‘Let’s get a drink first.’ She really needs one.

But Drew doesn’t let go of her hand. His stride lengthens and Darcy, wearing high heels, quickens her pace to keep up. Drew pushes open the door into the back room. It’s pitch black. The restaurant seems to be closed. Darcy’s about to ask whether he bothered making a reservation when—

‘SURPRISE!’

At the chorus of ‘Happy Birthday’, someone switches the lights on. They seem harshly bright as Darcy tries to focus on the faces in front of her. Her parents, Drew’s mum, her brother and sister-in-law, some cousins, school friends, people she used to work with at the supermarket when she was at school. They’re all smiling, waiting for her reaction.

Her reaction. She suddenly pays attention to the horrified panic she’s feeling and realises her facial expression is probably showing just that. She quickly fixes her face into a smile, trying to dig deep for a mask of delight. ‘Wow!’

‘Did you have any idea?’ Drew is giddy, he can’t keep his body still, jumping about with more energy than a playful puppy who has been locked up all day.

‘None.’ Her skin becomes hot and sticky. She peels off her coat. Darcy tries to match his smile, but feels it falls short in comparison. ‘What a surprise.’

‘Darcy, are you okay?’ Lauren, her childhood friend, is staring at her, a little concerned.

Darcy shakes herself. ‘Yeah, of course. I’m still trying to get my head around Drew organising all this.’ She gestures around to the rest of the room.

‘He told us about it when he first came back.’ Lauren smiles, sipping on her champagne, obviously thinking the world of Drew for organising a surprise party. ‘Made everyone promise we wouldn’t give anything away.’

Darcy returns the smile, knowing she normally would have enjoyed a surprise if things were a little better between them. She’s sure Drew thinks everything is okay. He had, after all, said he’d come back to Sydney for her, but Darcy can’t shake the feeling that she’s forcing him to do something he doesn’t really want to do.

‘Isn’t he a doll?’ Drew’s mum, Sheila, bustles up behind them. Her cheeks are a little red, which means she’s had at least two glasses of wine. Her bright fuchsia lipstick is a little smudged, the remnants printed on the wine glass she’s holding.

‘I know,’ Lauren says. ‘You did a good job, Sheila.’

Sheila’s chest puffs out a little further. Drew is her eldest and can do no wrong in her eyes.

‘Did you have any idea?’ Sheila wants to know.

‘No.’ Darcy shakes her head. Some of the clues are now falling into place. She wonders whether he did actually have to help out at the school fete today or whether it was just a ploy to get her back to Gloucester.