Page 113 of Thick as Thieves
Jonno certainly won’t. If anyone comes at her, he’ll go full force. It might not be now, it might be later, he doesn’t mind waiting, they both don’t. They’ll watch and wait until the time is right for maximum carnage. I’ve seen them do it.
It's just before seven and I’ve not been able to catch Marcus on his own. The two cocky witches have been glued to his side. We’re called into dinner and I can see he’s agitated she’s not here. Taking our seats, there’s an empty chair between Marcus and me. Kitten should be sitting in it.
Isobel tries to jump into the spare place, and Marcus employs his uber polite manners. He’s so charming when he wants to be. “You’re round there, Issy. So George can take care of you. I know how you like him to get your drinks, and he loves to do it.” He winks at her, as if she’s asked him to conjure up that scenario. He encourages her over there. Walking around the table and pulling out the chair for her. Making her feel special. She’s lapping it up.
We see a tractor go past the front of the house at top speed and Marcus’s mother tuts.
“Who is driving a tractor up my front drive?” She stands, and is just about to set off to have severe words with the culprit, when we see a small figure drop out of the cab, waving and grinning at the driver.
I turn and look at Marcus. He’s transfixed by the creature coming into the house, and she clearly does not give a fuck.
I smile ear to ear. This is going to be a fun night.
We hear her throaty laugh as she comes in, greeting the housekeeper. She loves Evie. They have a quick chat and then she comes into the dining room. She looks for Marcus first, and then me, smiling wide at us both.
Everyone is staring at her. Taking in the outfit. A dove grey dress that is actually a man's shirt. Definitely one of Henry’s, Marcus’s dad. It has a white collar and cuffs, and it’s clearly been washed a lot of times as it’s so soft you can see it moving with her body. She has a wide, black belt on it, highlighting her tiny waist and frame. It also pulls the shirt to mid-thigh. Her smooth legs are tanned all year round with being outdoors so much. It’s open a few buttons at the neckline, with a beautiful necklace that hangs down her front. Her hair is up and her eye makeup makes those grey eyes pop, the grey of the shirt highlighting them even more.
Marcus can’t get any words out. He’s staring at her, totally slack jawed. I’m smiling at her like a clown in a circus. Every eye is taking her in.
Evie Fucking Greystone is in the house. She’s practically shouting it, even though she makes no sound. She makes no move to walk further into the room, which would show she’s nervous. She's not. She’s silently shouting fuck you all, shoes or not, I am here.
Marcus finally comes out of his trance enough to move towards her. I grin at that. She’s making him make her different from everyone else. Everyone else went to him, not her.
“Sorry I’m late, we had an issue. I’ll tell you later.” She says it just loudly enough that everyone can hear.
Issy and her friend look at each other, yeah you might come unstuck here ladies. Evie won’t keep her mouth shut and she doesn’t mind confrontation. In fact, at times, she thrives on it.
“Well, please sit, Everett. I’m not sure where you’re to be seated.” Rowena says impatiently.
“You’re over here, Evie,” I call out, patting the chair between Marcus and I. I see Issy pout and I roll my eyes. A fun night, but also might be a long one.
The room gasps as Marcus kisses Evie and hugs her, saying so everyone can hear, “I’m so glad you came. It wouldn’t have been the same if you hadn’t.”
Rowena looks as sour as all the other girls. “Marcus, do you have to. I’m sure all your guests are equal.” Her overbearing tone makes it clear what she thinks of that statement.
He looks around, acting oblivious. “Of course they are, but as Evie is my girlfriend, I especially wanted her to come.” Again the room draws in a collective breath, he’s going for it tonight. I smirk. He knows exactly what he’s doing. He’s on a charm offence with everyone, and soon enough they’re all talking and chatting to him and Evie,
“You look beautiful, Evie,” I tell her. “Jonno told me about the shoes. No one noticed.” I smile at her.
“Oh, they noticed. They’re just waiting for the right time to mention it.” She winks at me. “You look great, Xan. That blue suits you. It brings out your eyes.” She touches my T-shirt, and I feel like I’ve been branded. “I notice you’ve been to church.” She’s telling me something else, but no one other than us would know it.
“Yes, it's been good recently, all positive vibes.”
She nods, watching my face for lies. They’re so similar, her and her youngest brother. They watch you like hawks, and can spot a lie a mile off, so I don’t bother anymore. I tell her the truth, the lies are pointless. She’s worse if she thinks you’re lying to her—she hounds you.
“I love your dress, Evie. Where’s it from?” asks one of the nicer girls.
Evie looks at her, checking for sarcasm. But to be honest, I actually think she really likes it. There’s no malice in the question. I notice a few of the girls checking her outfit out, and looking at themselves. Isobel and her sidekick titter at that, and everyone looks at them.
“What’s so funny, Issy darling?” asks Rowena. I swear at times I’m sure she is in on the mean girl behaviour.
The two girls go all coy. “Nothing, it’s nothing,” says Issy. Obviously it’s not, she’s desperate for another prompt. Good old George Newsome can be relied upon to ask the obvious.
“Oh go on, what is it?” he asks, nudging her playfully and laughing obliviously along with them.
“Well,” exclaims sidekick, “Marcus told us Evie had no dresses, so we went and got her some of our old ones.”
“Girls, that’s so nice of you to help out poorer people, so charitable. Don’t you think, Everett.”
