Page 33 of The Interview

“She did the usual two and three-year-old throwing herself on the floor kind of tantrums, but it didn’t end there,” Marley explains.

“She found a dead baby bird in the garden when she was around four. The sobbing and hysterics were heard two streets away, to the point neighbours were knocking at our door, checking everything was okay.”

I let out a huff so heavy, my lips rattle together.

“Then we all had to attend the funeral and watch G dab at her eyes with a tissue and listen to her sob like she’d lost a lifelong family pet.”

“What about when she had her tonsils out? She was about seven,” Marley says.

Len laughs, and I give another eye roll because I know what’s coming.

“She looked up the number of the funeral directors on the high street and made an appointment for someone to come to the house. She planned her own funeral, even wrote a ten-page obituary and an announcement for the local paper.”

“Well, I could hardly rely on any of you lot to say something nice,” I offer up in my defence.

“She used to wrap her arms around her middle and pretend she was winded to get us in trouble if we so much as looked at her too hard, or if she’d done something wrong and we threatened to grass her up.”

I’ll give Marley that one, because Ididdo that, and often.

“I had three older brothers. I had to have a few weapons to defend myself with.”

The three of us grin at each other, and I hope in that moment they appreciate the childhood we were blessed with, and the absolute joy I felt at getting to share it with them.

“Nah, in all seriousness,” Marley says as he throws his arm across my shoulder, pulls me in and kisses the top of my head, “we wouldn’t change her.”

“But you did try to sell her once, remember?” Len chuckles.

“I was four. She’d just knocked down all my Roman soldiers I’d spent an hour lining up to attack my fort. The God botherers knocked on the door and asked Mum what God could do to improve our lives. So, I told them he could buy my sister for a fiver.”

“This is what I was dealing with,” I tell Dan from where Marls still has me crushed against him.

Dan smiles, his eyes darting between the three of us.

“On that note, today’s been heavy at times, so while you’re all smiling, shall we wind things up for the day?”

“Fuck, yeah,” Marley says, finally releasing me.

CHAPTER

TWELVE

JIMMIE

Iremain leaning against the stone benchtop while activity whirls around me. Cam, ever the protector, is pressed close to my side.

I sip on the ice-cold Prosecco he just topped me up with while he holds on to his tumbler of bourbon. We both stare across to where Georgia, Marley, and Lennon are standing in the middle of the set, talking to Daniel as the crew pack their kit away.

“Did you know he felt that level of guilt?” Cam’s deep rumble asks beside me.

“I had no fucking idea,” I tell him honestly. “We don’t keep secrets. At least I didn’t think we did. I’m a little bit angry he’s been holding on to that for all these years.”

I turn to look up at my brother-in-law. Next to my husband and dad, he’s the best man I know.

“What about you? You learn anything new?”

He smiles, and with it, his entire being lights up. I just know whatever he’s thinking, whatever he’s about to say, it’s going to be about Georgia. My best friend, my sister-in-law, his wife.

“I didn’t realise she’s been a diva from such a young age,” he says with a head tilt, his brown eyes meeting mine.