Page 16 of Stuck

My mind instantly went back to the reception on Monday night, when she’d downed two in quick succession and demanded that Bingley take her home for… unruliness, I supposed. Jealousy and guilt twisted my thoughts so out of shape, all I could manage was a quiet chuckle.

I thought she’d stop talking to me then—hoped for it, really—but I realised she wasn’t going to when she twisted on her stool to face me more fully, a searching look stealing over her face.

“So, you have a sister.”

“Yes, Georgiana.”

“I bet you’re a wonderful brother,” she said, mimicking Callie’s breathy praise.

I glared at her, but she only laughed again.

“Sorry. Seriously, what’s she like?”

“She’s amazing. Quite a lot younger than me—eighteen.”

“Are you still close, despite the age gap?”

“We are. Our parents are both gone, so it’s just the two of us.”

I clamped my mouth closed, a little shocked at myself. Having begun the evening dreading hours of small talk about other people’s private affairs, I wasn’t sure how I’d arrived at confessing my orphan status to a woman I’d known for less than a week. I waited for the inevitable ‘I’m so sorry’ that always came next, but Elizabeth surprised me again.

“Were you close to them too?”

“I was,” I answered, my lips curving of their own accord into a small smile.

“I’m glad. I know too many people who don’t like their parents. It’s always nice to hear from someone who got on with theirs.”

I wondered whether she’d been this kind to Bingley when he told her about his dad’s death and decided that she probably had. “What about you?” I asked. “Do you get on with your parents?”

I could have sworn she winced.

“I love my mum to bits, we all do, but she can be hard work. Then again, she’s had a tough time. We were a big family squeezed into a poky two-bedroom council house. A few stresses and strains were inevitable.”

I frowned, because she hadn’t mentioned her father, and I wasn’t sure whether to press the issue. I decided against it. “How many siblings have you got?” I asked instead.

“Four. All sisters.”

“And are you close to them?”

“I’m closest to Jane—she and I are the eldest—but yes, we’re all close.” She lifted the pendant around her neck and held it towards me on its chain as though bringing it to my attention for the first time. As though I wasn’t already acutely aware of its permanent home on the smooth plane of skin beneath her collarbones.

“We all have one of these with our initials on. J for Jane, E for me, M for Mary, K for Kitty, and L for Lydia.”

Concentrating as I was on not looking at the pendant, which dangled tantalisingly above her cleavage, my answering “It’s very pretty” was lukewarm at best.

She rolled her eyes. “Okay, you’re back to glowering. That’s clearly enough socialising for you for one day. We wouldn’t want to push our luck—Bingley would probably be cross if I broke you.” With a smirk, she turned away to join back in with the conversation on her right.

I drained what was left of my pint and sat in silence for a while, staring at the table. I wasn’t surprised I was glowering, because this felt horrible. Elizabeth was with my best friend. I shouldn’t like her this much.

“Budge up!” someone said nearby. I paid little attention as a woman pulled a chair up to squeeze between two people at the far end of the table. “Sorry I’m late—had a call with the US that never wanted to end. Hey, since when did you wear glasses, Elizabeth?”

“I had to take my contacts out… dry eyes from too much screen work and not enough natural light.”

“They suit you. Did you wear them last night for Billy?” the woman asked in a suggestive tone.

I whipped my head up to look at Elizabeth. She didn’t look at me—wouldn’t look at me—but I got the sense her answer was meant for my ears all the same.

“I didn’t wear anything for Billy, Fiona. I’m not in the habit of dressing any way for my friends.”