‘Aw,’ Fliss says soppily, smiling at us both before calling out to Elliot. ‘Oi, El, are you buying me a drink or what?’ She steps away to join our friend.
Eventually, Lachie has to go and do his set. It’s been ages since I’ve seen him gig – obviously I can’t go to any of the weddings he does, but I miss the days when we used to work together. As he takes to the stage, the venue fills with deafening cheers and whoops – his mates have got some lungs on them. I feel a wave of pride. Lachie looks so right up there, so at ease and sexy with his ripped jeans, dark T-shirt and shaggy blond hair. With his short beard, he looks a lot like how he did when we first met, albeit with broader shoulders these days. He’s even more attractive, if that’s possible.
He casts his eyes over the audience with a lazy, delightful grin as he sits down on a stool. Then he leans towards the mic and says a simple, affectionate ‘hi’ before launching into a stripped-back acoustic version of The Killers’ ‘When You Were Young’.
‘Ah, man!’ I hear Nathan exclaim with dismay.
I cast him a sideways look.
‘I can’t believe Lucy’s missing this. She loves this song,’ he explains.
‘Is she still coming?’ She’s pretty late. I hope she’s okay.
‘Finn was throwing a tantrum, but she’s on her way,’ he promises.
Lachie catches my eye during the first instrumental section and smiles, prompting a series of tiny shivers to spiral down my spine. I still fancy him. So much.
I remember the first time I saw Lachie on stage. It was at a wedding in Scotland and, when he appeared, both Rachel and I swooned. We couldn’t take our eyes off him.
‘The hottest wedding singer I’ve ever come across, period,’ were Rachel’s exact words.
He joined us for a beer during one of his breaks. He seemed so young and flirty to me at the time – not boyfriend material in the slightest. I was shocked when he later asked if he could come up to my room. He’d caught a cab back with us to our hotel and I’d naturally assumed he was staying there. We’d had a few drinks together and I thought he was sweet, but I wasn’t about to sleep with him, the cheeky git, or let him crash on my floor, which was his next question.
He ended up kipping in his car – he didn’t have a hotel room booked, after all. I felt a little bad about that, but he didn’t seem fazed. That was just what he was like – free and easy.
Not long afterwards, he rocked up in London and sought me out – I’d told him where I worked. We became friends, although he later revealed he’d had the hots for me from the beginning. I was so caught up in Alex that I didn’t have room in my heart – or life – for anyone else, even though the situation with Alex was hopeless.
When Lachie and I eventually got together, it was after Alex had stepped right back. It’s not that I hadn’t been attracted to Lachie before, because I definitely had; I just hadn’t visualised a future for us.
Four and a half years later, here we are.
After a few songs, Lachie does ‘Cocoon’ by Catfish and the Bottlemen, one of our favourite bands.
When he gets to the part in the lyric about his girl staying to outdrink him, he smirks to himself and looks down at his strumming hands on the guitar. But the next time he sings these words he grins out at the audience. Something makes me search for Fliss in the crowd and, from the look on her face, I know straightaway that they’re sharing in some private joke.
My stomach turns over, and then a pair of hands land on my waist. I jump and twist around to see Lucy.
‘Hi!’ she shouts over the music.
‘Hey!’ I try to sound as enthusiastic as I would if I hadn’t just witnessed what I’d witnessed.
She tilts her face up to Nathan, who obligingly presses a kiss to her lips. ‘Hell?’ he asks.
‘Shocking.’ She casts her eyes heavenwards, shrugs and nods.
Distracted, my eyes return to the stage. Lachie isn’t looking at Fliss any more, but another glance at her reveals that she’s still grinning at him, rapt.
‘Sorry I’m so late!’ Lucy says in my ear, chinking my beer bottle with what looks like vodka and cranberry.
‘No worries at all,’ I reply, trying to ignore the sick feeling roiling in my gut.
Am I losing Lachie?
Is he already lost?
‘Are you okay?’ Lucy asks with sudden concern.
Her empathy has a powerful effect on my emotions.
‘Bronte, what’s wrong?’ she asks with alarm as my eyes well up with tears. ‘Is it Lachie?’ she persists.
I’m mortified, but I nod as I swallow. I like Lucy too much to lie to her.
‘Who is that?’ she asks, following the line of my sight towards Fliss.
‘Fliss,’ I reply. ‘She’s the girl he’s been doing all his weddings with.’
‘You think there’s something going on?’ She’s startled.
I shake my head. ‘I don’t know. I just have a bad feeling.’
‘She looks young.’ Lucy casts Fliss another surreptitious glance.
‘She’s Lachie’s age,’ I reply.
My friend meets my eyes with understanding.
‘Sorry, this is not the time or the place.’ I’m shocked and embarrassed at how much I’ve said. I really don’t believe Lachie is cheating on me, but it hurts to think that his feelings may drift further than friendship.
‘What are you up to tomorrow?’ Lucy asks. ‘Is Lachie working?’
I nod miserably. ‘With her.’
‘Come over for a cuppa,’ she urges. ‘I’ll make sure Nathan’s out of the house and will put Finn down for his nap so we can chat properly.’
‘Okay,’ I reply. ‘Thanks.’
I know I’ll be very glad of the distraction.
‘Sorry I had to leave early last night,’ Lucy apologises the following day when our plan comes together.
Finn kindly obliged us by going down for his nap without any fuss. Flying halfway around the world to land in a completely different time zone used to knacker me out, but at least I knew why my body clock was all over the place. It must be very confusing for a toddler.
‘But I had an excuse,’ Lucy adds, smoothing her hand across her floaty top to reveal what I now see has been disguising a rather large bump.
‘You’re having another baby!’ I cry. ‘That’s amazing news! How far along are you?’
‘Five months,’ she reveals with a smile, picking up her mug from the coffee table and taking a sip.
My eyes pop out of my head. ‘How on earth have you kept that a secret?’
‘We’ve been in the UK.’ She shrugs. ‘I wanted to tell people in person.’
‘Wait, weren’t you drinking last night? I thought you were on vodka cranberries?’
‘Cranberry, no vodka,’ she replies with a cheeky look.
‘Sneaky! Do you know what you’re having?’
She nods. ‘A girl.’
I squeal.
She grins, but then her features grow sober. ‘Sorry, I just wanted to get that bit out of the way first, but I do want to talk about you. How was the rest of last night?’
My mood takes a nosedive. ‘We ended up back at ours with Fliss and a few others. It was… unsettling.’