The gazebo was draped beautifully in the silks and tulle gently swaying in the wind. The lanterns, some hanging from the wooden gazebo frame, some dotted around the area that he’d created around the wooden pallets, glowed gently in the setting sun’s light. Battery-powered fairy lights had been bundled into jam jars in a way that echoed the decorations they’d placed in the orangery for the wedding.

The large sequined cushions were dotted around the pallet tables on large reed matting to protect them from the sand. Several ice buckets brimming full of bottles of Hawkesbury Reserve were positioned strategically so that no matter where anyone sat they were within arm’s reach of them.

It looked magical. It was magical.

‘Oh my …’ Victoria trailed off. ‘Lily, it’s beautiful.’

Henry had managed to not only recreate but add to her idea to bring all her friends back to the beach they’d loved so much as kids. Shaking off the goosebumps that had risen to her skin, Lily tried to fight the tears of joy simmering in her eyes.

‘I … It wasn’t me,’ she said, shrugging. ‘Well, not all me anyway.’

‘Don’t tell me this was—’

‘Henry Hawkesbury,’ all the girls cried in unison.

‘Oh my God, what did you do to the poor man?’ demanded Zoe as Malie opened the boat’s side gate and placed the ramp down.

‘My money’s on orgasms. Lots of them,’ Malie joked.

Lily laughed and said nothing as they all trooped down the jetty with exclamations and squeals of delight, the cool boxes she’d packed earlier with food swinging in her hands as Victoria bumped her shoulder against Lily’s.

‘This is incredible, Lils, really. It’s just … so beautiful.’

Lily couldn’t help but agree, amazed by all the details that Henry had put into place. As they drew nearer to the wooden pallets covered in a thick heavy white cloth, she saw place settings fit for a banquet. She’d told Henry about the food she’d planned, how she vowed not to produce the simple plates and cutlery from the bottom of the coolers. He’d really thought of everything.

Then she spied the small white boxes with ribbon gently twirling in the wind, placed in the centre of each of the four plates. Frowning, she reached for the one with the tag proclaiming her name.

‘Oh.’ Zoe sighed as if disappointed.

‘What?’ Lily asked, casting a glance to her place setting, making sure that she, too, had a box.

‘There are no penis straws,’ she moaned, with a mock pout.

Lily slapped her on the arm, but couldn’t help but remember Henry, head tipped quizzically to the side, remarking on anatomical correctness, and she bit back a laugh.

‘What’s this?’ Malie asked, helping Zoe navigate from the concrete path over to the cushions.

‘Beats me,’ Lily replied, confused. ‘With love and thanks from O Xx,’ she read out loud.