Standing in the double-storey foyer, Lucy couldn’t help but compare the grandeur of the Reinhardt’s holiday home to her family’s three-up-two-down terraced house with its postcard-sized back garden and a front door that opened practically onto the road.

She hoped Chloe wasn’t too disappointed.

Steph called forth her husbands. “Joe! Nate! They’re here.” The men appeared from different doorways and Lucy recognised Nate right away. Without hesitating, he enveloped her in a huge hug, lifting her off the ground.

“Welcome, sweetheart.” Lucy knew how much Jules loved her dad’s hugs and thought of her friend who was on the other side of the world.

“Thank you,” Lucy replied, her voice muffled against Nate’s shoulder.

“And this is my husband, Joe,” said Steph as Nate put her down.

The contrast between Steph’s two husbands was glaring. Nate—six-foot-one, burly with a broad open face, his blond hair tinged with grey—and Joe—only just taller than Steph, with a wiry build, black hair, and olive skin. While both were handsome in their own ways, Steph couldn’t have chosen two more distinct men—physically, at least.

Lucy stuck out her hand and Joe shook it warmly. “Welcome, Lucy. I’ve heard wonderful things about you.”

“You too,” she lied politely. She’d heard bits and pieces, and she knew that Jules got along with her stepdad, but that was about all.

“You must want to freshen up,” Steph offered.

The long flight followed by the long drive had taken its toll, and the thought of getting clean jumped to the forefront of Lucy’s mind. “Oh, yes please.”

“Will, can you take Lucy up, hon? I’ve put her in the room next to yours.” What? He’ll be sleeping next door?

“Sure thing.” She watched as Will carried her case and his up the stairs as though they weighed nothing, then picked up her carry-on and followed.

“Hot chocolate downstairs when you’re ready,” Steph called after them.

Hot chocolate sounded divine and so did some thick white toast slathered in butter and Marmite. Lucy was ravenous, and she really wished she’d brought some Marmite with her. She wondered what the Americans would have—peanut butter, she supposed.

“Here you go,” said Will, leaving his case on the landing and pulling hers into the second door on the left. She followed him. “Every room has its own bathroom; yours is in there.” He pointed to a closed door. “That’s the closet.” He pointed to an identical door on the opposite side of the room. “This place is sorta set up for short stays, so it’s not very big,” he added apologetically. Lucy didn’t know if he meant the bathroom or the closet, but either way, she didn’t care.

This was already a huge step up from her parents’ house with its one bathroom and second loo downstairs, and her own much-loved two-bedroom-one-bathroom flat, especially as she currently shared the flat with Val.

“No, this is lovely, really. Thank you. And for carrying my case.” She gestured to where Will had left it next to the door.