Page 54 of Good Sisters

Harry had almost had a full-on heart attack when I’d suggested sending out a text asking everyone to put thirty euros into a kitty to help pay for the party. It wasn’t because we needed it, but because I wanted to stop this ridiculous pressure being put on the captain’s parents in the future.

Needless to say, I was not allowed to send that text. I’d say people probably went bankrupt rather than refuse to host the sacred party.

‘Fine, you’re right. I’ll try to stop giving out. I’ve ordered wine, prosecco and beer, and Marion is going to help me cook the food.’

‘It’s a lot of food, Julie. Why don’t you just get it catered?’

‘Because I can throw together a chicken curry and a few salads and I don’t want it to be over the top. I want it to be a down-to-earth party, a more casual get-together.’

Harry pulled off his shirt and pulled on the AC/DC T-shirt he slept in. It was so old it had holes in the shoulder, but he loved it and refused to throw it out. I think it reminded him of when he was young and fun, not middle-aged and exhausted.

‘Julie, I love that you’re practical and thinking of others but, honestly, you’re going to wear yourself out.’

‘I refuse to have caterers. I’m determined to keep this as low-key as possible.’

Harry held up his hand. ‘Okay, do it your way.’

He went to brush his teeth as I continued to search ‘cheapcashmere’. When he got into bed, I closed my computer and turned out the light. Harry opened his laptop.

‘What are you doing?’

‘I want to answer an email from Christelle. They arrived in São Paulo today. Then I need to work on my speech for the party on Saturday.’

‘What speech?’

‘Obviously as father of the captains I have to make a speech. It’s –’

‘Don’t tell me – tradition?’

‘Well, yes.’ He grinned.

I winced. Harry had a tendency to be a bit long-winded when he had a captive audience, which was incredibly rare as no one at home ever listened to him. I was worried he might not know when to stop talking. I knew he’d be nervous, too, as he was still the ‘not-posh dad who had never played rugby’ and didn’t quite fit in.

‘Keep it short, Harry.’

‘It will be the length it needs to be, Julie.’

‘Short, Harry.’

‘Go to sleep.’

‘Three minutes max.’

‘Goodnight, Julie.’

14. Louise

The door opened and Zoë strutted in holding a freshly made green smoothie. She sat down and shrugged off her coat.

Silence.

Was she seriously not going to apologize for turning up twenty-five minutes late to our weekly meeting?

‘You’re late, Zoë.’ I glared at her.

‘Oh, right, yeah, sorry. I had a splitting migraine. I didn’t think I’d make it in, but I meditated and I felt just about well enough to come but I’ll probably have to leave early.’

She sipped her smoothie as I resisted the urge to pour it down her silk blouse. She was so self-centred and entitled, it was beyond belief.

---