus, lifting our own glasses, sloppily clinking them together in the centre.
‘Technically, I guess it’s “inPimm’sveritas”,’ he tells me afterwards in a low voice, snorting at his own joke and dissolving into giggles. Monty, not even hearing what the joke is, joins in the laughter. Tasha gives a thin ‘Ha-ha’ so as not to be left out and stands impatiently, her gaze flicking over her shoulder as she debates leaving. I wouldn’t be sorry if she did. I’d love to know Will’s take on her.
Verity and Izzy come over to join us, arms linkedand eyes bright. They lean on each other slightly for balance. They’re chatting animatedly about something and flag us down, though we aren’t going anywhere.
‘Settle a debate for us,’ Izzy calls. ‘What’s the best tree?’
‘And you can’t say Christmas tree,’ Verity says, levelling us each with a stern look in turn. ‘Because that doesn’t count.’
‘It absolutely does,’ Izzy grumbles, pouting, but everybody is suddenly too busy debating different kinds of trees – the most inane thing turning very quickly into an intense discussion. Tasha rolls her eyes, but is quick enough to lay down her argument for lemon trees.
Behind her, I notice Lloyd stepping away from a few people. Taking a breather, maybe. He rolls his shoulders, stretching a little, rubbing the back of his neck before taking a swig of his pint. His face tilts up towards the last of the sunlight before it can vanish completely behind a nearby building.
While the others are distracted (‘Who’s ever actuallyseena fig tree?’ Verity wants to know) I excuse myself and slip away. Lloyd doesn’t seem to notice me until I’m almost within arm’s reach. He blinks in the golden, hazy summer evening light, turning to face me. A toothy,lopsided smile peels across his face. Each move is leisurely, deliberate. He’s a bit drunk, I realize.
Same.
‘Saw you hanging out with your new bestie.’ He nods to where I left Will with the others.
‘Yeah. He’s going down a storm – everyone loves him.’
Lloyd’s face splits into a fond smile. ‘I’m not surprised. Once he gets chance to come out of his shell a little, he’s a real social butterfly.’
‘How about you? Having fun?’
‘Always do.’ He takes another drink. ‘You?’
‘Sure am.’
Somewhere nearby, there’s a loud, booming laugh. It’s jolly, spurring on a few other people to laugh too. I start to look around, although I already know the source of it – I’ve heard that laugh plenty today. It’s Topher. In front of me, Lloyd cringes.
‘Can I ask you something?’ I say.
‘Hopefully it’s not about my secret to winning boules, because that’s all natural talent, baby. Can’t be taught.’
‘It’s not. It’s just … That first night we met, you said your dad never smiles anymore, since … since your mum passed. So I’d pictured this grumpy, sullen kind of guy with a face like thunder who always lookedpissed off at the whole world, but … I mean, hedoessmile. A lot. He’s always smiling around the office. I guess I just don’t get it, is all.’
‘Oh. Right,’ says Lloyd quietly, and then he falls silent. His mouth presses into a downturned line, a muscle jumping in his jaw. A small pucker appears between his eyebrows and I regret asking at all, if it’s made him look like this.
But after hearing some of the truth from Will, understanding Lloyd better, I’m even more curious than before. He’s never sounded like he resents his dad, but I wonder what else I don’t understand about him.
Glancing around, Lloyd says, ‘Let’s go somewhere to talk.’
Our options are a little bit limited, but nobody pays us any attention as we wander to the far side of the garden near the trees in the corner, disappearing into the small grove.
It’s cool here, dark beneath a thick canopy of leaves. There’s a greenish glow to the shadows that makes Lloyd’s eyes glitter that bit brighter, a freshness in the air that feels sobering as it fills my lungs. The ground is soft, the grass longer and patchier than on the main lawn. The noise of the party feels muted, but maybe that’s more to do with the fact that Lloyd has so much of my attention right now than our perceived privacy.
Lloyd finds a spot against the brick wall that the trees are so artfully disguising, leaning against it with a heavy sigh and pushing his sunglasses further up on top of his head. He offers me a small, half-hearted smile that pulls at one side of his mouth and then the other, disappearing as soon as it shows itself, and then he slides down to sit in the grass, setting his half-finished drink at his side. Heavily, he pats a hand to the empty spot beside him, head lolling back to rest against the wall. I join him; I sit a bit closer than I meant to, and our legs press flush against each other. It sends a little fizz of warmth through me, but Lloyd doesn’t seem to react, and I worry that it’ll make things weird if I make a big deal out of moving away.
