Bill hadn’t come to my wedding. Too expensive to travel from Sweden, he said. It still niggled at me that he’d made it for Callum and Jodi’s two years later. Even though I understood why.

And then, just as I was thinking of him, a roar began on the edge of my hearing – a thrumming like a deep heartbeat – and Mike, shouting up from downstairs, yelled, ‘That’ll be Bill now.’ I looked out the window and saw the motorbike draw up the drive, the figure in leathers perched on top, and I recognised the set of his shoulders, the long lines of his back, and something inside me relaxed. Bill was here. We were all here, together, and the party could start.

Chapter Five

Chapter Five

As the night slid forwards, and the bottles of wine were replaced on the table in rapid succession, I relaxed more and more. I’d served up the tagine, and although Jodi had said, ‘I do love Moroccan, so easy’, everyone seemed to enjoy it. Benji had thirds. He was being sweet, answering Jodi’s cutesy questions about school, and Cassie had even put her phone down and was chatting to Karen. Only Jake sat sullen, toying with his food and announcing a hitherto unmentioned vegetarianism. Poor Jake, his acne was awful. We’d taken Cassie to a private dermatologist at the first sign of hers, and here she was, smooth-skinned and perfect. Rich-girl skin. I imagined what my mother would say about that, and almost smiled. But I wasn’t thinking about Mum.

‘You see what I have to contend with,’ sighed Karen, watching Jake pick at his meal. ‘The teachers say he could be Oxbridge material, but he won’t even apply.’

‘Oh please. It’s sooo bourgeois,’ said Jake, sneering, and I tried not to smile, remembering how right-on we’d thought ourselves at that age. ‘It’s, like, a bastion of unearned privilege. No thanks.’

Karen leaned towards Bill, who was facing partly away from the circle as always, rolling what I hoped was just a cigarette. ‘Maybe you could talk to him, Bill. You know, float the idea that he doesn’t have to be an evil lawyer or a banker just because he goes to a good university.’

‘You didn’t even pass,’ said Jake, snapping at his mother, and we all fell silent. The subject of Karen’s failed degree – such a shock, when she was the smartest of us all, except for maybe Bill – was still contentious.

‘What is it you do out there anyway, Bilbo?’ Callum changed the subject. ‘Cure herring, that sort of thing?’