Page 13 of On Circus Lane

“Only because it took Freddy half an hour to fit Georgina’s cases in the boot. He rang while you were asleep. He said he might have been a world Jenga champion if only he’d applied himself to those talents earlier in life.”

We drove over the border a while back, and the scenery has already changed, so the services are nice and surrounded by snow-topped hills. It’s freezing cold, and I opt to stay outside by the car, letting the chilly air wake me up. Bee takes his own icy air inside, vanishing into the restaurant with Steven and Ivy.

I watch Freddy pull up, stop the engine, and open the car’s door. “Morning, darling,” he shouts across the car park.

“Morning, sugar tits.”

It takes a while for him to extract himself, as he’s six feet five inches and all muscle. An old couple nearby eyes his bulk and shaved-close hair dubiously, which is a shame because he’s the sweetest person I know and has never met anyone he couldn’t befriend.

“Where’s the tosser?” he calls.

Okay, not everyone. I nod at the restaurant. “In there with Bee and Ivy.” I blink as he comes closer. “Why are you wearing a tutu over your jeans?”

“It’s tartan.”

“Oh, okay. That explains everything.”

My sister gets out of the car and joins us. “Bloody hell, it’s freezing,” she squeals. Her eyes narrow. “Why aren’t you in there?”

“Needed some fresh air,” I say lamely.

She eyes me as if she doesn’t believe a word I’m saying, which is understandable.

I spy Theo and Georgina asleep in the back seat of Freddy’s car. They’re leaning against each other, and it’s probably the only time all day they haven’t been arguing.

“Tell me—have I done something to piss Bee off?” I ask Sal.

“When did you meet him?” she asks. “I can start the pissed-off countdown clock from that moment.”

“You’re not funny,” I grump. “No matter what your friends say.”

She narrows her eyes for a moment. “I remember.” She clicks her fingers. “You were a bit sharp with him last night.”

“I was?”

She nods. “Yeah, when you were talking to yonder cockwomble.”

“And who’s that?” Jack says, approaching us from the left. He raises an eyebrow. “Cockwomble?”

“Oh, I was talking about Freddy,” my sister says, lying glibly. I’ve always envied her this ability. I can’t lie for shit. Never have been able to.

Freddy yawns, as affable as ever. “That’s me.” He looks around. “Why are we all standing in the carpark?”

Sal waves her hand. “Tom’s pissed off Bee.”

Freddy blinks. “What,already?”

“Well, he has known him for more than twelve hours, Freddy.”

“Oh yeah, sorry.”

“Hey,” I say, and they break into laughter. Then I squeak as Freddy seizes me and starts a slow two-step around the car park. “Dance with me, Tom,” he croons. “That’ll make you feel better.”

“Or sick,” I point out as he gives me some less-than-elegant spins.

“There’s always a critic.”

BEE

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