Page 59 of Beautiful Losers

‘What’s all this?’ I say, as Jack lifts a bottle of wine from the table and pours me a glass.

‘Happy birthday,’ he says. His hair is brushed back off his face and I’m struck by the elegance of his forehead.

‘You planned all this?’ I say, unable to hide my pleasure.

‘I spent my fortieth birthday with a bunch of sycophantic media types and B-list celebrities. Helen decided to throw me a surprise party afterOK!magazine dangled the idea – and a significant paycheque, I might add – in front of her.’

I laugh, accepting the glass of wine.

‘Really, you’re just an excuse for me to have the celebration I actually wanted. It’s incredibly selfish of me, when you think about it,’ he says.

I catch Sabrina’s eye. She nods at my outfit in approval and raises her glass.

‘Mummy, mummy!’ Ari tugs at my dress. ‘Lyna from school is here. Can we go play?’

He’s holding hands with a girl in a lemon-coloured smock dress.

‘Sure, baby. Where are Lyna’s parents?’

‘Over there.’ He points at a couple I recognise from the school gates. The mother waves and I reciprocate.

Ari and Lyna run off. I turn back to Jack, our eyes locking. He rubs the back of his neck. He seems nervous.

‘Eh, here you go,’ he says, reaching for a clumsily wrapped present on the table. ‘Sorry about the wrapping. Gifts were always Helen’s remit.’

I smile and take the parcel from him, gently tearing at the edges. Inside is a recipe book calledHow to Cook Everything: A Complete Beginner’s Guide to the Kitchenand a signed photo of Duncan from Blue.

‘No way!’ I say. ‘How did you …’

‘I had to fork out a small fortune for that on eBay,’ Jack says. ‘The buyer was asking for a tenner, but I bargained him down to eight.’

I laugh. ‘Thank you,’ I say.

‘My pleasure.’

We look at each other uncertainly, not sure what to do next. The band strikes up. Out of nowhere, Leonard is beside me, hand extended.

‘Can I interest the birthday girl in a dance?’ he says, raising his hat.

‘Why, lead on, good sir!’ I don’t know where the upper-class English accent has come from. I sound like a BBC royal correspondent from the 1950s. Jack looks bemused as Leonard leads me off towards the band, twirling me as we walk. We dance for ages, Leonard confidently taking the lead. Sabrina joins us with her Chloe. Her niece is warm and charming, and compliments me on my dress. If Jack is sleeping with her, Ican’t blame him. And yet, every time I glance over at him, he’s watching me, his left hand in his pocket, a glass of wine in his right hand.

It’s dark now, a chill in the air. I leave the others to it and head back to the table for my wrap. I can’t see Jack. Myriam and Theo are seated at the end of the table, Myriam twirling her hair around her finger, Theo flushed from his throat to his forehead. I get the impression she’ll be over her heartbreak soon enough. I smile and pour myself another glass of wine. Walking away from the crowd, towards the edge of the vineyard, I spot an abandoned outhouse between two cypress trees, their needles browning at the top. I lean against the front wall of the building, wrapping my shawl tightly around me as I look up at the sky.

‘You don’t get stars like that in London.’

I startle. It’s Jack. He walks over to me and rests his back against the wall.

‘Or Dublin,’ I say. ‘I don’t think I’ve ever seen a night sky this bright. What’s that you’re holding?’

He hands me a paper plate of falafels and grilled courgettes.

‘That’s as close as you’re going to get to vegetarian meze around here.’

‘Ah, that’s good of you, but I’ve probably eaten half a pig tonight. My principles have gone right out the window since moving here.’

‘I don’t know about that,’ says Jack. ‘You’re the most principled person I know.’

I feel myself going red and am grateful it’s dark.

---