Page 34 of A Wedding in a Week

“Oh, my date won’t include much eating—” Lukas speaks over me gagging “—but if it did, I’d pick somewhere special.”

“Like?”

“That depends.” His tone shifts. “Who are you taking out?”

I freeze, not ready to admit it’s Marc, not if that means Lukas joins dots that make him realise I was the reason Marc stayed away for so long. Thankfully, he continues without waiting for an answer.

“Whoever it is, it’s good to know you’re getting off the farm to wine and dine him.”

I don’t tell him that my date’s already managed the feat of getting me off the farm once already. There’s no point. Lukas is too busy issuing orders. He must also be busy typing. “Right, I’ve emailed somewhere special for you. Now you need to shoehorn yourself out of farmwear mode too. That means dressing in decent clothes, not overalls paired with your favourite wellies.”

“I am wearing decent clothes.” I brush down the front of a shirt that Lukas goes ahead and describes as if he’s in the same room, watching.

“Let me guess. You’re a vision in beige.”

“Fuck off.”

“Tell me what colour your shirt is.”

“Beige,” I admit. “But—”

“No buts, Stef.” He huffs out a huge sigh full of drama, and if he were here, I know I’d see his eyes alight with laughter. I hear it as he asks. “Who knew that fashion sense could be hereditary like dicky tickers? Not me, but Dad was just as allergic to colour as you, remember?”

I do. I also deny inheriting his preference for staying in the background. “I like plenty of colours.”

“Sure you do.” Lukas snorts. “That’s why you’ll be a vision in beige at your own bloody wedding.”

“I’m—”

Lukas interrupts before I can say I’m not about to tie the knot yet, although I can still picture that handfasting rope around my and Marc’s wrists. It makes me slow to shut down my brother’s needling.

“What colour is your best suit?”

I don’t answer but it doesn’t matter. Lukas keeps going.

“Tell me it isn’t fifty shades of beige like everything else in your wardrobe.”

I can’t, and he must know that. He snorts again and I’d hate him if his voice didn’t also catch next. “You’re so like him,” Lukas admits, no longer teasing. Or maybe he is, but it comes with so much fondness, I don’t mind it. “I bet you’re wearing cargo trousers like his right now, complete with a pair of pliers in a pocket. And a multi-tool.”

It’s my turn to go quiet then, reliving Dad filling similar pockets from a bowl by the kitchen door before starting work every morning. He’d empty them into the same bowl every evening like Lukas must remember all the way in London.

“And twine,” he murmurs like he can see my hand stealing to the pocket where everything he mentions bulges. His voice roughens. “If you haven’t got at least one of those things in your pockets right now, I’ll give you my firstborn baby.”

I’ve got all three items. I also have the same rough voice as my brother. “I don’t want your imaginary kids.” Christ, they’d only be miniature versions of him.

“No, you don’t, do you?” Lukas clears his throat, not mentioning Dad, and that feels a blessing—a moving on that’s taken years, a car crash, and Marc to set in motion, and fuck me, I’m ready for it.

Lukas must be as well. He’s back to bossy. “You want someone special enough to wine and dine, so that means you need to raise your game a whole lot higher.”

I’d argue but he’s got a point. I also head upstairs, opening my wardrobe while Lukas gives more orders over the phone.

“You can take your sling off for long enough to shave, you hairy animal.”

I don’t tell him I’ve already done that—taken my sling off that is, not shaved. I don’t trust my grip yet with a blade, not when my fingers still tingle. They do again now while he dispenses grooming tips I don’t want and haven’t asked him for.

“And while you’ve got your razor out, have a hack at your pubes. If your stubble is anything to go by, I bet it’s a bloody jungle down there. On second thoughts, you might want to find the petrol strimmer that John uses to cut back the verges, otherwise the fox is never going to see the rabbit, is it?”

“Very funny.”

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