‘I think a little drink would be nice,’ Mother said, giving Tony that wide-eyed look she always put on when she wanted him to play barman.

‘Shit,’ Tony mumbled, low enough that Mother wouldn’t hear.

Thankfully, Jamie was nowhere to be seen.

Yvonne was playing cards at the kitchen table. Father was already hovering by the office door, looking ready for a beer. Apart from pouring lagers, Tony knew how to mix only one drink: lemon, lime and bitters, and he made a start as Aunty Beck filled the silence.

‘I knew you when you were a little girl,’ she said to Leanne. ‘When Doris and I went over to Kippen for cards. We used to play against your mother and Sal Beaumont. Merle and Sal usually beat us, didn’t they Doris?’

‘Oh, yes,’ Mother said, dusting off a platter.

‘Merle must be so excited about the wedding,’ Aunty Beck said.

Leanne nodded, then spoke when she realised there was airtime: ‘We’re almost ready, we just have to finish off a few things for the reception.’

That was more like it. Tony smiled at his fiancée and kept pouring drinks.

‘Jamie,’ Aunty Beck called down the hallway, ‘come and meet Miss Jenkinson.’

Shit.

‘Call me Leanne, please.’

Jamie held out a hand and Leanne took it. Tony tipped the bitters bottle back to upright so he could watch, wondering if Leanne thought what everyone else reckoned: Jamie Brandt was the spitting image of Uncle Daniel.

Mother broke in: ‘If there’s anything you need done for the big day, you know you only have to ask.’

Leanne’s eyes sought out Mother’s and started blinking.

‘I reckon Mrs Jenkinson’s got it all worked out,’ Tony said to settle her.

‘Except you have to take your dress with you,’ Yvonne said.

‘Oh goodness, yes!’ Mother said. ‘It’s in the good room, all ready to go. Don’t you move Tony, we’ll put it in the car now, that way you can’t forget. Goodness, how would that go, waking up to no wedding gown? Father, you come with me.’

They all laughed and Father followed. Lucky bastard, escaping.

‘We’re still organising the final placement of everyone, you know, where they’ll all be sitting and that,’ Leanne said.

‘Oh, your seating plan will seal your future in this town,’ Aunty Beck said.

They all laughed again, but Leanne didn’t get it. She just blinked.

‘Actually, we realised we have to write our own place names, you know, where people are sitting and stuff? The catering people said they can’t do it for us,’ she said.

Tony approached her with the tray of yellow-coloured drinks, put his hand nicely on her shoulder as she sipped, and looked down lovingly. It settled him and seemed to do her some good.