Page 158 of Joker in the Pack

I managed a sound that wasn’t too dissimilar from a horse myself. “Dan sounds like fun.”

“She lives in the States, but I’ll introduce you next time she’s over.”

We were saved from further conversation by the orchestra, who struck up with the first bars ofTristan und Isolde. The lights dimmed, and I took my seat next to Nye to get lost in the music.

Literally lost. I had no clue what was going on. Was this opera supposed to be happy or sad? I raised an eyebrow at Nye, and he shrugged.

Great. An hour and a half of my life wasted, and now I needed to pee. I’d got halfway out of my seat when Ivy clutched at my arm.

“Wait a minute, sweetie. I’ll come with you.”

Super, a family outing.

“I always have to dash off at the end,” Ivy said as we hurried towards the restroom. “Cindy asks me questions about the story, and I never have a clue what’s gone on, so I hide in the loo and Google it on my iPad.”

Nye was right. I loved his grandmother.

“But I thought you enjoyed the opera. Nye said it was your birthday treat every year.”

“It’s Cindy’s idea of my birthday treat. I just come for the gin.”

By the time I’d used the facilities, Ivy was waiting with a briefing. “It was a German tragedy, sweetie. Everybody died. If Cindy asks you a direct question, just pretend you’re overcome with emotion.”

“Emotion. Got it. Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it. And let me tell you, I’m glad Nye’s found himself a normal girl and not one of those plastic-faced debutantes Cindy keeps trying to set him up with.”

“Er, thanks?”

She patted me on the arm. “I want some great-grandchildren while I’m still young enough to eat solid food, and none of those women would put up with the stretch marks.”

My heart started thumping so loudly I worried Ivy might be able to hear it. Until today, Nye had never even discussed his own family, let alone the possibility of having one with me in the future.

“I’m not sure about that.”

“Nonsense. You’ll make a beautiful bride. Will you have a summer wedding? August is always the best month. A marquee in the grounds, a live band, Dom Perignon flowing, and if Cindy tries to pressure you over the colour scheme, just ignore her.”

“I don’t know that Nye will ever propose.”

“Of course he will. He already asked me for my old rings when we went out for lunch the Saturday before last.” She peered at my left hand, turning it over in both of hers. “He’ll need to get them resized, though. My fingers are thinner than yours.”

Back at the table, I sat down in a daze.

“Everything okay?” Nye whispered.

“Great, never better.” I fixed on a perky smile.

“What did you think of the opera, Olivia?” Lucinda asked.

“German tragedies always make me feel so emotional.” I sniffed for effect, and Nye looked impressed.

“Oh. Good.” Lucinda turned her attention to a new victim, and I breathed a sigh of relief.

Then Ivy passed me a gin and tonic—at least, that was what she called it, but I couldn’t taste the tonic—and Nye may have had to help me to the car afterwards.

“You were quiet,” Nye said once we’d got on the motorway.

“I was overcome with emotion.”

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