Page 45 of Hot to Go

As soon as the words leave Lee’s mouth, that energy that once lay between Charlie and I fizzles to a damp squib.Family. Family? I turn to him slowly. Carlos has a family. That explains a lot.

Charlie

In truth, we all have families, otherwise none of us would be here, right? But as soon as the words left Lee’s mouth, I saw all that humour and light leave Suzie’s body. I saw judgement. I saw someone who didn’t want to hear my explanations. Instead, she did everything she could to continue chatting to Lee and to avoid me. She literally threw me out of her room afterwards. If she’d asked me to stay though, she’d have heard that I have a damn good explanation for everything. I didn’t meet her at that beach because I got into an accident involving a mechanical bull. I do have a family; one that I am responsible for too. I see them now through the misty window of this restaurant, Brooke trying to persuade her brothers that a selfie is in order. She poses with the trademark pout and peace sign, takes a few and then chastises them for their efforts. I’m not surprised. Sam’s hair looks like he’s just rolled out of bed. Or maybe that’s the style. He looks like a very tired llama. I’m trying to think when I last washed that hoodie.

I push against the door to enter. It’s a Wednesday so the place is quiet, a large 1 and 5 balloon swaying to the middle where our party of four is sitting. They all cheer.

‘Late much?’ Brooke says, as I take off my coat.

‘Some of us have to work in the real word, sis.’ She replies by sticking her tongue out at me. ‘Sammy boy, happy birthday.’ I hand over my gift bag to him, ruffling hishair.

‘That’s an awfully small bag for a PS5,’ he tells me.

‘It’s from me and Max,’ I say, as I place my hands on Max’s shoulders.

He puts his hand in the bag, pulling out a pair of AirPods instead. Like I needed more ways for him to ignore me. I see something that looks like a smile creep across his face. ‘You’re very good big brothers.’

‘It has been said,’ Max says.

‘Cheapo here got me a Gregg’s gift card,’ he says, pointing at Brooke.

‘Ungrateful. I thought it the more useful gift, given you’re half sausage roll,’ she retorts, sticking her tongue out at him. Max hits her over the back of her head. I stare at both of them to cut it out. ‘First day back went OK?’ I ask Sam.

He shrugs his shoulders. ‘All a bit mid, truth be told. Having your birthday on the first day back feels like a very cruel joke too.’

‘And Brooke, how was college?’ I ask her. Brooke is the only one attired for the evening in a dress that’s perhaps too brief, her blonde hair and make-up styled well. I never quite know how to tell her as her older brother though that she doesn’t need any of it.

‘I’ve got a timetable but they’re talking about universities. I’ve got some dates for open days, can I book those in? Also, can you help me with my UCAS statement?’

I nod, as she studies my face. ‘You look battered. How’s the new school?’

Max pushes a beer in my direction and I take a very welcome swig on it. ‘You’ve gone South London, I thought it might be marginally posher?’ he tells me.

‘Not by much really…the school is fine. I just…’ I look over at Brooke, who gives me her full attention now. Brooke is the mirror image of our mum with that cheeky look in her eye that was always keyed in to gossip and wanting to know what was going on in people’s lives. But it was empathy through and through. She puts her hands on my shoulders and rests a chin there. ‘I bumped into someone I didn’t plan to see there.’

‘Was it that sus bitch, Krystal? I thought we got rid of her?’ she adds.

‘No, it’s someone I met on holiday. Is that weird?’

All my siblings look at me curiously now. We went on a group holiday, camping in Devon. It was pretty quiet unless I’m referring to one of those pheasants who tried to get in our tent.

‘Hold up, Mallorca?’ Max asks, sitting up straighter in his seat.

‘Pray do tell, big brother. You never shared this story with me,’ Brooke says. I never shared because sometimes I am not sure how much I’m supposed to share with an eighteen-year-old sister who usually criticises the cut of my trousers and a fifteen-year-old brother who is far too young to hear about the details of my dating and sex life. I’ll maybe give them an edited PG-13 version.

‘It’s a girl I…’ I cough. ‘Hooked up with in Mallorca and…’

‘WHOA!’ Max says a little too loudly so a table across the room jump as they eat their calzone. ‘The French bird? How the hell?’

‘Charlie “hooked up” with a French bird?’ Brooke repeats. The looks on my younger siblings’ faces read absolute horror.

‘Was she fit?’ Sam asks. Brooke hits him round the head with her napkin. ‘It’s my birthday and that is a pertinent question.’

I’m mildly impressed that Sam has used such a big word there. ‘I guess,’ I reply.

‘Max, was she fit? Nice?’ Brooke asks.

‘I didn’t meet her. What the hell was she doing at your school?’ Max asks. The garlic bread arrives and all our hands go in so we have snacks to take in this little story.

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